“Ef we needed it, it ud be a different matter,” Miller overheard him say in a sudden lull, as the big room settled down into sudden quiet, “but we kin do without it. We've got along so fur an' we kin furder. All of us has got good teams.”
Wilson, in his crisp, brusque way, made the opening speech. He told his hearers just what his company proposed to do and in much the same cold-blooded way as he would have dictated a letter to his stenographer, correctly punctuating the text by pauses, and yet, in his own way, endeavoring to be eloquent. He and his capital were going to dispel darkness where it had reigned since the dawn of civilization; people living there now would not recognize the spot ten years from the day the first whistle of a locomotive shrilled through those rocky gorges and rebounded from those lofty peaks—silent fingers pointing to God and speaking of a past dead and gone. All that was needed, he finished, was the consent of the property-owners appealed to; who, he felt confident, would not stand in their own light. They looked like intelligent men, and he believed they did not deceive appearances.
He had hardly taken his seat when Joe Bartell stood up. Alan and Miller exchanged ominous glances. They had at once recognized the inappropriateness of Wilson's speech, and did not like the white, twitching sneer on Bartell's smooth-shaven face. It was as if Bartell had been for a long time seeking just such an opportunity to make himself felt in the community, and there was no doubt that Wilson's almost dictatorial speech had made a fine opening for him.
“Fellow-citizens, an' ladies an' gentlemen,” he began, “we are glad to welcome amongst us a sort of a second savior in our Sodom an' Gomorry of cracker-dom. What the gentleman with the plug hat an' spike-toe shoes ain't a-goin' to do fer us the Lord couldn't. He looks nice an' talks nice, an', to use his words, I don't believe he deceives appearances. I 'll bet one thing, an' that is 'at he won't deceive us. Accordin' to him we need 'im every hour, as the Sunday-school song puts it. Yes, he's a-goin' to he'p us powerful an' right off. An', fellow-citizens, I'm heer to propose a vote o' thanks. He's from away up in Boston, whar, they tell me, a nigger sets an' eats at the same table with the whites. When his sort come this away durin' the war, with all the'r up-to-date impliments of slaughter, they laid waste to ever'thing they struck, shot us like rabbits in holes, an' then went back an' said they'd had a good hunt. But they've been livin' high up thar sence the war an' the'r timber is a-playin' out, an' they want some more now, an' they want it bad. So they send the'r representatives out to find it an' lay hold of it. How does he happen to come heer? As well as I kin make out, old Alf Bishop, a good man an' a Southern soldier—a man that I hain't got nothin' agin, except maybe he holds his head too high, made up his mind awhile back that lumber would be in demand some day, an' he set to work buyin' all the timber-land he could lay his hands on. Then, when he had more'n he could tote, an' was about to go under, he give this gentleman a' option on it. Well, so fur so good; but, gentlemen, what have we got to do with this trade? Nothin' as I kin see. But we are expected to yell an' holler, an' deed 'em a free right of way through our property so they kin ship the timber straight through to the North an' turn it into cold Yankee coin. We don't count in this shuffle, gentlemen. We git our pay fer our land in bein' glad an' heerin' car-bells an' steam-whistles in the middle o' the night when we want to sleep. The engynes will kill our hogs, cattle, an' hosses, an' now an' then break the neck o' some chap that wasn't hit in the war, but we mustn't forget to be glad an' bend the knee o' gratitude. Of course, we all know the law kin compel us to give the right of way, but it provides fer just and sufficient payment fer the property used; an', gentlemen, I'm agin donations. I'm agin' em tooth an' toe-nail.”
There was thunderous and ominous applause when Bartell sat down. Wilson sat flushed and embarrassed, twirling his gloves in his hands. He had expected anything but this personal fusillade. He stared at Miller in surprise over that gentleman's easy, half-amused smile as he stood up.
“Gentlemen,” he began, “and ladies,” he added, with a bow to the right and left. “As many of you know, I pretend to practise law a little, and I want to say now that I'm glad Mr. Bartell ain't in the profession. A lawyer with his keen wit and eloquence could convict an innocent mother before a jury of her own children. [Laughter.] And that's the point, gentlemen; we are innocent of the charges against us. I am speaking now of my clients, the Bishops. They are deeply interested in the development of this section. The elder Bishop does hold his head high, and in this case he held it high enough to smell coming prosperity in the air. He believed it would come, and that is why he bought timber-lands extensively. As for the accused gentleman from the Hub of the Universe, I must say that I have known of him for several years and have never heard a word against his character. He is not a farmer, but a business man, and it would be unfair to judge him by any other standard. He is not only a business man, but a big one. He handles big things. This railroad is going to be a big thing for you and your children. Yes, Wilson is all right. He didn't fight in the late unpleasantness. He tells the women he was too young; but I believe he hadn't the heart to fight a cause as just as ours. His only offence is in the matter of wearing sharp-toed shoes. There is no law against 'em in Atlanta, and he's simply gotten careless. He is ignorant of our ideas of proper dress, as befitting a meek and lowly spirit, which, in spite of appearances, I happen to know Wilson possesses. However, I have heard him say that these mountains produce the best corn liquor that ever went down grade in his system. He's right. It's good. Pole Baker says it's good, and he ought to know. [Laughter, in which Pole joined good-naturedly.] That reminds me of a story,” Miller went on. “They tell this of Baker. They say that a lot of fellows were talking of the different ways they would prefer to meet death if it had to come. One said drowning, another shooting, another poisoning, and so on; but Pole reserved his opinion to the last. When the crowd urged him to say what manner of death he would select, if he had to die and had his choice, he said: 'Well, boys, ef I had to go, I'd like to be melted up into puore corn whiskey an' poured through my throat tell thar wasn't a drap left of me.'[Laughter and prolonged applause.] And Wilson said further, gentlemen and ladies, that he believed the men and women of this secluded section were, in their own way, living nearer to God than the inhabitants of the crowded cities. Wilson is not bad, even if he has a hang-dog look. A speech like Bartell's just now would give a hang-dog look to a paling-fence. Wilson is here to build a railroad for your good and prosperity, and he can' t build one where there is nothing to haul out. If he buys up timber for his company, it is the only way to get them to back him in the enterprise. Now, gentlemen of the opposition, if there are any here to-day, don't let the thought of Wilson's possible profit rob you of this golden opportunity. I live at Darley, but, as many of you know, this is my father's native county, and I want to see it bloom in progress and blossom like the rose of prosperity. I want to see the vast mineral wealth buried in these mountains dug out for the benefit of mankind wherever God's sunlight falls.”
Miller sat down amid much applause, a faint part of which came even from the ranks of Bartell's faction. After this a pause ensued in which no one seemed willing to speak. Colonel Barclay rose and came to Miller.
“That was a good talk,” he whispered. “You understand how to touch 'em up. You set them to laughin'; that's the thing. I wonder if it would do any good for me to try my hand.”
“Do they know you have any timber-land over here?” asked Miller.
“Oh yes, I guess they do,” replied the Colonel.