A Prairie Courtship. Bindloss Harold

A Prairie Courtship - Bindloss Harold


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appearance suggested it; but we'll call it disgusted, if you like," he retorted with amusement in his eyes.

      It occurred to Alison that as he had evidently taken her resentment for granted it might after all be wiser to prove it justifiable.

      "Then," she said, "a scene of the kind you figured in last night is naturally repugnant to any one not accustomed to it."

      "Did it jar on Mrs. Farquhar?"

      "No," Alison admitted, "I don't think it did."

      "Then she's not accustomed to such scenes either. Rows of any kind really aren't very common in western Canada – but she seems to have more comprehension than you have."

      This was turning the tables with a vengeance, and Alison was a trifle disconcerted, for instead of standing on his defense the man had unexpectedly proceeded to attack.

      "Do you care to explain that?" she asked.

      "I'll try," Thorne replied genially. "Perhaps because she's married, Mrs. Farquhar seems to understand that there are occasions when a man is driven into doing things he has an aversion for. In a way, it's to his credit when he recognizes that the alternative is out of the question. Can you get hold of that?"

      "I'm not sure. You see, you suggest that there may be an alternative."

      "It's often the case. The difficulty is that now and then the consequences of choosing it are a good deal worse than the other thing."

      Alison could grasp the gist of this. There was something to be said for the resolution that could boldly grapple with a crisis as soon as it arose, instead of seeking the readiest means of escape from it.

      "Now," added Thorne, "I was quite sure when the storekeeper appeared on the scene that he had hired the biggest tough in the settlement to make trouble for me. Of course I could have backed down, or at least I could have tried it, but the result would naturally have been to make the opposition more determined on the next occasion. It seemed wiser to face the situation then and there."

      Again Alison felt that he was right, and she shifted her point of attack.

      "You wish to assure me that it was with very great reluctance you jumped down from your wagon last night?"

      Thorne laughed softly.

      "No," he acknowledged; "if one must be honest, I can't go quite so far as that."

      The girl was a little astonished at herself. In spite of his last confession her disgust – though she felt that was not the right word – with his conduct had greatly lessened, and she was conscious of a certain curiosity about his sensations during the incident.

      "You were not in the least afraid?" she asked.

      "No; but, after all, that's no great admission. You see, with most of us what we call courage is largely the result of experience. Now, I knew I was a match for Sergeant's tough. The man is big, but he has only a hazy notion when to lead off and how to parry."

      "How did you know that – from experience?"

      "Oh, no," returned Thorne, smiling. "I once watched him endeavoring to convince another man that he was utterly wrong in maintaining that the country derived the least benefit from the liquor prohibition laws. He succeeded because the other man didn't know any more than he did."

      Alison laughed.

      "After all, I don't think the subject is of very great interest. I wonder why you went to so much trouble to explain the thing to me."

      The man gazed at her a moment in somewhat natural astonishment and then he took off his wide hat ceremoniously, though as a smile crept into his eyes she could not be sure whether it was done in seriousness or whimsically. In any case, he spoiled the effect by remembering his bruised face and hastily clapping it on again.

      "May I say that I should like to retain your favorable opinion if it's possible?" he replied, and leaving his team plucking at the grass he turned away and entered the house. As it happened, Farquhar had just come in for dinner, which was not quite ready, and Thorne sat down opposite him.

      "If your wife has no objections, I want you to do me a favor, Harry," he said.

      His host expressed his readiness, but Mrs. Farquhar looked at him inquiringly.

      "It's just this," he explained. "You deal with Grantly at the railroad settlement, and it's possible that he may not have formed a very accurate opinion of my character. In fact, I shouldn't wonder if odd things the boys have said have prejudiced him against me."

      "It's quite likely," Farquhar admitted with a grin.

      "Then I want you to assure him that I'm a perfectly responsible and reliable person."

      Mrs. Farquhar laughed outright.

      "Aren't you asking rather more than Harry could consistently do?"

      "Well," Thorne replied thoughtfully, "it might serve the purpose if he told Grantly that I generally paid my bills. I don't ask him to guarantee my account or back my draft. It wouldn't be reasonable."

      "It wouldn't," assented Mrs. Farquhar with uncompromising decision. "Are you going to make some new venture?"

      "I have a hazy notion that I might take up a quarter-section and turn farmer."

      His hostess flashed a significant glance at her husband, who smiled.

      "But why?"

      "If you don't get your crop hailed out, droughted, or frozen, you can now and then pick up a few dollars that way," Thorne explained. "Besides, a farmer is a person of acknowledged status on the prairie."

      "Have you any other reasons – more convincing ones?"

      Thorne regarded his hostess with undiminished gravity.

      "If I have, they may appear by and by – when, for instance, I've doubled my holding and raised a record crop on three hundred and twenty acres."

      "It isn't done in a day," warned Farquhar.

      "It depends on how you begin; and commencing with a tent, a span of oxen, and one breaker-plow doesn't appeal to me. I want a couple of horse teams, the latest implements and the best seed I can get my hands on."

      "I guess my word alone won't induce Grantly to let you have them – still, I'll do what I can."

      Thorne spread out his hands.

      "If anything more is wanted Hunter will be given an opportunity for supplying it. I don't see any reason why I shouldn't distribute my favors."

      "And when does the rash experiment begin?"

      Thorne straightened himself in his chair.

      "It won't be an experiment. If I take hold, which isn't quite certain yet, I'll stay with the thing."

      Then he broke into his usual careless laugh.

      "I'll take a long drive round all the outlying settlements and work off a last frolic first."

      "Yes," observed his hostess, "the carnival before Lent."

      After that she proceeded to lay out dinner and they let the subject drop, but Alison, who entered the room just then, wondered why Mrs. Farquhar flashed a searching glance at her.

      CHAPTER VII

      A USEFUL FRIEND

      Thorne drove away after dinner and, for it must be admitted that he preferred other people's cookery to his own, he contrived to reach the Hunter homestead just as supper was being laid out one evening some days later. During the meal he announced his intention of staying all night, but he did not explain what had brought him there until he sat with his host and hostess on the veranda while dusk crept up across the prairie. He felt inclined to wonder why Mrs. Hunter had favored them with her company, for he supposed that it was not altogether for the sake of enjoying the cool evening air. This surmise, as it happened, was quite correct. She had another purpose in her mind, for since Alison's visit she had taken a certain interest in the man.

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