Ranching for Sylvia | Page 3

me all my life!"
She broke off with a shiver, and George looked very compassionate.
"I think," he said gently, "you had better not go on." "Ah!" replied
Sylvia, "I must grapple with the horror and not yield to it; with the
future to be faced, I can't be a coward. At last I heard the team and
opened the door. The snow was blinding, but I could dimly see the
horses standing in it. I called, but Dick didn't answer, and I ran out and

found him lying upon the load of logs. He was very still, and made no
sign, but I reached up and shook him--I couldn't believe the dreadful
thing. I think I screamed; the team started suddenly, and Dick fell at my
feet. Then the truth was clear to me."
A half-choked sob broke from her, but she went on.
"I couldn't move him; I must have gone nearly mad, for I tried to run to
Peterson's, three miles away. The snow blinded me, and I came back
again; and by and by another team arrived. Peterson had got lost
driving home from the settlement. After that, I can't remember anything;
I'm thankful it is so--I couldn't bear it!"
Then there was silence for a few moments until George rose and gently
laid his hand on her shoulder.
"My sympathy's not worth much, Sylvia, but it's yours," he said. "Can I
help in any practical way?"
Growing calmer, she glanced up at him with tearful eyes.
"I can't tell you just yet; but it's a comfort to have your sympathy. Don't
speak to me for a little while, please."
He went back to his place and watched her with a yearning heart,
longing for the power to soothe her. She looked so forlorn and desolate,
too frail to bear her load of sorrow.
"I must try to be brave," she smiled up at him at length. "And you are
my trustee. Please bring those papers I laid down. I suppose I must talk
to you about the farm."
It did not strike George that this was a rather sudden change, or that
there was anything incongruous in Sylvia's considering her material
interests in the midst of her grief. After examining the documents, he
asked her a few questions, to which she gave explicit answers.
"Now you should be able to decide what must be done," she said finally;

"and I'm anxious about it. I suppose that's natural."
"You have plenty of friends," George reminded her consolingly.
Sylvia rose, and there was bitterness in her expression.
"Friends? Oh, yes; but I've come back to them a widow, badly provided
for--that's why I spent some months in Montreal before I could nerve
myself to face them." Then her voice softened as she fixed her eyes on
him. "It's fortunate there are one or two I can rely on."
Sylvia left him with two clear impressions: her helplessness, and the
fact that she trusted him. While he sat turning over the papers, his
cousin and co-trustee came in. Herbert Lansing was a middle-aged
business man, and he was inclined to portliness. His clean-shaven and
rather fleshy face usually wore a good-humored expression; his
manners were easy and, as a rule, genial.
"We must have a talk," he began, indicating the documents in George's
hand. "I suppose you have grasped the position, even if Sylvia hasn't
explained it. She shows an excellent knowledge of details."
There was a hint of dryness in his tone that escaped George's notice.
"So far as I can make out," he answered, "Dick owned a section of a
second-class wheat-land, with a mortgage on the last quarter, some way
back from a railroad. The part under cultivation gives a poor crop."
"What would you value the property at?"
George made a rough calculation.
"I expected something of the kind," Herbert told him. "It's all Sylvia
has to live upon, and the interest would hardly cover her dressmaker's
bills." He looked directly at his cousin. "Of course, it's possible that she
will marry again."
"She must never be forced to contemplate it by any dread of poverty,"
George said shortly.

"How is it to be prevented?"
George merely looked thoughtful and a little stern. Getting no answer,
Herbert went on:
"So far as I can see, we have only two courses to choose between. The
first is to sell out as soon as we can find a buyer, with unfortunate
results if your valuation's right; but the second looks more promising.
With immigrants pouring into the country, land's bound to go up, and
we ought to get a largely increased price by holding on a while. To do
that, I understand, the land should be worked."
"Yes. It could, no doubt, be improved; which would materially add to