XV
THE BATTLE OF GORDON'S CROSSING
Curtis Gordon was not in charge of his field forces, having left thecommand to his favorite jackal, Denny. Beneath his apparent contemptfor the law there lurked a certain caution. He knew his rival'snecessity, he appreciated his cunning, but, wishing to guard againstthe possibility of a personal humiliation, he retired to Kyak, where hewas prepared to admit or to deny as much responsibility as suited him.Denny had not forgotten O'Neil's exposure of his dishonesty, and hiszeal could be relied upon. He personally knew all the men under him, hehad coached them carefully, and he assured Gordon of his ability tohold his ground.
Dan Appleton, from his covert, measured the preparations for resistancewith some uneasiness, reflecting that if Denny had the nerve to usefirearms he would undoubtedly rout O'Neil's men, who had not beenpermitted to carry guns. By the bright torchlight he could see figurescoming and going along the grade like sentinels, and from within thebarricades of ties he heard others talking. The camp itself, which layfarther to the left, was lighted, and black silhouettes were paintedagainst the canvas walls and roofs. Some one was playing an accordion,and its wailing notes came to him intermittently. He saw that steam wasup in the boiler which operated the "go-devil," although thecontrivance itself was stationary. It was upon this that he centeredhis attention, consulting his watch nervously.
At last ten o'clock came, bringing with it a sound which startled thenear-by camp into activity. It was a shrill blast from an S. R. & N.locomotive and the grinding of car-wheels. The accordion ceased itscomplaint, men poured out of the lighted tents, Appleton movedcautiously out from cover.
He stumbled forward through the knee-deep mud and moss, bearingslightly to his right, counting upon the confusion to mask hisapproach. He timed it to that of the gravel-train, which came slowlycreaking nearer, rocking over the uneven tracks, then down upon thehalf-submerged rails which terminated near the opposing grade. Itstopped finally, with headlight glaring into the faces of Denny and histroops, and from the high-heaped flat cars tumbled an army ofpick-and-shovel men. During this hullabaloo Appleton slipped out of themarsh and climbed the gravel-bed in time to see the steel cable of theskip tighten, carrying the drag swiftly along the track. The endlesscable propelling the contrivance ran through a metal block which wassecured to a deadhead sunk between the ties, and up to this post Danhastened. He carried a cold-chisel and hammer, but he found no use forthem, for the pulley was roped to the deadhead. Drawing his knife, hesawed at the manila strands. Men were all around him, but in theirexcitement they took no notice of him. Not until he had nearlycompleted his task was he discovered; then some one raised a shout. Thenext instant they charged upon him, but his work had been done. With asnap the ropes parted, the cable went writhing and twisting up thetrack, the unwieldy apparatus came to a stop.
Dan found himself beset by a half-dozen of the enemy, who, havingsingled him out of the general confusion as the cause of disaster, cameat him head-long. But by this time O'Neil's men were pouring out of thedarkness and overrunning the grade so rapidly that there was littleopportunity for concerted action. Appleton had intended, as soon as hehad cut the cable, to beat a hasty retreat into the marsh; but now,with the firm gravel road-bed under his feet and the battle breakingbefore his eyes, he changed his mind. He carried a light heart, and thelove of trouble romped through his veins. He lowered his head,therefore, and ran toward his assailants.
He met the foremost one fairly and laid him out. He vanquished thesecond, then closed with a burly black man who withstood him capably.They went down together, and Dan began to repent his haste, for blowsrained upon him and he became the target, not only of missiles of everykind, but of heavy hobnailed shoes that were more dangerous thanhorses' hoofs.
The engineer dearly loved a fair fight, even against odds, but this wasentirely different: he was trampled, stamped upon, kicked; he felthimself being reduced to a pulp beneath the overpowering numbers ofthose savage heels. The fact that the black man received an equal shareof the punishment was all that saved Dan. Over and over between theties the two rolled, scorning no advantage, regarding no rules ofcombat, each striving to protect himself at the other's expense.
They were groveling there in a tangle of legs and arms when "Happy Tom"came down the grade, leading a charge which swept the embankment clean.
The boss packer had equipped his command with pick-handles and now seta brilliant example in the use of this, his favorite weapon. For oncethe apathetic Slater was fully roused; he was tremendous, irresistible.In his capable grasp the oaken cudgel became both armor and flail; indefense it was as active as a fencing-master's foil, in offense asdeadly as the kick of a mule. Beneath his formless bulk were themuscles of a gladiator; his eye had all the quickness of aprize-fighter. There was something primeval, appallingly ferociousabout the fat man, too: he fought with a magnificent enthusiasm, asplendid abandon. And yet, in spite of his rage, he was clear-headed,and his ears were sensitively strained for the sound of the firstgunshot-something he dreaded beyond measure.
He was sobbing as much from anxiety as from the violence of hisexertions when he tore Appleton from the clutch of the black man andset him on his feet.
"Are you hurt, son?" he gasped.
"Sure! I'm--hurt like hell." Dan spat out a mouthful of blood and sand."Gimme a club."
"Go back yonder," Tom directed, swiftly. "Nail Denny before he gets 'emto shooting. Kill him if you have to. I'll take care of these fellers."
The younger man saw that the engagement at this end of the line was nolonger general, but had become a series of individual combats, so hemade what haste he could toward the scene of the more serious encounterto the right of the crossing. He judged that the issue was still indoubt there, although he could make out little in the confusion onaccount of the glaring headlight, which dazzled him.
As he ran, however, he discovered that the S. R. & N. forces were inpossession of the middle ground, having divided the enemy's ranks likea wedge, and this encouraged him. Out of the darkness to right and leftcame shouts, curses, the sounds of men wallowing about in the knee-deeptundra. They were Gordon's helpers who had been routed from theirpositions.
Now that Appleton had time to collect himself he, too, grew sick withsuspense, for he knew that arms had been stacked inside the barricades.Any instant might bring them into play. He began to wonder why Dennywithheld the word to fire.
As a matter of fact, the explanation was simple, although it did notappear until later. Mr. Denny at that moment was in no condition toissue orders of any kind, the reason being as follows: whenpreparations for the advance were made, Dr. Gray, who understoodperhaps more fully than any one else except O'Neil the gravity of theissue and the slender pivot upon which the outcome balanced, had takenhis place in the vanguard of the attacking party instead of in thebackground, as befitted his calling. The first rush had carried himwell into the fray, but once there he had shown his good judgment byrefusing to participate in it.
Instead, he had selected Denny out of the opposing ranks and boredthrough the crowd in his direction, heedless of all efforts to stophim. His great strength had enabled him to gain ground; he had hurledhis assailants aside, upsetting them, bursting through the press as afootball-player penetrates a line; and when the retreat had begun hewas close at the heels of his victim. He had overtaken Denny beside oneof the barricades just as Denny seized a rifle and raised it. With onewrench he possessed himself of the weapon, and the next instant he hadbent the barrel over its owner's head.
Then, as the fight surged onward, he had gathered the limp figure inhis arms and borne it into the light of a gasolene-torch, where hecould administer first aid. He was kneeling over the fellow whenAppleton found him as he came stumbling along the grade.
But the decisive moment had come and gone now, and without a leader tocommand them Gordon's men seemed loath to adopt a more bloody reprisal.They gave way, therefore, in a half-hearted hesitation that spelledruin to their cause. Th
ey were forced back to their encampment: overthe ground they had vacated picks and shovels began to fly, rails weretorn up and relaid, gravel rained from the flat cars, the blockhouseswere razed, and above the rabble the locomotive panted and wheezed, itsgreat yellow eye glaring through the night. When it backed away anothertook its place; the grade rose to the level of the intersection, thenas morning approached it crept out beyond. By breakfast-time a long rowof flats extended across the line which Curtis Gordon had tried to holdin defiance of the law.
Dan Appleton, very dirty, very tired, but happy, found Natalie andEliza awaiting him when he limped up to their tent in the early morninglight. One of his eyes was black and nearly closed, his lips were cutand swollen, but he grinned cheerfully as he exclaimed:
"Say! It was a great night, wasn't it?"
Eliza cried out in alarm at his appearance.
"You poor kid! You're a sight." She ran for hot water and soap, whileNatalie said, warmly:
"You were perfectly splendid, Dan. I knew you'd do it."
"Did you?" He tried to smile his appreciation, but the effort resultedin a leer so repulsive that the girl looked dismayed. "You ought tohave seen the shindy."
"Seen it! Maybe we didn't!"
"Honestly?"
"Did you think we could stay behind? We sneaked along with thecook-house gang, and one of them helped us up on the gravel-cars. Hesmelled of dish-water, but he was a hero. We screamed and cried, andEliza threw stones until Mr. O'Neil discovered us and made us get down.He was awfully mean."
"He's a mean man."
"He isn't! He was jumping around on one leg like a crippledgrasshopper."
"I made a thousand dollars," said Dan. "Guess what I'm going to do withit?"
"How can I guess?"
"I'm going to buy an engagement ring." Once more he leered repulsively.
"How nice!" said Natalie, coolly. "Congratulations!"
"Guess who it's for?"
"I couldn't, really."
"It's for you."
"Oh no, it isn't!" Natalie's voice was freezing. "You have made amistake, a very great mistake, Dan. I like you, but--we won't evenmention such things, if you please."
Eliza's entrance saved her further embarrassment, and she quickly madeher escape. Dan groaned so deeply as his sister bathed his injuriesthat she was really concerned.
"Goodness, Danny," she said, "are you as badly hurt as all that?"
"I'm worse," he confessed. "I've just been shot through the heart. Slowmusic and flowers for me! Arrange for the services and put a rose in myhand, Sis."
"Nonsense! I'll put a beefsteak on your eye," she told him, unfeelingly.
Under Dr. Gray's attention O'Neil's ankle began to mend, and by thetime the track had been laid far enough beyond the crossing to insureagainst further interference from Gordon he declared himself ready tocomplete the journey to Kyak, which he and the girls had begun nearlythree weeks before.
During the interval Eliza had occupied herself in laying out hermagazine stories, and now she was eager to complete her investigationsso as to begin the final writing. Her experience in the north thus farhad given her an altered outlook upon the railroad situation, but asyet she knew little of the coal problem. That, after all, was the moreimportant subject, and she expected it to afford her the basis for asensational exposure. She had come to Alaska sharing her newspaper'sviews upon questions of public policy, looking upon Murray O'Neil as adaring promoter bent upon seizing the means of transportation of amighty realm for his own individual profit; upon Gordon as anunscrupulous adventurer; and upon the Copper Trust as a greedycorporation reaching out to strangle competition and absorb the richesof the northland. But she had found O'Neil an honorably ambitious man,busied, like others, in the struggle for success, and backing hisjudgment with his last dollar. She had learned, moreover, to sympathizewith his aims, and his splendid determination awoke her admiration. Heridea of the Trust had changed, likewise, for it seemed to be a fair anddignified competitor. She had seen no signs of that conscienceless,grasping policy usually imputed to big business. In regard to Gordonalone, her first conviction had remained unchanged. He was, in truth,as evil as he had been reputed.
The readjustment of her ideas had been disappointing, in a way, sinceit robbed her of a large part of her ammunition; but she consoledherself with the thought that she had not yet reached the big, vitalstory which most deeply concerned the welfare of the north.
She was a bit afraid to pursue her inquiries into the coal subject, forher ideas were fixed, and she feared that O'Neil's activities meritedcondemnation. In his railroad-building, she believed, he was doing afine work, but the coal was another matter. Obviously it belonged tothe people, and he had no right to lay hands upon their heritage.
She wondered if it would not be possible to omit all mention of him inher coal stories and center attention upon the Trust. It was impossiblefor her to attack him now, since she had come to understand herfeelings toward him. Even so, she reflected with horror that if herarticles created the comment she anticipated their effect would be torob him of his holdings. But she took her work very seriously, and hersense of duty was unwavering. She was one of the few who guidethemselves by the line of principle, straight through all otherconsiderations. She would write what she found true, for that was hermission in life. If Murray proved culpable she would grieve over hiswrong-doing--and continue to love him.
O'Neil had recognized her sincerity, and on the broad subject ofconservation he had done nothing to influence her views. He preferredto let her see the workings of the principle and, after actuallymeeting some of those who had suffered by it, form her own conclusions.It was for this reason mainly that he had arranged the trip to Kyak.
The journey in a small boat gave Eliza a longed-for opportunity todiscuss with him the questions which troubled her. He wasuncommunicative at first, but she persisted in her attempt, drawing himout in the hope of showing him the error of his ways. At last sheprovoked him to a vigorous defense of his views.
"Conservation is no more than economy," he declared, "and no oneopposes that. It's the misapplication of the principle that hasretarded Alaska and ruined so many of us. The situation would belaughable if it weren't so tragic."
"Of course you blame your troubles on the Government. That's one thinggovernments are for."
"Our ancestors blamed King George for their troubles, more than ahundred years ago, and a war resulted. But every abuse they suffered issuffered by the people of Alaska to-day, and a lot more besides.Certainly England never violated her contracts with the colonies halfso flagrantly as our Government has violated its contracts with us."
"Of course you exaggerate."
"I don't. Judge for yourself. The law offers every citizen thechance--in fact, it invites him--to go upon the public domain andsearch for treasure. If he is successful it permits him to locate theland in blocks, and it agrees to grant him a clear title after he doesa certain amount of work and pays a fixed price. Further, it says ineffect: 'Realizing that you may need financial assistance in this work,we will allow you to locate not only for yourself, but also for yourfriends, through their powers of attorney, and thus gain theirco-operation for your mutual advantage. These are the rules, and theyare binding upon all parties to this agreement; you keep your part, wewill keep ours.' Now then, some pioneers, at risk of life and health,came to Kyak and found coal. They located it, they did all the lawrequired them to do--but did the Government keep its word? Not at all.It was charged that some of them hadn't conformed strictly to theletter of the agreement, and therefore all the claims were blacklisted.Because one man was alleged to have broken his contract the Governmentbroke its contract with every man who had staked a coal claim, not onlyat Kyak, but anywhere else in Alaska. Guilty and innocent were treatedalike. I was one of the latter. Was our money returned to us? No! TheGovernment had it and it kept it, along with the land. We've beenholding on now for years, and the Interior Department has tried byvarious means to shake us off. Th
e law has been changed repeatedly atthe whim of every theorist who happened to be in power. It has beenchanged without notice to us even while we were out in the wildernesstrying to comply with the regulations already imposed. You can see howit worked in the case of Natalie and her mother. The Governmentsucceeded in shaking them off."
"That's only one side of the question," said Eliza. "You lose sight ofthe fact that this treasure never really belonged to you, but to thepublic. The coal-lands were withdrawn from entry because men like youand the agents of the Heidlemanns were grabbing it all up."
O'Neil shook his head, frowning. "That's what the papers say, but itisn't true. There are twenty million acres of coal in Alaska, and notmore than thirty thousand acres have been located. The law gave me theright to locate and buy coal claims, and I took advantage of it. Now ittells me that I have money enough, and takes back what it gave. If itdid the right thing it would grant patents to those who located underthe law as it then existed and withdraw the rest of the land from entryif advisable. This country needs two things to make itprosper--transportation and fuel. We are doing our best to supply thefirst in spite of hindrance from Washington; but the fuel has beenlocked away from us as if behind stone walls. Rich men must be brave torisk their dollars here under existing conditions, for they are notpermitted to utilize the mines, the timber, or the water-power, exceptupon absurd and unreasonable terms. Why, I've seen timber lying fourlayers deep and rotting where it lies. The Government won't save it,nor will it allow us to do so. That's been its policy throughout. It isstrangling industry and dedicating Alaska to eternal solitude.Railroads are the keys by which this realm can be unlocked; coal is thestrength by which those keys can be turned. The keys are fitted to thelock, but our fingers are paralyzed. For eight years Alaska's greatestwealth has lain exposed to view, but the Government has posted thewarning, 'Hands off! Some one among you is a crook!' Meanwhile the lawhas been suspended, the country has stagnated, men have left dispiritedor broken, towns have been abandoned. The cost in dollars to me, forinstance, has been tremendous. I'm laying my track alongside richcoal-fields, but if I picked up a chunk from my own claim to throw at achipmunk I'd become a lawbreaker. I import from Canada the fuel todrive my locomotives past my own coal-beds--which I have paid for--andI pay five times the value of that fuel, forty percent of which isduty. I haul it two thousand miles, while there are a billion tons ofbetter quality beneath my feet. Do you call that conservation? I callit waste."
"Fraud was practised at the start, and of course it takes time to findout just where it lay."
"That's the excuse, but after all these years no fraud has been proved.In administering the criminal law there is an axiom to the effect thatit is better for ninety-nine guilty men to escape than for one innocentman to suffer, but the Land Office says that ninety-nine innocentAlaskans shall suffer rather than that one guilty man shall escape. Thecry of fraud is only a pretense, raised to cover the main issue.There's something sinister back of it."
"What do you mean?"
"A conspiracy of the Eastern coal-operators and the transcontinentalfreight-lines."
"How ridiculous!" cried Eliza.
"You think so? Listen! Since all the high-grade coal of the Pacificcoast must come from the East, who, then, would discourage the openingof local fields but those very interests? Every ton we burn means aprofit to the Eastern miner and the railroad man. Yes, and twenty percent. of the heat units of every ton hauled are consumed intransportation. Isn't that waste? Every two years it costs our navy theprice of a battle-ship to bring coal to the Pacific fleet, while wehave plenty of better fuel right here on the ground. Our coal istwenty-five hundred miles nearer to the Philippines than San Francisco,and twelve thousand miles nearer than its present source. If Alaskancoal-beds were opened up, we wouldn't have this yearly fight forbattle-ship appropriations; we'd make ourselves a present of afirst-class navy for nothing. No, our claims were disputed, and thedispute was thrown into politics to keep us out of competition with ourEastern cousins. We Alaskans sat in a game with high stakes, but afterthe cards were dealt the rules were changed."
"You argue very well," said Eliza, who was a bit dazed at thisunexpected, forceful counter-attack, "but you haven't convinced me thatthis coal should be thrown open to the first person who comes along."
"I didn't expect to convince you. It's hard to convince a woman whosemind is made up. It would take hours to cover the subject; but I wantto open your eyes to the effect of this new-fangled national policy.Any great principle may work evil if it isn't properly directed, and inKyak you'll see the results of conservation ignorantly applied. You'llsee how it has bound and gagged a wonderful country, and made loyalAmericans into ragged, bitter traitors who would spit upon the flagthey used to cherish."
"Is that the only reason why you came along--just to make sure that Isaw all this?"
"No. I want to look at the Heidlemann breakwater. My fortune hangs uponit."
"It's as serious as that?"
O'Neil shrugged. "I'm waiting for the wind. My coal is in the hands ofthe bureaucracy at Washington, my railroad is in the hands of the windgod. Incidentally, I'd much rather trust the god than the Government."
Natalie, who had listened so far without the least sign of interest,now spoke up.
"If the storm doesn't come to your help, will you be ruined?" she asked.
Murray smiled cheerfully. "No man is ruined as long as he keeps hisdreams. Money isn't much, after all, and failure is merely a schooling.But--I won't fail. Autumn is here: the tempest is my friend; and hewon't be long in coming now. He'll arrive with the equinox, and when hedoes he'll hold my fortune in his hand."
"Why, the equinoctial storm is due," said Eliza.
"Exactly! That's why I'm going to meet it and to bid it welcome."
The village of Kyak lay near the mouth of the most easterly outlet ofthe Salmon, and it was similar in most respects to Hope and to Omar,save that it looked out across a shallow, unprotected bay to the openreaches of the north Pacific. The shores were low; a pair of rockyislets afforded the only shelter to its shipping, and it was from theseas a starting-point that the Copper Trust had built its break-water. Atrestle across the tide-flats connected the work with the mainland, andalong this rock-trains crawled, adding their burdens to the strength ofthe barrier. Protected by this arm of steel and stone and timber laythe terminal buildings of the Alaska Northern, as the Heidlemann linewas called, and there also lay the terminus of the old McDermottenterprise into which Curtis Gordon had infused new life. Both placesshowed plenty of activity when O'Neil and his two companions arrived,late one afternoon.
Kyak, they found, was inferior to Omar in its public accommodations,and Murray was at a loss to find shelter for the girls until hisarrival was made known to the agents of the Alaska Northern. Then Mr.Trevor, the engineer in charge, looked him up and insisted upon sharinghis quarters with the visitors. In Trevor's bearing was no suggestionof an enmity like Gordon's. He welcomed his rival warmly--and indeedthe Trust had never been small in its opposition. O'Neil accepted theinvitation gratefully.
After dinner he took Natalie with him to see the sights, while Elizaprofited by the opportunity to interview Trevor. In her numerous tiltswith O'Neil she had not been over-successful from the point of view ofher magazine articles, but here at her hand was the representative ofthe power best known and best hated for its activities in thenorth-land, and he seemed perfectly willing to talk. Surely from himshe would get information that would count.
"Understand, I'm on the side of your enemies," she warned him.
"So is everybody else," Mr. Trevor laughed; "but that's because we'remisunderstood."
"The intentions of any Trust warrant suspicion."
He shrugged. "The Heidlemanns are just ordinary business men, likeO'Neil, looking for investment. They heard of a great big copper-fieldhidden away back yonder in the mountains, and they bought what theyconsidered to be the best group of claims. They knew the region wasdifficult of acces
s, but they figured that a railroad from tide-waterwould open up not only their own properties, but the rest of thecopper-belt and the whole interior country. They began to build a roadfrom Cortez, when some 'shoe-stringer' raised the cry that they hadmonopolized the world's greatest copper supply, and had double-cinchedit by monopolizing transportation also. That started the fuss. Theyneeded cheap coal, of course, just as everybody else needs it; butsomebody discovered the danger of a monopoly of that and set up anothershout. Ever since then the yellow press has been screaming. TheGovernment withdrew all coal-lands from entry, and it now refuses togrant patents to that which had been properly located. We don't own afoot of Alaskan coal-land, Miss Appleton. On the contrary, we haul ourfuel from British Columbia, just like O'Neil and Gordon. Those whowould like to sell local coal to us are prevented from doing so."
"It sounds well to hear you tell it," said Eliza. "But the minute thecoal patents are issued you will buy what you want, then freeze out theother people. You expect to control the mines, the railroads, and thesteamship lines, but public necessities like coal and oil and timberand water-power should belong to the people. There has been anawakening of the public conscience, and the day of monopolizednecessities is passing."
"As long as men own coal-mines they will sell them. Here we are facednot by a question of what may happen, but of what has happened. If youagreed to buy a city lot from a real-estate dealer, and after you paidhim his price he refused to give you a deed, you'd at least expect yourmoney back, wouldn't you? Well, that's the case of Uncle Sam and theAlaskan miners. He not only refuses to deliver the lot, but keeps themoney, and forces them to pay more every year. I represent a body ofrich men who, because of their power, are regarded with suspicion; butif they did anything so dishonest as what our Government has done toits own people they would be jailed."
"No doubt there has been some injustice, but the great truth remainsthat the nation should own its natural resources, and should not allowfavored individuals to profit by the public need."
"You mean railroads and coal-fields and such things?"
"I do."
Trevor shook his head. "If the people of Alaska waited for a Governmentrailroad, they'd die of old age and be buried where they died, for lackof transportation. The Government owns telegraph-lines here, but itcharges us five times the rates of the Western Union. No, MissAppleton, we're not ready for Government ownership, and even if we wereit wouldn't affect the legality of what has been done. Through fearthat the Heidlemanns might profit this whole country has been made tostagnate. Alaska is being depopulated; houses and stores are closed;people are leaving despondent. Alaskans are denied self-government inany form; theories are tried at their expense, but they are neverconsulted. Not only does Congress fail to enact new laws to meet theirneeds, but it refuses to proceed under the laws that already exist. Ifthe same policy had been pursued in the settlement of the Middle Westthat applies to this country, the buffalo would still be king of theplains and Chicago would be a frontier town. You seem to think thatcoal is the most important issue up here, but it isn't. Transportationis what the country needs, for the main riches of Alaska are as uselessto-day as if hidden away in the chasms of the moon. O'Neil had theright idea when he selected the Salmon River route, but he made anerror of judgment, and he lost."
"He hasn't lost!" cried Eliza, in quick defense of her friend. "Yourbreakwater hasn't been tested yet."
"Oh, it will hold," Trevor smiled. "It has cost too much money not tohold."
"Wait until the storms come," the girl persisted.
"That's what we're doing, and from present indications we won't havemuch longer to wait. Weather has been breeding for several days, andthe equinox is here. Of course I'm anxious, but--I built thatbreakwater, and it can't go out."
When O'Neil and Natalie returned they found the two still arguing."Haven't you finished your tiresome discussions?" asked Natalie.
"Mr. Trevor has almost convinced me that the octopus is a noblecreature, filled with high ideals and writhing at the thrusts of themuck-rakers," Eliza told them.
But at that the engineer protested. "No, no!" he said. "I haven't halfdone justice to the subject. There are a dozen men in Kyak to-night whocould put up a much stronger case than I. There's McCann, for instance.He was a prospector back in the States until he made a strike whichnetted him a hundred thousand dollars. He put nearly all of it intoKyak coal claims and borrowed seventy thousand more. He got tired ofthe interminable delay and finally mined a few tons which he sent outfor a test in the navy. It had better steaming qualities than theEastern coal now being used, but six weeks later an agent of the LandOffice ordered him to cease work until his title had been passed upon.That was two years ago, and nothing has been done since. No charges ofirregularity of any sort have ever been filed against McCann or hisproperty. The Government has had his money for five years, and still hecan't get a ruling. He's broke now and too old to make a living. He'sselling pies on the street--"
"He borrowed a dollar from me just now," said O'Neil, who was staringout of a window. Suddenly he turned and addressed his host. "Trevor,it's going to storm." His voice was harsh, his eyes were eager; histone brought the engineer to his side. Together they looked out acrossthe bay.
The southern sky was leaden, the evening had been shortened by a rackof clouds which came hurrying in from the sea.
"Let it storm," said Trevor, after a moment. "I'm ready."
"Have you ever seen it blow here?"
"The old-timers tell me I haven't, but--I've seen some terrible storms.Of course the place is unusual--"
"In what way?" Eliza inquired.
"The whole country back of here is ice-capped. This coast for a hundredmiles to the east is glacial. The cold air inland and the warm air fromthe Japanese Current are always at war."
"There is a peculiar difference in air-pressures, too," O'Neilexplained. "Over the warm interior it is high, and over the coast rangeit is low; so every valley becomes a pathway for the wind. But thatisn't where the hurricanes come from. They're born out yonder." Hepointed out beyond the islands from which the breakwater flung itsslender arm. "This may be only a little storm, Trevor, but some day thesea and the air will come together and wipe out all your work. Thenyou'll see that I was right."
"You told me that more than a year ago, but I backed my skill againstyour prophecy."
O'Neil answered him gravely: "Men like you and me become over-confidentof our powers; we grow arrogant, but after all we're only pygmies."
"If Nature beats me here, I'm a ruined man," said the engineer.
"And if you defeat her, I'm ruined." O'Neil smiled at him.
"Let's make medicine, the way the Indians did, and call upon the Spiritof the Wind to settle the question," Eliza suggested, with a woman'squick instinct for relieving a situation that threatened to becomeconstrained. She and Natalie ran to Trevor's sideboard, and, seizingbottle and shaker, brewed a magic broth, while the two men looked on.They murmured incantations, they made mystic passes, then bore theglasses to their companions.
As the men faced each other Natalie cried:
"To the Wind!"
"Yes! More power to it!" Eliza echoed.
Trevor smiled. "I drink defiance."
"In my glass I see hope and confidence," said O'Neil. "May the stormprofit him who most deserves help."
Despite their lightness, there was a certain gravity among the four,and as the night became more threatening they felt a growing suspense.The men's restlessness communicated itself to the girls, who foundthemselves listening with almost painful intentness to the voice of thewind and the rumble of the surf, which grew louder with every hour. Bybed-time a torrent of rain was sweeping past, the roof strained, thewindows were sheeted with water. Now and then the clamor ceased, onlyto begin with redoubled force. Trevor's guests were glad indeed oftheir snug shelter.
As Natalie prepared for bed she said: "It was fine of Mr. Trevor totreat Murray O'Neil so nicely. No one would dream that they wer
erivals, or that one's success means the other's ruin. Now Gordon--" Sheturned to see her friend kneeling at the bedside, and apologizedquickly.
Eliza lifted her face and said simply, "I'm praying for the Wind."
Natalie slipped down beside her and bowed her dark head close to thelight one. They remained there for a long time, while outside the rainpelted, the surf roared, and the wind came shrieking in from the sea.