Welland set out to crush this youthful modesty.
"Now, look, Hec'. This will be done quiet and nice and proper. There won't be any harming you in the eyes of the boys. I'll just tip Sergeant-Major Whittaker that I want you on the committee because I think you're one of the most suitable men they can elect. He'll put you forward—he thinks as I do—and then you'll get a place. You're a gentleman born. You've seen how parties should be run—yes, you have!—and you're popular. Young? Hang it, boy! What does your age matter? There's not a more manly or popular character in the whole Force. Come, Hec', to oblige me! Well, I don't care whether you like it or not—you're going on this committee!"
With that he rode away.
Hector hated this favouritism but was none the less flattered. Welland, it seemed, had taken a fancy to him at the first meeting—had apparently singled him out from the ruck. And now this remarkable demonstration of the man's esteem had come. Welland was one of the best friends of the Force in the country. To be singled out for his favours was a high compliment. But Hector didn't want to be on the committee!
A few days later, at Sergeant-Major Whittaker's instigation, he found himself elected. Preparations commenced. Welland was mainly responsible for their success.
Welland it was who acted as the link between the Police and the civilians, advised the Assistant-Commissioner on a hundred points and, though he modestly refused a place on the committee himself, did more than any other man to help the thing forward. He won the co-operation of the grouchiest store-keepers; solved the difficulty of obtaining enough flags to decorate the ball-room by having them manufactured at Fort Benton, in Montana, the nearest town; soothed all disunity among the members of the citizens' committee with a quiet word here, a story there; and oiled all the wheels of the preliminaries with a master-hand.
And, when the festivities had actually started, Welland was always at hand. If a guest became unruly, he brought him to his senses without disturbing for one moment the smooth tide of convivial joy. If the fiddlers got drunk before the dance, Welland had them in their places, tuning up, as fresh as daisies, when the hour for music came. To crown it all, he was so self-effacing that he might have been a helpful unseen spirit rather than a man.
As for Hector, the Colonel afterwards congratulated him on the part he had played in the arrangements.
"I owe this to Welland," Hector thought, a sentiment which would have greatly pleased that honest gentleman, as it happened to be true.