Part 22 (1/2)

”That's so,” a.s.sented her brother. ”It's the first time I ever forgot it in my life. Say, what are you going to do with that big hasp-bar, Sally?”

Miss Steel's movements were perhaps a little nervous, but she was evidently not troubled by timidity. ”I figured if anybody wanted to come poking in here it might keep them out--if it was nicely warmed,” she said.

”You must do nothing rash; and you must keep out of harm's way, Sally,”

I said sternly. ”They would be justified in seizing my household property.”

”There's mighty little of it.” And Miss Steel glanced around the room with contempt. ”Do you figure Lane would come out hundreds of miles for your old crockery? Anything that's pretty round this place is mine, and I'm anxious to see the man who's going to take it from me.”

I looked at the excited girl and then at her brother, who shook his head in signal that further remonstrance would be useless. My ideas respecting women had changed of late, and I somewhat resented the fact that they would not be content to sit still and be wors.h.i.+ped, but must insist on playing an active, and often a leading, part in all that happened.

”When Sally has made up her mind there's no use for anybody to talk,”

said Steel.

I had hardly mounted to the roof again before a line of diminutive objects straggled up above the horizon, and I called down: ”They're coming!”

”Which way?” was the eager question; and Steel stamped when I answered moodily: ”From the south.”

”Lane's outfit. Can't you see the others?” he shouted.

I swept the gla.s.ses around the circ.u.mference of the prairie, and my voice was thick with disappointment as I answered: ”No.”

”Then you and I will have all we can do; and I wish to the Lord Sally were anywhere else,” said Steel.

The diminutive figures rapidly resolved themselves into mounted men, with a wagon behind them, but still all the rest of the prairie was empty, and each time Steel asked the question: ”Can't you see them yet?”

I grew more doggedly savage as I answered: ”No.”

At last, when the money-lender's party were close at hand, I called out that three hors.e.m.e.n were just visible in the north. ”That's Gordon; Jacques and the rest can't be here for a long while. It's time to come down,” said Steel.

I came down, guessing that Lane, being on a lower level, could not see our allies, and waited with Steel, apparently unarmed, though we had weapons handy, in the s.p.a.ce between the house and the stable. Sally had disappeared inside the dwelling, and I trusted that she would remain there. Presently, amid a rattle of gear and a confused trampling, a band of men rode up to the homestead and ranged themselves in rude order on each side of a wagon, some of them yelling in imitation of the American cowboy as they wheeled. They were unkempt, dirty, and dissolute in appearance, and I was not altogether surprised to see that most of them were English or Americans. One finds very little errant rascality on the Canadian prairie, perhaps because our money is very hardly earned, and there are few people worth exploiting there; but odd specimens exported from the great Republic and from the Old Country by disgusted friends gravitate towards the smaller Western cities when they find life in the waste too hard, and Lane had evidently collected some of the worst of them. He sat in the wagon, smoking, and actually smiled at me.

”Kind of surprise party, isn't it, Ormesby?” he said. ”I've come round to collect what I can in accordance with the notice served on you.

Here's a wallet full of papers, and this gentleman represents legal authority. He had a partner, but we lost him. Now, I've no personal feeling against you, and won't give you any trouble if it can be avoided.”

Strange to say, I believed he spoke no more than the truth, and regarded us dispa.s.sionately as merely a source from which a little profit might be wrung. Neither Steel nor I, however, could look at the matter with equal calmness. We were standing for our rights, and ready to strike for shelter and daily bread, while the memory of former wrongs and a fierce revolt against the rich man's oppression fired our blood. Nevertheless, I remembered that it was necessary to gain time, and answered as coolly as I could:

”In the first place, the stock and horses belong to my neighbors, and in the second, you will be overstepping limits if you violently break into any part of my homestead. Neither does the law allow any private individual to gather a band of ruffians and forcibly seize his debtor's property.”

Lane probed his cigar with slow deliberateness. ”You are growing quite smart, Ormesby; but isn't it a pity you didn't display your ac.u.men earlier? I don't know that a stable can be considered a dwelling under the homestead regulations, and there's nothing to prevent any man from hiring a.s.sistance to drive home sequestrated cattle. It is this gentleman's business to seize them, not mine. Neither is it clear how far a proved agreement to feed another person's stock frees them of a lien for debt. Have you got any in writing?”

It was evident that, in homely parlance, my adversary held the best end of the stick. The administration of justice is necessarily somewhat rough-and-ready in the West, and I saw that the representative of legal authority was at least two-thirds drunk. I also had little doubt that Lane's mercenaries would act independently of him; while if they exceeded legal limits there would be only our testimony to prove it against a dozen witnesses. Possession was evidently everything.

Lane had possibly guessed my thoughts, for he said: ”Don't be mad enough to start a circus, Ormesby. We have come a long way for the beasts, and mean to get them. Can't you see that we could beat you if it came to testimony? And I don't mind admitting that these rascals are not particular.”

His tranquillity enraged me, but I managed to answer him: ”If you drive a hoof off you will have to defend your action against richer men than I.”

”Well, I'll take my chances. It would cost them piles of money, and they would gain nothing then,” he said. ”Say, officer, hadn't you better begin?”

”Gotsh any papersh to prove objection?” demanded that individual, turning to me. And I took no pains to hide my disgust as I answered: ”If I had I should not trouble to show them to you.”