One incident that occurred during those two weeks marked the turning point in all the discussions that were going on. The night had been cold, with rain and a little snow, the first of the season. The morning was wet, and underfoot the ground was slushy. The men had risen at the usual time and gone to breakfast at the sound of the gong. When breakfast was almost over, but before any man had yet risen from the table, Keith McBain appeared in the doorway of the cook-camp and ordered the men out as usual. No word was spoken in reply and McBain, after waiting a moment in the doorway of the camp, went out to prepare for the day's work. No sooner had he disappeared than protests broke loose from fully half the men at once. They appealed to McCartney, and leaving the table, went off in a surly mood to the bunk house, confident that, if anything could be done, McCartney would do it. McBain himself was already out on the grade, and McCartney strode over boldly to apprise him of the temper of the men.
Not more than three of the men heard the interview between Old Silent and his foreman. But all three heard alike—and the reports that all three brought in concerning what they had seen were sufficiently similar to leave no one in doubt as to their being, in the main, correct. McCartney's first word had brought Keith McBain down on him like a hurricane, before which the foreman had capitulated, even cringed, and had asked the old boss to speak to the men himself.
And Keith McBain had spoken to the men, with the result that only two in the whole camp refused to go to work. These he promptly handed over to the time-keeper, who gave them their time, and Keith McBain personally supervised their departure from camp before he went back to his men on the grade.
From that time forward there was no doubting that the old railroad boss was still to be seriously reckoned with by any man who questioned his ability to look after his own affairs. From that time forward, moreover, the question was not so much one of whether Keith McBain was as strong a man as Bill McCartney. It was rather a question of which of the two men they were prepared to follow. For McCartney had sworn in the presence of everyone that night that he was going to break Keith McBain, and do it so completely that—well, they were to watch him and they would see for themselves.
That night the camp was split into two factions. The division had been creeping in for months. It was now complete. On one side were the men who had succumbed to McCartney's loud boastings, and had found in certain dark hints that he had given concerning the old contractor's past, good food for fattening an old-time grudge. On the other side were the men who hated McCartney as much as they sympathized with Keith McBain, and generally speaking there was a strong affection for the old contractor in spite of his harsh manner. Night after night during those two weeks the breach between the two factions broadened, and on a half-dozen occasions threatened to end in a free fight.
In the meantime King Howden rapidly recovered his normal condition. Twice he had gone to the end-of-the-steel for the mail, and had returned to town after his long trips in better spirits than when he had left. On each trip he managed to drop off at McBain's camp about meal-time, and spend an hour or more talking to Cherry and her father. But not once did the difficult position in which Keith McBain was placed come up for discussion. Nor did King Howden drop as much as a hint to Cherry that he still remembered the night when he had stood alone under the tamaracs and had made known his determination to win in the game he was playing with Bill McCartney.
The third trip, however, was different from the others. Cherry had secretly been expecting King all day long. He arrived finally late in the afternoon, and with him Anne. Cherry received the girl with as much cordiality as she could command. The four took supper together and King went at once, leaving Anne with Cherry until he returned.
That night Keith McBain retired early and left the two girls alone together. In spite of herself, Cherry found her heart warming towards Anne as the evening wore on.
"Don't you sometimes find it hard to be alone so much, Anne?" she asked, when their conversation had drifted into more or less personal channels.
Anne's reply was at first non-committal.