The Cattle-Baron's Daughter

  IV

  MULLER STANDS FAST

  The windows of Fremont homestead were open wide, and Larry Grant sat byone of them in a state of quiet contentment after a long day's ride.Outside, the prairie, fading from grey to purple, ran back to the duskyeast, and the little cool breeze that came up out of the silence andflowed into the room had in it the qualities of snow-chilled wine. A starhung low to the westward in a field of palest green, and a shaded lampburned dimly at one end of the great bare room.

  By it the Fraeulein Muller, flaxen-haired, plump, and blue-eyed, satknitting, and Larry's eyes grew a trifle wistful when he glanced at her.It was a very long while since any woman had crossed his threshold, andthe red-cheeked fraeulein gave the comfortless bachelor dwelling acuriously homelike appearance. Nevertheless, it was not the recollectionof its usual dreariness that called up the sigh, for Larry Grant had hadhis dreams like other men, and Miss Muller was not the woman he had nowand then daringly pictured sitting there. Her father, perhaps from forceof habit, sat with a big meerschaum in hand, by the empty stove, and ifhis face expressed anything at all it was phlegmatic content. Opposite himsat Breckenridge, a young Englishman, lately arrived from Minnesota.

  "What do you think of the land, now you've seen it?" asked Grant.

  Muller nodded reflectively. "Der land is good. It is der first-grade hardwheat she will grow. I three hundred and twenty acres buy."

  "Well," said Grant, "I'm willing to let you have it; but I usually try todo the square thing, and you may have trouble before you get your firstcrop in."

  "Und," said Muller, "so you want to sell?"

  Grant laughed. "Not quite; and I can't sell that land outright. I'll letit to you while my lease runs, and when that falls in you'll have the sameright to homestead a quarter or half section for nothing as any other man.In the meanwhile, I and one or two others are going to start wheat-growingon land that is ours outright, and take our share of the trouble."

  "Ja," said Muller, "but dere is much dot is not clear to me. Why you dertrouble like?"

  "Well," said Grant, "as I've tried to tell you, it works out very muchlike this. It was known that this land was specially adapted to mixedfarming quite a few years ago, but the men who ran their cattle over itnever drove a plough. You want to know why? Well, I guess it was for muchthe same reason that an association of our big manufacturers bought up thepatents of an improved process, and for a long while never made an ounceof material under them, or let any one else try. We had to pay more thanit was worth for an inferior article that hampered some of the mostimportant industries in the country, and they piled up the dollars in theold-time way."

  "Und," said Muller, "dot is democratic America!"

  "Yes," said Grant. "That is the America we mean to alter. Well, where oneman feeds his cattle, fifty could plough and make a living raising stockon a smaller scale, and the time's quite close upon us when they will; butthe cattle-men have got the country, and it will hurt them to let go. It'snot their land, and was only lent them. Now I'm no fonder of trouble thanany other man, but this country fed and taught me, and kept me two yearsin Europe looking round, and I'd feel mean if I took everything and gaveit nothing back. Muller will understand me. Do you, Breckenridge?"

  The English lad laughed. "Oh, yes; though I don't know that any similarobligation was laid on myself. The country I came from had apparently nouse for a younger son at all, and it was kicks and snubs it usuallybestowed on me; but if there's a row on hand I'm quite willing to stand byyou and see it through. My folks will, however, be mildly astonished whenthey hear I've turned reformer."

  Grant nodded good-humouredly, for he was not a fanatic, but an Americanwith a firm belief in the greatness of his country's destiny, who,however, realized that faith alone was scarcely sufficient.

  "Well," he said, "if it's trouble you're anxious for, it's quite likelyyou'll find it here. Nobody ever got anything worth having unless hefought for it, and we've taken on a tolerably big contract. We're going toopen up this state for any man who will work for it to make a living in,and substitute its constitution for the law of the cattle-barons."

  "Der progress," said Muller, "she is irresistible."

  Breckenridge laughed. "From what I was taught, it seems to me that shemoves round in rings. You start with the luxury of the few, oppression,and brutality, then comes revolution, and worse things than you hadbefore, progress growing out of it that lasts for a few generations untilthe few fittest get more than their fair share of wealth and control, andyou come back to the same point again."

  Muller shook his head. "No," he said, "it is nod der ring, but der elasticspiral. Der progress she march, it is true, round und round, but she isarrive always der one turn higher, und der pressure on der volute is nodconstant."

  "On the top?" said Breckenridge. "Principalities and powers, traditionaland aristocratic, or monetary. Well, it seems to me they squeeze progressdown tolerably flat between them occasionally. Take our old cathedralcities and some of your German ones, and, if you demand it, I'll throwtheir ghettos in. Then put the New York tenements or most of the smallerwestern towns beside them, and see what you've arrived at."

  "No," said Muller tranquilly. "Weight above she is necessary while dercivilization is incomblete, but der force is from der bottom. It is alltime positive and primitive, for it was make when man was make at derbeginning."

  Grant nodded. "Well," he said, "our work's waiting right here. What othermen have done in the Dakotas and Minnesota we are going to do. Nature hasbeen storing us food for the wheat plant for thousands of years, andthere's more gold in our black soil than was ever dug out of Mexico orCalifornia. Still, you have to get it out by ploughing, and not by makingtheories. Breckenridge, you will stay with me; but you'll want a house tolive in, Muller."

  Muller drew a roll of papers out of his pocket, and Grant, who took themfrom him, stared in wonder. They were drawings and calculations relatingto building with undressed lumber, made with Teutonic precision andaccuracy.

  "I have," said Muller, "der observation make how you build der homesteadin this country."

  "Then we'll start you in to-morrow," said Grant. "You'll get all thelumber you want in the birch bluff, and I'll lend you one or two of theboys I brought in from Michigan. There's nobody on this continent handierwith the axe."

  Muller nodded and refilled his pipe, and save for the click of thefraeulein's needles there was once more silence in the bare room. She hadnot spoken, for the knitting and the baking were her share, and the menwhose part was the conflict must be clothed and fed. They knew it couldnot be evaded, and, springing from the same colonizing stock, placidTeuton with his visions and precision in everyday details, eager American,and adventurous Englishman, each made ready for it in his own fashion.Free as yet from passion, or desire for fame, they were willing to take upthe burden that was to be laid upon them; but only the one who knew theleast awaited it joyously. Others had also the same thoughts up and downthat lonely land, and the dusty cars were already bringing the vanguard ofthe homeless host in. They were for the most part quiet and resolute men,who asked no more than leave to till a few acres of the wilderness, and toeat what they had sown; but there were among them others of a differentkind--fanatics, outcasts, men with wrongs--and behind them the humanvultures who fatten on rapine. As yet, the latter found no occupationwaiting them, but their sight was keen, and they knew their time wouldcome.

  It was a week later, and a hot afternoon, when Muller laid the bigcrosscut saw down on the log he was severing and slowly straightened hisback. Then he stood up, red and very damp in face, a burly,square-shouldered man, and, having mislaid his spectacles, blinked abouthim. On three sides of him the prairie, swelling in billowy rises, ranback to the horizon; but on the fourth a dusky wall of foliage followedthe crest of a ravine, and the murmur of water came up faintly from thecreek in the hollow. Between himself and its slender birches lay piledamidst the parched and dusty grass, and the first courses of a woodenbuilding, rank with
the smell of sappy timber, already stood in front ofhim. There was no notch in the framing that had not been made and pinnedwith an exact precision. In its scanty shadow his daughter sat knittingbeside a smouldering fire over which somebody had suspended a bigblackened kettle. The crash of the last falling trunk had died away, andthere was silence in the bluff; but a drumming of hoofs rose in a sharpstaccato from the prairie.

  "Now," said Muller quietly, "I think the chasseurs come."

  The girl looked up a moment, noticed the four mounted figures that swungover the crest of a rise, and then went on with her knitting again. Still,there was for a second a little flash in her pale blue eyes.

  The horsemen came on, the dust floating in long wisps behind them, until,with a jingle of bridle and stirrup, they pulled up before the building.Three of them were bronzed and dusty, in weather-stained blue shirts, widehats, and knee-boots that fitted them like gloves; and there was ironicalamusement in their faces. Each sat his horse as if he had never known anyother seat than the saddle; but the fourth was different from the rest. Hewore a jacket of richly embroidered deerskin, and the shirt under it waswhite; while he sat with one hand in a big leather glove resting on hiship. His face was sallow and his eyes were dark.

  "Hallo, Hamburg!" he said, and his voice had a little commanding ring."You seem kind of busy."

  Muller blinked at him. He had apparently not yet found his spectacles, buthe had in the meanwhile come upon his axe, and now stood very straight,with the long haft reaching to his waist.

  "Ja," he said. "Mine house I build."

  "Well," said the man in the embroidered jacket, "I fancy you're wastingtime. Asked anybody's leave to cut that lumber, or put it up?"

  "Mine friend," said Muller, smiling, "when it is nod necessary I asknodings of any man."

  "Then," said the horseman drily, as he turned to his companions, "I fancythat's where you're wrong. Boys, we'll take him along in case Torrancewould like to see him. I guess you'll have to walk home, Jim."

  A man dismounted and led forward his horse with a wrench upon the bridlethat sent it plunging. "Get your foot in the stirrup, Hamburg, and I'llhoist you up," he said.

  Muller stood motionless, and the horseman in deerskin glancing round inhis direction saw his daughter for the first time. He laughed; but therewas something in his black eyes that caused the Teuton's fingers to closea trifle upon the haft of the axe.

  "You'll have to get down, Charlie, as well as Jim," he said. "Torrance hashis notions, or Coyote might have carried Miss Hamburg that far as well.Sorry to hurry you, Hamburg, but I don't like waiting."

  Muller stepped back a pace, and the axe-head flashed as he moved his hand;while, dazzled by the beam it cast, the half-tamed broncho rose with hoofsin the air. Its owner smote it on the nostrils with his fist, and the pairsidled round each other--the man with his arm drawn back, the beast withlaid-back ears--for almost a minute before they came to a standstill.

  "Mine friend," said Muller, "other day I der pleasure have. I mine househave to build."

  "Get up," said the stockrider. "Ever seen anybody fire off a gun?"

  Muller laughed softly, and glanced at the leader. "Der rifle," he saiddrily. "I was at Sedan. To-day it is not convenient that I come."

  "Hoist him up!" said the leader, and once more, while the other man movedforward, Muller stepped back; but this time there was an answering flashin his blue eyes as the big axe-head flashed in the sun.

  "I guess we'd better hold on," said another man. "Look there, Mr.Clavering."

  He pointed to the bluff, and the leader's face darkened as he gazed, forfour men with axes were running down the slope, and they were lean andwiry, with very grim faces. They were also apparently small farmers orlumbermen from the bush of Michigan, and Clavering knew such men usuallypossessed a terrible proficiency with the keen-edged weapon, andstubbornness was native in them. Two others, one of whom he knew, camebehind them. The foremost stopped, and stood silent when the man Claveringrecognized signed to them, but not before each had posted himselfstrategically within reach of a horseman's bridle.

  "You might explain, Clavering, what you and your cow-boys are doing here,"he said.

  Clavering laughed. "We are going to take your Teutonic friend up to theRange. He is cutting our fuel timber with nobody's permission."

  "No," said Grant drily; "he has mine. The bluff is on my run."

  "Did you take out timber rights with your lease?" asked Clavering.

  "No, I hadn't much use for them. None of my neighbours hold any either.But the bluff is big enough, and I've no objection to their cutting whatbillets they want. Still, I can't have them driving out any other friendsof mine."

  Clavering smiled ironically. "You have been picking up some curiousacquaintances, Larry; but don't you think you had better leave this thingto Torrance? The fact is, the cattle-men are not disposed to encouragestrangers building houses in their country just now."

  "I had a notion it belonged to this State. It's not an unusual one," saidGrant.

  Clavering shrugged his shoulders. "Of course, it sounds better that way.Have it so. Still, it will scarcely pay you to make yourself unpopularwith us, Larry."

  "Well," said Grant drily, "it seems to me I'm tolerably unpopular already.But that's not quite the point. Take your boys away."

  Clavering flung his hand up in half-ironical salutation, but as he wasabout to wheel his horse a young Englishman whose nationality was plainlystamped upon him seized his bridle.

  "Not quite so fast!" he said. "It would be more fitting if you got downand expressed your regrets to the fraeulein. You haven't heard Muller'sstory yet, Larry."

  "Let go," said Clavering, raising the switch he held. "Drop my bridle ortake care of yourself!"

  "Come down," said Breckenridge.

  The switch went up and descended hissing upon part of an averted face; butthe lad sprang as it fell, and the next moment the horse rose almostupright with two men clinging to it; one of them, whose sallow cheeks werelivid now, swaying in the saddle. Then Grant grasped the bridle that fellfrom the rider's hands, and hurled his comrade backwards, while some ofthe stockriders pushed their horses nearer, and the axe-men closed inabout them.

  Hoarse cries went up. "Horses back! Pull him off! Give the Britisher ashow! Leave them to it!"

  It was evident that a blunder would have unpleasant results, forClavering, with switch raised, had tightened his left hand on the bridleGrant had loosed again, while a wicked smile crept into his eyes, and thelad stood tense and still, with hands clenched in front of him, and a wealon his young face. Grant, however, stepped in between them.

  "We've had sufficient fooling, Breckenridge," he said. "Clavering, I'llgive you a minute to get your men away, and if you can't do it in thattime you'll take the consequences."

  Clavering wheeled his horse. "The odds are with you, Larry," he said. "Youhave made a big blunder, but I guess you know your own business best."

  He nodded, including the fraeulein, with an easy insolence that yet becamehim, touched the horse with his heel, and in another moment he and hiscow-boys were swinging at a gallop across the prairie. Then, as theydipped behind a rise, those who were left glanced at one another.Breckenridge was very pale, and one of his hands was bleeding whereClavering's spur had torn it.

  "It seems that we have made a beginning," he said hoarsely. "It's firstblood to them, but this will take a lot of forgetting, and the rest may bedifferent."

  Grant made no answer, but turned and looked at Muller, who stood verystraight and square, with a curious brightness in his eyes.

  "Are you going on with the contract? There is the girl to consider," saidGrant.

  "COME DOWN!"--Page 47.]

  "Ja," said the Teuton. "I was in der Vosges, and der girl is also FraeuleinMuller."

  "Boys," said Grant to the men from Michigan, "you have seen what's infront of you, and you'll probably have to use more than axes before you'rethrough. Still, you have the chance of clearing out right now
. I only wantwilling men behind me."

  One of the big axe-men laughed scornfully, and there was a little sardonicgrin in the faces of the rest.

  "There's more room for us here than there was in Michigan, and now we'vegot our foot down here we're not going back again," he said. "That's aboutall there is to it. But when our time comes, the other men aren't going tofind us slacker than the Dutchman."

  Grant nodded gravely. "Well," he said very simply, "I guess the Lord whomade this country will know who's in the right and help them. They'll needit. There's a big fight coming."

  Then they went back to their hewing in the bluff, and the Fraeulein Mullerwent on with her knitting.