"Those things must be considered, of course. But one never gets very far by standing still and waiting for a disaster that may never occur. 'Nothing ventured, nothing gained,'" he quoted with a smile.
CHAPTER XI
THE STEAM PLOW
The winter passed quickly. Harding was kept fully occupied; for there was cordwood to be cut, there were building logs to be got ready, and the fitting up of the new house kept him busy at his carpenter's bench. He was used to the prairie climate, and he set off cheerfully at dawn to work in the snow all day, returning at dark, half-frozen and stiff from swinging the heavy ax. Now and then he drove Hester to Mrs. Broadwood's, or spent an evening with one or two others of the Allenwood settlers. He went partly for his sister's sake, but also because he sometimes met Beatrice at his new friends' houses, and since Lance had recovered he no longer had an excuse for visiting the Grange. Mrs. Mowbray had always been gracious, but he knew that the Colonel now regarded him as a dangerous person.
Beatrice's manner puzzled him. As a rule, she was friendly, yet he could not flatter himself that he was making much progress, and sometimes she was distinctly aloof. He might have placed a favorable interpretation upon her reserve, but unfortunately it was tinged with what looked very much like hostility. Harding imagined that she was influenced by her father; and he was troubled.
There were, however, days when his homestead rocked beneath the icy blast, while the snow lashed the ship-lap walls, and to venture out involved serious risk. The blizzards were often followed by bitter evenings when the prairie lay white and silent in the Arctic frost, and no furs would protect one against the cold. At such times, Harding sat quietly by the red-hot stove, sometimes with a notebook in his hand, and sometimes merely thinking hard. Many barriers stood between him and the girl he loved, and, being essentially practical, he considered how he could remove the worst. Beatrice had been luxuriously brought up, and he must have material advantages to offer her; although if she were what he believed, she would not attach undue importance to them. He was ambitious and generally ready to take a risk, but now he was staking his all on an abundant crop. It could not be done rashly. Adverse contingencies must be foreseen and guarded against; all the precautions that experience dictated must be taken. He would be ruined if he lost.
The days were lengthening, though the frost still held, when his steam-plow arrived at the railroad settlement. No one seemed willing to undertake its transport to Allenwood; and when a thing was extremely difficult Harding believed in doing it himself. The machine had been dismantled, but some of the engine-castings were massive, and the boiler, with its large, wood-burning firebox was of considerable weight. It must, however, be moved at once, because the frost might break, and the prairie is impassable by loaded vehicles for a few weeks after the thaw. As a rule, the snowfall is light on the Western plains, and jumper-sleds are not in general use. In this instance Harding found the long, high-wheeled wagon suit his purpose best, and he carefully strengthened one before he set off to bring home the plow.
It was not an easy task. The high plain sloped to the railroad in wave-like undulations, with sandy crests and timber in the hollows. In summer, it would hardly have been possible to haul the plow across this belt of broken country, but the few inches of beaten snow on the trail simplified the task. For all that, Harding spent several days on the road, moving the machine in detachments, until he came to the boiler, which must be handled in one piece. When, with the help of several train-men, he got it into his wagon, he knew his troubles had begun.
Leaving the settlement at dawn with Devine, they camped at sunset by a frozen creek and got a few hours' sleep beside a fire until the cold awakened them. After this, Harding lay thinking over the next day's work until the sky began to whiten in the east, and it was time to get breakfast.
They set off in the stinging cold while the crimson sunrise glared across the snow, but it was afternoon and the teams were worn out when they approached the ravine a few miles from home. This, they knew, presented their greatest obstacle. The frost held, sky and air were clear, and a nipping wind had risen. As they drew near the wavy line of trees that marked the edge of the dip, Harding was not pleased to notice a group of people. He had arranged for two of the Allenwood men to meet him with some tackle, but he saw that Hester, Beatrice, Mrs. Broadwood, and several more had accompanied them. He was not often self-conscious, but when he had anything difficult to do he did not like onlookers. They embarrassed him.