The Girl From Kellers | Page 5

brant and bernicle beat their way North against the roaring winds,
and man with a different instinct pressed on towards the West.
It was a rich land that rolled back before him towards the setting sun.
Birch and poplar bluffs broke the wide expanse; there was good water
in the winding creeks, a black soil that the wheat plant loved lay
beneath the sod, and the hollows held shallow lakes that seldom quite
dried up. Soon the land would be covered with grain; already there
were scattered patches on which the small homesteaders labored to free
themselves from debt. For the most part, their means and tools were
inadequate, the haul to the elevators was long, and many would fall an
easy prey to the mortgage robber. But things would soon be different;
the railroad had come. For all that, Festing resolved that he would not
be rash. His pay was good in the meantime, and he would wait.
By and by a cluster of buildings rose out of the grass. A light or two
twinkled; a frame house, a sod stable, and straw-covered wheat bins
that looked like huge beehives grew into shape. The homestead was
good, as homesteads in the back townships went, but Festing knew the
land was badly worked. Charnock had begun well, with money in the
bank, but luck had been against him and he had got slack. Indeed this
was Charnock's trouble; when a job got difficult, he did not stay with it.
Festing crossed the fall back-set, where the loam from the frost-split
clods stuck to his boots, passed the sod stable, noting that one end was
falling down, and was met on the veranda by Charnock's dogs. They
sprang upon him with welcoming barks, and pushing through them, he
entered the untidy living-room. Charnock sat at a table strewn with
papers that looked like bills, and there was a smear of ink on his chin.
"Hallo!" he said. "Sit down and take a smoke while I get through with
these."

Festing pulled a chair into his favorite corner by the stove and looked
about when he had lighted his pipe. The room was comfortless and bare,
with cracked, board walls, from which beads of resin exuded. A moose
head hung above a rack of expensive English guns, a piano stood in a
corner, and lumps of the /gumbo/ soil that lay about the floor had
gathered among its legs. Greasy supper plates occupied the end of the
table, and the boards round the stove were blackened by the distillate
that dripped from the joint where the pipe went through the ceiling.
These things were significant, particularly the last, since one need not
burn green wood, which had caused the tarry stain, and the joint could
have been made tight.
Then Festing glanced at Charnock. The latter was a handsome man of
about Festing's age. He had a high color and an easy smile, but he had,
so to speak, degenerated since he came to Canada. Festing remembered
his keenness and careless good-humor when he began to farm, but
disappointment had blunted the first, though his carelessness remained.
He had been fastidious, but one now got a hint of a coarse streak and
there was something about his face that indicated dissipation. Yet
Festing admitted that he had charm.
"You don't look happy," he remarked.
"I don't feel particularly happy," Charnock replied. "In fact, the
reckoning I've just made looks very like a notice to quit." He threw
Festing a paper and swept the others into a drawer. "You might
examine the calculations and see if they're right. I'm not fond of
figures."
"That was obvious long since. However, if you'll keep quiet for a few
minutes----"
Festing studied the paper, which contained a rough statement of
Charnock's affairs. The balance was against him, but Festing thought it
might be wiped off, or at least pulled down, by economy and well-
directed effort. The trouble was that Charnock disliked economy, and
of late had declined to make a fight. Festing doubted if he could be
roused, but meant to try.

"I see an error of a hundred dollars, but that doesn't make much
difference. Things look pretty bad, but I imagine they could be
straightened out."
"How long would it take you to put them straight?"
"Three years," said Festing, when he had made a rough calculation.
"That is, if I got moderately good crops, but I'd cut out drinks, the pool
game, and some other extravagances. You want to keep away from the
settlement."
"You'd cut out all that makes life bearable," Charnock replied, and
added while his face went hard: "Besides, three years is too long."
Festing thought he understood. The portrait of an English girl hung on
the wall behind the stove,