Ranching For Sylvia Volume-554 by Harold Bindloss (chrome ebook reader .TXT) 📕

Give Her A Hint That George's Affections Were Already Engaged.

"Besides," He Resumed, "It's No Secret That The Loss Of His Harvest Hit

Him Pretty Hard.  We'll Have To Curtail Our Spring Operation In Several

Ways And Study Economy."

Flora Glanced Toward The Door Of The Room Her Father Had Entered With

George.  Edgar Thought She Had Done So Unconsciously; But It Was

Somewhat Suggestive, Though He Could Not See What It Implied.

"Well," She Said, "I'm Inclined To Believe That He'll Get Over His

Difficulties."

"So Am I," Edgar Agreed.  "George Isn't Easy To Defeat."

In The Meanwhile Grant Sat In The Next Room, Smoking Thoughtfully And

Asking George Rather Direct Questions About His Farming.

"I've Made Some Inquiries About That New Wheat Your English Botanist

Friend Reported On," He Said At Length.  "Our Experimental Farm People

Strongly Recommend It, And There's A Man I Wrote To Who Can't Say

Enough In Its Favor.  You'll Sow It This Spring?"

"I'm Afraid I'll Have To Stick To The Common Kinds," George Said

Gloomily.  "I've A Pretty Big Acreage To Crop And That Special Seed Is

Remarkably Dear."

"That's So," Grant Agreed.  "As A Matter Of Fact, They Haven't Quite

Made Their Arrangements For Putting It On The Market Yet, And The

Surest Way To Get Some Is To Bid For A Round Lot.  After What I'd

Heard, I Wired A Winnipeg Agent And He Has Promised To Send Me On What

Looks Like More Than I Can Use.  Now I'll Be Glad To Let You Have As

Much As You Want For Your Lightest Land."

George Felt Grateful.  He Did Not Think That This Methodical Man Had

Made Any Careless Mistake Over His Order; But He Hesitated.

"Thanks," He Said.  "Still, It Doesn't Get Over The Main Difficulty."

"I Guess It Does.  You Would Have Had To Pay Money Down For The Seed,

And I'll Be Glad To Let The Thing Stand Over Until You Have Thrashed

Out.  The Price Doesn't Count; You Can Give Me Back As Many Bushels As

You Get."

"Then," Said George With A Slight Flush, "You're More Generous Than

Wise.  They Haven't Produced A Wheat Yet That Will Stand Drought And

Hail.  Suppose I Have Another Year Like Last?  I'm Sorry I Can't Let

You Run This Risk."

"We'll Quit Pretending.  I Owe A Little To The Country That Has Made Me

What I Am, And These New Hardy Wheats Are Going To Play A Big Part In

Its Development.  I Want To See Them Tried On The Poorest Land."

"That's A Good Reason.  I Believe It Goes Some Way, But I Hardly Think

It Accounts For Everything."

His Companion Looked At Him With Fixed Directness.

"Then, If You Must Be Satisfied, You're My Neighbor; You Have Had

Blamed Hard Luck And I Like The Way You're Standing Up To It.  If

Anybody's On Meaner Soil Than Yours I Want To See It.  Anyway, Here's

The Seed; Take What You Need, Pay Me Back When You're Able.  Guess

You're Not Too Proud To Take A Favor That's Gladly Offered."

"I'd Be A Most Ungrateful Brute If I Refused," George Replied With

Feeling.

"That's Done With," Grant Said Firmly; And Soon Afterward He And George

Returned To The Other Room.

After A While He Went Out With Edgar To Look At A Horse, And George

Turned To Flora.

"Your Father Has Taken A Big Weight Off My Mind, And I'm Afraid I

Hardly Thanked Him," He Said.

"Then It Was A Relief?" She Asked, And It Failed To Strike Him As

Curious That She Seemed To Know What He Was Alluding To.

"Yes," He Declared; "I Feel Ever So Much More Confident Now That I Can

Get That Seed.  The Fact That It Was Offered Somehow Encouraged Me."

"You Never Expected Anything Of The Kind?  I've Sometimes Thought

You're Apt To Stand Too Much Alone.  You Don't Attach Enough Importance

To Your Friends."

"Perhaps Not," Admitted George.  "I've Been Very Wrong In This

Instance; But I Suppose One Naturally Prefers To Hide One's

Difficulties."

"I Don't Think The Feeling's Universal.  But You Would, No Doubt, Be

More Inclined To Help Other People Out Of Their Troubles."

George Looked A Little Embarrassed, And She Changed The Subject With A

Laugh.

"Come And See Us When You Can Find The Time.  On The Last Occasion, You

Sent Your Partner Over."

"I'd Made An Appointment With An Implement Man When I Got Your Father's

Note.  Anyway, I Should Have Fancied That Edgar Would Have Made A

Pretty Good Substitute."

"Mr. West Is A Favorite Of Ours; He's Amusing And Excellent Company, As

Far As He Goes."

Her Tone Conveyed A Hint That Edgar Had His Limitations And He Was Not

An Altogether Satisfactory Exchange For His Partner; But George Laughed.

"He Now And Then Goes Farther Than I Would Care To Venture."

Flora Looked At Him With Faint Amusement.

"Yes," She Said.  "That's One Of The Differences Between You; You're

Not Assertive.  It Has Struck Me That You Don't Always Realize Your

Value."

"Would You Like One To Insist On It?"

"Oh," She Said, "There's A Happy Medium; But I'm Getting Rather

Personal, And I Hear The Others Coming."

She Drove Away A Little Later, And When Flett Had Gone To Bed George

And Edgar Sat Talking A While Beside The Stove.

"Grant's A Staunch Friend, And I'm More Impressed With Flora Every Time

I See Her," Said The Lad.  "She's Pleasant To Talk To, She Can Harness

And Handle A Team With Any One; But For All That, You Recognize A Trace

Of What I Can Only Call The Grand Manner In Her.  Though I Understand

That She Has Been To The Old Country, It's Rather Hard To See How She

Got It."

George Signified Agreement.  Miss Grant Was Undoubtedly Characterized

By A Certain Grace And Now And Then By An Elusive Hint Of Stateliness.

It Was A Thing Quite Apart From Self-Assertion; A Gracious Quality,

Which He Had Hitherto Noticed Only In The Bearing Of A Few Elderly

English Ladies Of Station.

"I Suppose You Thanked Her For That Seed?" Edgar Resumed.

"I Said I Was Grateful To Her Father."

"I've No Doubt You Took The Trouble To Mark The Distinction.  It Might

Have Been More Considerate If You Had Divided Your Gratitude."

"What Do You Mean?"

"It's Hardly Likely That The Idea Of Helping You In That Particular Way

Originated With Alan Grant, Though I Shouldn't Be Surprised If He Had

Been Allowed To Think It Did."

George Looked Surprised And Edgar Laughed.

"You Needn't Mind.  It's Most Improbable That Miss Grant Either Wished

Or Expected You To Understand.  She's A Very Intelligent Young Lady."

"It Strikes Me That You Talk Too Much," George Said Severely.

He Went Out, Feeling A Little Disturbed By What Edgar Had Told Him, But

Unable To Analyze His Sensations.  Putting On His Furs, He Proceeded To

Look Around The Stable, As He Had Fallen Into A Habit Of Doing Before

He Went To Rest.  There Was A Clear Moon In The Sky, And Although The

Black Shadow Of The Buildings Stretched Out Across The Snow, George On

Approaching One Noticed A Few Footprints That Led Toward It.  There

Were Numerous Other Tracks About, But He Thought That Those He Was

Looking At Had Been Made Since He Had Last Entered The House.  This,

However, Did Not Surprise Him, For Flett Had Recently Visited The

Stable.

On Entering The Building, George Stopped To Feel For A Lantern Which

Was Kept On A Shelf Near The Door.  The Place Was Very Dark And

Pleasantly Warm By Contrast With The Bitter Frost Outside, And He Could

Smell The Peppermint In The Prairie Hay.  Familiar Sounds Reached

Him--The Soft Rattle Of A Shaking Rope, The Crackle Of Crushed

Straw--But They Were Rather More Numerous Than Usual, And While He

Listened One Or Two Of The Horses Began To Move Restlessly.

The Lantern Was Not To Be Found; George Wondered Whether Flett Had

Carelessly Forgotten To Replace It.  He Felt His Way From Stall To

Stall, Letting His Hand Fall On The Hind Quarters Of The Horses As He

Passed.  They Were All In Their Places, Including Flett's Gray, Which

Lashed Out At Him When He Touched It; There Was Nothing To Excite

Suspicion, But When He Reached The End Of The Row He Determined To

Strike A Match And Look For The Lantern.  He Was Some Time Feeling For

The Match-Box Under His Furs, And While He Did So He Heard A Soft

Rustling In The Stall Nearest The Door.  This Was Curious, For The

Stall, Being A Cold One, Was Unoccupied, And There Was Something

Significantly Stealthy In The Sound; But It Ceased, And While He

Listened With Strained Attention A Horse Moved And Snorted.  Then,

While He Fumbled Impatiently At A Button Of His Skin Coat Which Would

Not Come Loose, An Icy Draught Stole Into The Building.

It Was Obvious That The Door Was Open; He Had Left It Shut.

Breaking Off His Search For The Matches, He Made Toward The Entrance

And Sprang Out.  There Was Nobody Upon The Moonlit Snow, And The

Shadows Were Hardly Deep Enough To Conceal A Lurking Man.  He Ran

Toward The End Of The Rather Long Building; But, As It Happened, He Had

To Make A Round To Avoid A Stack Of Wood And A Wagon On The Way.  When

He Turned The Corner, The Other Side Of The Stable Was Clear In The

Moonlight And, So Far As He Could