Unheeding her mothers protests, she organized the giggling waiters into a warring party, and advanced upon the flies. By hissing and shooing, and the flutter of newspapers, they drove the enemy before them, and a carpenter was called in to mend screen doors and windows, thus preventing their return. New shades were hung to darken the room, and new table-cloths purchased to replace the old ones, and the kitchen had such a cleaning as it had not known before in five years.
In this work the time passed swiftly, and when Redfield and Cavanagh came again to lunch they exclaimed in astonishment as, indeed, every one did.
Hows this? queried Cavanagh, humorously. Has the place changed hands?
Lize was but grimly responsive. Seems like it has.
I hope the price has not gone up?
Not yet.
Redfield asked: Whos responsible for this your new daughter?
Youve hit it. Shes started right in to polish us all up to city standards.
We need it, commented Cavanagh, in admiration of the girls prompt action. This room is almost civilized, still well sort o miss the flies.
Lize apologized. Well, you know a feller gits kind o run down like a clock, and has to have some outsider wind him up now and again. First I was mad, then I was scared, but now Im cheerin the girl on. She can run the whole blame outfit if shes a mind to even if I go broke for it. The work she got out o them slatter-heels of girls is a Gods wonder.
Ross looked round for Virginia, but could not find her. She had seen him come in, and was out in the kitchen doing what she could to have his food brought in and properly served.
Redfield reassured the perturbed proprietor of the joint. No fear of going broke, madam quite the contrary. A few little touches like this, and youll be obliged to tear down and build bigger. I dont believe Id like to see your daughter run this eating-house as a permanent job, but if she starts in Im sure shell make a success of it.
Lee Virginia came in flushed and self-conscious, but far lighter of spirit than at breakfast; and stood beside the table while the waitress laid the dishes before her guests with elaborate assumption of grace and design. Hitherto she had bumped them down with a slash of slangy comment. The change was quite as wonderful as the absence of the flies.
Do we owe these happy reforms to you? asked Cavanagh, admiring Virginias neat dress and glowing cheeks.
Partly, she answered. I was desperate. I had to do something, so I took to ordering people around.
I understand, he said. Wont you sit at our table again?
Please do, said Redfield. I want to talk with you.
She took a seat a little hesitantly. You see, I studied Domestic Science at school, and Ive never had a chance to apply it before.
Heres your opportunity, Redfield assured her. My respect for the science of domestics is growing I marvel to think what another week will bring forth. I think Ill have to come down again just to observe the improvement in the place.
It cant last, Lize interjected. Shell catch the Western habits shell sag, same as we all do.
No she wont, declared Ross, with intent to encourage her. If you give her a free hand, I predict shell make your place the wonder and boast of the county-side.
When do you go back to the mountains? Lee Virginia asked, a little later.
Immediately after my luncheon, he replied.
She experienced a pang of regret, and could not help showing it a little. Your talk helped me, she said; Ive decided to stay, and be of use to my mother.
Redfield overheard this, and turned toward her.
This is a rough school for you, Lee Virginia, and I should dislike seeing you settle down to it for life: but it cant hurt you if you are what I think you are. Nothing can soil or mar the mind that wills for good. I want Mrs. Redfield to know you; Im sure her advice will be helpful. I hope youll come up and see us if you decide to settle in Sulphur or if you dont.
I should like to do so, she said, touched by the tone as well as by the words of his invitation.
Redfields house is one of the few completely civilized homes in the State, put in Cavanagh. When I get so weary of cuss-words and poaching and graft that I cant live without killing some one, I go down to Elk Lodge and smoke and read the Supervisors London and Paris weeklies and recover my tone.
Redfield smiled. When I get weak-kneed or careless in the service and feel my self-respect slipping away, I go up to Rosss cabin and talk with a man who represents the impersonal, even-handed justice of the Federal law.
Cavanagh laughed. There! Having handed each other reciprocal bouquets, we can now tell Miss Wetherford the truth. Each of us thinks very well of himself, and were both believers in the New West.
What do you mean by the New West? asked the girl.
Well, the work youve been doing here this morning is a part of it, answered Redfield. Its a kind of housecleaning. The Old West was picturesque and, in a way, manly and fine certain phases of it were heroic and I hate to see it all pass, but some of us began to realize that it was not all poetry. The plain truth is my companions for over twenty years were lawless ruffians, and the cattle business as we practiced it in those days was founded on selfishness and defended at the mouth of the pistol. We were all pensioners on Uncle Sam, and fighting to keep the other fellow off from having a share of his bounty. It was all wasteful, half-savage. We didnt want settlement, we didnt want law, we didnt want a State. We wanted free range. We were a line of pirates from beginning to end, and were not wholly, reformed yet.
He was talking to the whole table now, for all were listening. No other man on the range could say these things with the same authority, for Hugh Redfield was known all over the State as a man who had been one of the best riders and ropers in his outfit one who had started in as a common hand at herding, and who had been entirely through the war.
Lee Virginia listened with a stirring of the blood. Her recollections of the range were all of the heroic. She recalled the few times when she was permitted to go on the round-up, and to witness the breaking of new horses, and the swiftness, grace, and reckless bravery of the riders, the moan and surge of herds, the sweep of horsemen, came back and filled her mind with large and free and splendid pictures. And now it was passing or past!
Some one at the table accused Redfield of being more of a town-site boomer than a cattle-man.
He was quite unmoved by this charge. The town-site boomer at least believes in progress. He does not go so far as to shut out settlement. If a neat and tidy village or a well-ordered farmstead is not considered superior to a cattle-ranch littered with bones and tin cans, or better than even a cow-town whose main industry is whiskey-selling, then all civilized progress is a delusion. When I was a youngster these considerations didnt trouble me. I liked the cowboy life and the careless method of the plains, but Ive some girls growing up now, and I begin to see the whole business in a new light. I dont care to have my children live the life Ive lived. Besides, what right have we to stand in the way of a communitys growth? Suppose the new life is less picturesque than the old? We dont like to leave behind us the pleasures and sports of boyhood; but we grow up, nevertheless. Im far more loyal to the State as Forest Supervisor than I was when I was riding with the cattle-men to scare up the nester.
He uttered all this quite calmly, but his ease of manner, his absolute disregard of consequences, joined with his wealth and culture, gave his words great weight and power. No one was ready with an answer but Lize, who called out, with mocking accent: Reddy, youre too good for the Forest Service, youd ought o be our next Governor.
This was a centre shot. Redfield flushed, and Cavanagh laughed. Mr. Supervisor, you are discovered!
Redfield recovered himself. I should like to be Governor of this State for about four years, but Im likelier to be lynched for being in command of twenty Cossacks.
At this moment Sam Gregg entered the room, followed by a young man in an English riding-suit. Seeing that the star-boarder table offered a couple of seats, they pointed that way. Sam was plainly in war-like frame of mind, and slammed his sombrero on its nail with the action of a man beating an adversary.
That is Sam Gregg and his son Joe used to be ranch cattle-man, now one of our biggest sheepmen, Cavanagh explained. Hes bucking the cattle-men now.
Lee Virginia studied young Gregg with interest, for his dress was that of a man to whom money came easy, and his face was handsome, though rather fat and sullen. In truth, he had been brought into the room by his father to see Lize Wetherfords girl, and his eyes at once sought and found her. A look of surprise and pleasure at once lit his face.
Gregg was sullen because of his interview with Cavanagh, which had been in the nature of a grapple; and in the light of what Redfield had said, Lee Virginia was able to perceive in these two men a struggle for supremacy. Gregg was the greedy West checked and restrained by the law.
Every man in the room knew that Gregg was a bitter opponent of the Forest Service, and that he had it in for the ranger; and some of them knew that he was throwing more sheep into the forest than his permits allowed, and that a clash with Redfield was sure to come. It was just like the burly old Irishman to go straight to the table where his adversary sat.
Virginias eyes fell before the gaze of these two men, for they had none of the shyness or nothing of the indirection of the ruder men she had met. They expressed something which angered her, though she could not have told precisely why.
Redfield did not soften his words on Greggs account; on the contrary he made them still more cutting and to the line.
The mere fact that I live near the open range or a national forest does not give me any rights in the range or forest, he was saying, as Gregg took his seat. I enjoy the privilege of these Government grazing grounds, and I ought to be perfectly willing to pay the fee. These forests are the property of the whole nation; they are public lands, and should yield a revenue to the whole nation. It is silly to expect the Government to go on enriching a few of us stockmen at the expense of others. I see this, and I accept the change.
After youve got rich at it, said Gregg.
Well, havent you? retorted Redfield. Are you so greedy that nothing will stop you?
Lize threw in a wise word. The sporting-houses of Kansas City and Chicago keep old Sam poor.
A roar of laughter followed this remark, and Gregg was stumped for a moment; but the son grinned appreciatively. Now be good!
Cavanagh turned to Virginia in haste to shield her from all that lay behind and beneath this sally of the older and deeply experienced woman. The Supervisor is willing to yield a point he knows what the New West will bring.
Gregg growled out: Im not letting any of my rights slip.
The girl was troubled by the war-light which she saw in the faces of the men about her, and vague memories of the words and stories she had overchanced to hear in her childhood came back to her mind hints of the drunken orgies of the cowboys who went to the city with cattle, and the terrifying suggestion of their attitude toward all womankind. She set Cavanagh and his chief quite apart from all the others in the room, and at first felt that in young Gregg was another man of education and right living but in this she was misled.
Lize had confidence enough in the ranger to throw in another malicious word. Ross, old Bullfrog came down here to chase you up a tree so he said. Did he do it?
Gregg looked ugly. Im not done with this business.
She turned to Ross. Dont let him scare you his beller is a whole lot worse than his bite.
This provoked another laugh, and Gregg was furious all the more so that his son joined in. Ill have your head, Mr. Supervisor; Ill carry my fight to the Secretary.
Very well, returned Redfield, carry it to the President if you wish. I simply repeat that your sheep must correspond to your permit, and if you dont send up and remove the extra number I will do it myself. I dont make the rules of the department. My job is to carry them out.
By this time every person in the room was tense with interest. They all knew Gregg and his imperious methods. He was famous for saying once (when in his cup): I always thought sheepmen were blankety blank sons of guns, and now Im one of em I know they are. Some of the cattle-men in the room had suffered from his greed, and while they were not partisans of the Supervisor they were glad to see him face his opponent fearlessly.
Lize delivered a parting blow. Bullfrog, you and me are old-timers. Were on the losing side. We belong to the good old days when the Fork was a mans town, and to be shot up once a week kept us in news. But them times are past. You cant run the range that way any more. Why, man, youll have to buy and fence your own pasture in a few years more, or else pay rent same as I do. You stockmen kick like steers over paying a few old cents a head for five months range; youll be mighty glad to pay a dollar one o these days. Take your medicine thats my advice. And she went back to her cash-drawer.
Redfields voice was cuttingly contemptuous as he said quite calmly: Youre all kinds of asses, you sheepmen. You ought to pay the fee for your cattle with secret joy. So long as you can get your stock pastured (and in effect guarded) by the Government from June to November for twenty cents, or even fifty cents, per head youre in luck. Mrs. Wetherford is right: weve all been educated in a bad school. Uncle Sam has been too bloomin lazy to keep any supervision over his public lands. Hes permitted us grass pirates to fight and lynch and burn one another on the high range (to which neither of us had any right), holding back the real user of the land the farmer. Weve played the part of selfish and greedy gluttons so long that we fancy our privileges have turned into rights. Having grown rich on free range, youre now fighting the Forest Service because it is disposed to make you pay for what has been a gratuity. Im a hog, Gregg, but Im not a fool. I see the course of empire, and Im getting into line.
Gregg was silenced, but not convinced. Its a long lane that has no turn, he growled.
Redfield resumed, in impersonal heat. The cow-man was conceived in anarchy and educated in murder. Whatever romantic notions I may have had of the plains twenty-five years ago, they are lost to me now. The free-range stock-owner has no country and no God; nothing but a range that isnt his, and damned bad manners begging pardon, Miss Wetherford. The sooner he dies the better for the State. Hes a dirty, wasteful sloven, content to eat canned beans and drink canned milk in his rotten bad coffee; and nobody but an old crank like myself has the grace to stand up and tell the truth about him.