Harding of Allenwood

THE CASTING VOTE

It was a bitter evening. The snow on the crests of the rises glittered like steel; the hollows were sharply picked out in blue. The frost was pitiless, and a strong breeze whipped up clouds of dry snow and drove them in swirls across the plain. A half moon, harshly bright, hung low above the western horizon, and the vast stretch of sky that domed in the prairie was sprinkled with stars.

Harding and Devine were on their way to attend a council meeting at the Grange. Wrapped, as they were, in the thick driving-robe, with their fur caps pulled well down, they could not keep warm. The cold of the icy haze seemed to sear the skin. Harding's woolen-mittened hand was numbed on the reins, and he feared that it was getting frostbitten.

"It's fierce to-night," Devine remarked. "Do you think there'll be a good turn-out of the Allenwood boys?"

"The cold won't stop them. I expect the Colonel has sent round to whip them up."

"I guess you're right. Do you know, now that I've met one or two of them I see something in you and Hester that's in them. Can't tell you what it is, but it's there, and it was plainer in your father. What are they like when you get to know them?"

"Much the same as the rest of us."

"The rest of us! Then you don't claim to be different from the general prairie crowd?"

Harding frowned.

"I suppose I wouldn't mind being thought the best farmer in the district," he said; "but that's all the distinction I care about."

"You'll get that easy enough. You've gone ahead fast, Craig, and you're going farther; but you may have some trouble on the way. When a man breaks a new trail for himself and leaves other men behind, it doesn't make them fond of him."

"Oh, I have no delusions on that point. To attain success, one cannot hope to travel a balmy road."

"Why do you want to rope in the Allenwood boys?" Devine asked curiously.

"The reason's plain. You and I might make the steam-plow pay, but the price is high, and we can't do much more alone. If you want the best economy in farming, you must have cooperation. It's easier to buy expensive tools if you divide the cost."

"I see that. But have you no other reason? You don't feel that you'd like to make friends with these people and, so to speak, have them acknowledge you?"

"No," said Harding firmly. Since his talk with Beatrice he had felt a curious antagonism to the whole Allenwood settlement.

It was too cold to talk much, and the men drove on in silence until the lights of the Grange twinkled out across the plain. Ten minutes later they entered the big hall, and Harding cast a quick glance about. He noticed the clusters of wheat-ears and the big moose-heads on the wall, the curious Eastern weapons and the English sporting guns that glistened beneath them, and the fine timbering of the pointed roof. He did not think there was another homestead to compare with this between Winnipeg and the valleys of British Columbia; but it was the company that seized his attention. It looked as if every man in the settlement were present; and they were worth the glance he gave them. Dressed with picturesque freedom, they were, for the most part, handsome men, with powerful frames and pleasant, brown faces. Harding knew they had courage and intelligence, yet he felt that there was something lacking – something hard to define. He thought of them as without the striving spirit; as too content.

One or two gave him a welcoming smile, and there was a slight general movement when he sat down. Mowbray, however, looked up with some surprise from the head of the long table.

"After certain favors Mr. Harding has done me, it would be singularly inappropriate if I questioned his coming here as my guest. On the other hand, the presence of any outside person at our council is irregular."

"May I explain?" Kenwyne said. "Mr. Harding and his partner came by my invitation to give us some information about matters of which he knows more than any one else. They will, of course, take no other part in the proceedings."

Mowbray bowed. "I am satisfied. Mr. Harding will understand that a president must show due regard to form."

His manner was courteous, yet Harding was conscious of a subtle antagonism between them. To some extent, it was personal, but its roots struck deeper; it was the inevitable hostility between the old school and the new. Mowbray was a worthy representative of the former. Fastidiously neat in his dress, though his clothes were by no means of the latest cut, and sitting very upright, he had an air of dignity and command. He might be prejudiced, but it was obvious that he was neither dull nor weak.

"We have," he said, taking up a paper, "a motion of some importance before us. It is proposed that we consider the advisability of cooperating with Messrs. Harding and Devine: first, in the purchase and use of a steam-plow; second, in the organization of a joint creamery; and, third, in opening a sales office in Winnipeg or other convenient center for the disposal of stock and general produce."

Putting down the paper he looked round with an ironical smile.

"You will observe that the scheme is by no means modest; indeed, it strikes me as the most revolutionary project that has ever been suggested in this place. It is nevertheless my duty to ask those responsible for it to say what they can in its favor."

Kenwyne rose with a composed expression.

"Briefly, the advantages are these. With mechanical power we can plow more land than at present and at a reduced cost."

"That is far from certain," Mowbray declared. "We cannot take it for granted. These machines go wrong."

"With your permission, I will ask Mr. Harding to give us some figures later. We are missing opportunities by being content with rearing only a limited number of beef cattle. Winnipeg and Brandon are growing fast; new towns are springing up along the railroad, and there will soon be a demand for dairy produce that will counterbalance the rather frequent loss of a wheat crop."

"It will mean more paid hands and working all the land," some one objected.

"Exactly. I may add that this is our aim. The land must be developed."

There was a murmur of disapproval, but Kenwyne went on.

"Then there is reason to believe that we seldom obtain the prices we ought to get. Stockbuyers' profits and salesmen's charges are high, and we can't expect these gentry to look after our interests. We could best secure these by setting up an agency of our own, and hiring trained assistance. I'm afraid we cannot claim to be successful business men."

"If that claim is ever justified, you will have to choose another leader," Mowbray remarked. "This settlement was not founded with the object of making money. Now, Broadwood!"

Broadwood rose with a smile.

"We must all agree, sir, that there's not much danger of the object you mention being realized. No doubt, there are some to whom this doesn't matter, but the rest are confronted with the necessity for making a living, and I suspect that one or two have the trouble I've experienced in paying my storekeepers' bills."

"Don't be personal!" some one called out.

"That strikes me as foolish," Broadwood retorted. "One can't help being personal. We all know one another; we use one another's horses and borrow one another's cash; and it's the necessity for doing the latter that I wish to obviate. We all know our neighbors' needs, and I want to show you how they can be supplied."

He had struck the right note with his easy humor; but Harding saw that Mowbray was not pleased.

"You don't need much," one cried amid laughter. "You got a bumper harvest, and cut down your subscription to the hounds."

Broadwood smiled.

"I came out of the rut and worked. A rash experiment, perhaps, but it didn't prove so harrowing as I feared; and there's some satisfaction in having no debts. But my point is that you can't do much without proper implements, and I feel that we'll have to get them. The proposal I've the pleasure of seconding, shows you how."

He sat down, and Mowbray looked up with a sarcastic smile.

"Broadwood's remarks don't take us much farther; he seems careful to avoid practical details. Now the first thing I notice about this scheme is that it is founded on combination. Its proposers are right in assuming the necessity for this, if their purpose is to secure economical success; but such success can be bought at too high a price. Carry the cooperative idea out to its logical conclusion, and a man becomes a machine. He must subordinate his private judgment, he cannot choose his course, all his movements must be regulated by central control. Then you may get efficiency, but you destroy character, independence, personal responsibility, all the finest attributes of human nature. You may object that I am exaggerating; that nobody wants this. The danger is that if you decide to go some distance, you may be driven farther than you think. Then, Allenwood was founded to encourage individual liberty – that settlers here might live a healthy life, free from economic pressure; on their own land, farming it like gentlemen, and not with bitter greed; enjoying the wind and sunshine, finding healthy sport. We demand a high standard of conduct, but that is all. We are bound to one another by community of ideals and traditions, and not by the hope of dividends."

There was an outbreak of applause; then Kenwyne rose.

"The difficulty is that to lead our own lives, regardless of changing times and in defiance of commercial principles, needs larger means than most of us possess. The plain truth is that Allenwood has been living upon its capital, drawing upon resources that cannot be renewed, and we must presently face the reckoning. Some of us see this clearly, and I think the rest are beginning to understand. If you have no objections, sir, I will ask Mr. Harding to give us some figures."

Harding got up and stood silent for a moment or two, conscious that all present were watching him. He felt that they were keeping the ring, and that the affair had developed into a fight between himself and Mowbray. Harding regretted this, because the Colonel's hostility would make the secret hope he cherished very difficult to realize; but he could not act against his convictions. He stood for progress – blundering progress, perhaps – and Mowbray for the preservation of obsolete ways and means; the conflict was inevitable. Harding might lose the first round, but he knew that the result was certain. Vast, insuperable forces were arrayed against his antagonist.

"To begin with, what do you expect to gain by persuading us to join you?" Mowbray asked.

"A saving of expense and the help of the only neighbors I have at present," Harding answered. "My partner and I are ready to go on alone, but we can't hope to do much unassisted."

Opening the papers he had brought, he read out particulars of the cost of plowing by horses and by steam; then statistics of American and Canadian grain production and the fluctuations of prices.