Peter was meant by “some men,” Northrup suspected.
“Now, speaking of the whiskey, Miss Heathcote, it’s as good over at my place as the men can afford, and better, too. I don’t make anything at the Cosey Bar, I can assure you, but I know that men have to have their drink, and I think it’s better to keep it under control.”
“That’s real human of you, Mr. Maclin, but I wish to goodness you’d keep the men under control after they’ve had their drink. They certainly do make a mess of the peace and happiness of others while they’re indulging in their rights.”
A silence, then Maclin started again. “Truth is, Miss Heathcote, the men ’round here are shucks, and I’m keeping my eye open for the real interest of King’s Forest, not the sentimental interest. Now, that Point––we ought to clean that up, build decent, comfortable cottages there and a wharf; keep the men as have ambition and can pay rents, and get others in, foreigners if you like, who know their business and can set a good example. We’re all running to seed down here, Miss Heathcote, and that’s a fact. I don’t mind telling you, 61 you’re a woman of a thousand and can see what’s what, I am inventing some pretty clever things down at my place and it wouldn’t be safe to let on until they’re perfected, and I do want good workers, not loafers or snoopers, and I do want that Point. It’s nearer to the mines than any other spot on the Lake. I want to build a good road to it; the squatters could be utilized on that––the Pointers, I mean. You and your brother ought to be keen enough to work with me, not against me. Sentiment oughtn’t to go too far where a lot of lazy beggars are concerned.”
The clicking of the needles was the only sound after Maclin’s long speech; he was waiting and breathing quicker. Northrup could hear the deep breathing.
“How do you feel about it, Miss Heathcote?”
“Oh! I don’t let my feelings get the better of me till I know what’s stirring them.”
Northrup stifled a laugh, but Maclin, feeling secure, laughed loudly.
“It’s like asking me, Mr. Maclin, to get stirred up and set going by a pig in a poke.” Aunt Polly’s voice was thin and sharp. “I always see the pig before I get excited, maybe it would be best kept in the poke. Now, Peter and me have a real feeling about the Point––it belonged, as far as we know, to old Doctor Rivers, and all that he had he left to Mary-Clare and we feel sort of responsible to him and her. We would all shield anything that belonged to the old doctor.”
“Is her title clear to that land?” Maclin did not laugh now, Northrup noted that.