Heart's Desire

by Emerson Hough

  CHAPTER XVIII

  THE MEETING AT HEART'S DESIRE

  _How Benevolent Assimilation was checked by Unexpected Events_

  There are two problems in life, and only two: food and love.Civilization offers us no more, nor indeed does barbarism; forcivilization and barbarism are not far apart. The great metropoliswhich sent its emissaries out to the little mountain hamlet never heldwithin its teeming confines any greater or graver questions than thosewhich were now to come before the town meeting of Heart's Desire.

  Down at the stone hotel of Uncle Jim Brothers the tables had beencleared away to make room for this event, the first of its kind everknown in that valley. Heretofore there had been no covenant amongthese men, no law save that which lay in leather on each man's thigh.It was a land of the individual; and a sweeter land than that for a manwas never known in all the world. Now these men were coming togetherto debate what we call a great question, but what is really a smallquestion--that of an organization under the laws of what is denominatedcivilization; that compact which the world devised long ago, when firstman's flocks and herds became of value, and against which the world hassince then rebelled, and ever will rebel, until there is no longer anyworld remaining, nor any worth the name of man.

  The long room, low and bare, was filled with silent, bearded men. Twoor three smoky little lamps but served to emphasize the gloom. At thefarther end, on chairs raised a few inches above the level of thefloor, sat John Ellsworth and Porter Barkley. The latter was the firstto address the meeting, and he made what might have been called an ableeffort.

  Ignoring the fact that civilization had been summoned to the bar ofHeart's Desire for trial, and assuming that barbarism was put upon itsdefensive, he pointed out to the men of Heart's Desire that they hadlong been living in a state of semi-savagery. To be sure, they had notyet had among them men of executive and organizing minds, but thefulness of years had now brought this latter privilege.

  He paused, waiting a space for applause, but no applause came. He feltupon him scores of straight-forward eyes, unwavering, steady.

  The town, in its new shape, he hurried on to explain, ought, of course,to wipe out and forget its past. Even the name, "Heart's Desire," wasan absurd one, awkward, silly, meaning nothing. They had tremendouscoal-fields directly at their doors. He suggested the name ofCoalville as an eminently practical one for the reconstructedcommunity. His suggestion brought out a stir, a shuffle, a sigh; butno more.

  Mr. Barkley declared that there must be a fundamental revolution as tothe old ideas of Heart's Desire. There had been no courts. There hadbeen no government, no society. It was time that the old days of themining camp and cow town were done, time that miner's law and no law atall should give way to the laws of the Territory, to the laws of theUnited States government, and to the greater law of industrial progress.

  He additionally, and with a hardening of his voice, pointed out that,under the provisions of the laws of society and civilization, propertybelonged only to the man who held the legal title to it. The gentlemenrepresenting this new railroad were the first to assume legal title tothis town site; they had taken all necessary steps, and intended tohold this town site in the courts as their own. Their expenses wouldbe very large, and they proposed to be repaid. They felt that theirholdings in the valley would warrant them in going ahead rapidly withtheir plans of development. They had bought some few claims in thecoal-fields, had filed on others for themselves, and had taken overother and abandoned claims on both sides of the valley. Theirdisposition was not to be hostile. They hoped, after the preliminaryorganization of the town government should have been completed, to havethe unanimous ratification of all their actions. They felt mostfriendly, most friendly indeed, toward the hardy citizens of thisremote community. They proposed to help them all they could. He feltit a distinguished privilege for himself to be the man to take thefirst steps for the organization of the new commercial metropolis ofCoalville.

  But it was distinctly to be understood by all that the gentlemen whomhe represented did not propose to entertain, and would not tolerate,any interference with their plans. He begged, in conclusion, topresent to them, with the request for a respectful and intelligenthearing, that able, that distinguished, that benevolent gentleman, wellknown in financial circles of the East, Mr. John Ellsworth of New York,who would now address them.

  Barkley sat down, and, with customary gesture of the orator, passed hishandkerchief across his brow. Then he gazed up, surprised. Theapplause was long in coming. He straightened in his chair. Theapplause did not come at all. The men of Heart's Desire sat hard andgrim, each silent, each looking straight ahead, nor asking any counsel.

  Ellsworth felt the chill which lay upon the audience, and understoodits meaning. He stood before them, a rather portly figure, clean,ruddy, well clad, fully self-possessed, and now, by intent,conciliatory. With hands behind his back, he told a certain funnylittle story with which he had been wont to conquer, at least in socialgatherings. No ripple came in response. The eyes of the men ofHeart's Desire looked as intolerably keen and straight at him as theyhad at his predecessor. He could feel them plainly in the gloom beyond.

  Unconsciously on the defensive now, he explained in detail theundeniable advantages which would accrue to Heart's Desire on theadvent of this railroad and the carrying out of the plans that had beenoutlined. He did not deny that he considered the opinion of hiscounsel valid; that the valley was in effect open to settlement; thatthey had taken steps to put the first legal possession in their ownnames. Yet, he stated, although they had taken over a number of claimsto which there seemed to be no legal title, they did not propose tointerfere, if it could be avoided, with the holdings of any man thenliving in Heart's Desire. The re-survey of the town would naturallymake some changes, but these should sit as lightly as possible uponthose affected. Of course, the railroad company could condemn andconfiscate, but it did not wish to confiscate. It desired to take theattitude of justice and fairness. The gentlemen should bear in mindthat all these improvements ran into very considerable sums of money.A hundred miles of the railroad below them must pass over a barrenplain, a cattle country and not an agricultural region, and henceoffering relatively small support to a railroad enterprise. As yet,artesian water was unknown in that country, and might remain always aproblem. No natural streams crossed that great dry table land whichlay to the west, or the similar plateau to the east. All their hopeslay in this one valley and its resources, and while without doubt thoseresources were great, while the coal-fields upon the one side of thevalley and the gold claims upon the other had been proved beyond aperadventure to be of value, the gentlemen should nevertheless rememberthat all this road building and mine developing cost money, a greatdeal of money. Of course, no capital could be invested except underthe protection of a stable and adequate system of the law.

  These gentlemen before him, Ellsworth said in conclusion, had chosenfor their habitation one of the most delightful localities he had everseen in all his travels. He congratulated them. He looked forward toseeing a prosperous city built up in this happy valley. The countrywas changing, and it must change, the line of the frontier passingsteadily from the east to the west across the continent. They couldnot forever escape civilization. Indeed, it had now come to them. Hehoped that they would receive it, and that they would receive him astheir friend.

  As he closed, Ellsworth found himself not dictating, but almostpleading. The stern gravity of his audience removed the edge of anyarrogance he might have felt. He sat down and in turn passed his handacross his forehead, as perplexed as had been Barkley before him. Bothgrew uneasy. There was a shifting in the seats out in the half-lightedinterior before them, but there came no sound of applause or comment.Ellsworth leaned over and whispered to his associate.

  "There's something up," said he. "We haven't got them going. What'son their minds? Where's Anderson? He ought to be here. Get him, andlet's nominate him for mayor, or
something. This thing's going tosplit!"

  "I'll go out and find him," whispered Barkley, and so slipped out ofthe room.

  He did find him, aloof, alone, pacing slowly up and down the street,the one man needed by both divergent interests, and the one man absent."Good God! Anderson," protested Barkley. "What are you doing out hereby yourself? We need you in there. They're like bumps on a log. Wecan't get them started at all."

  "That's funny," said Dan Anderson.

  "Funny! I don't _think_ it's very funny. You are the one supposed tounderstand these men, and we want you now to deliver the goods."

  "If you will pardon me, sir," said Dan Anderson, facing him with hishands in his pockets, "I don't exactly like that expression."

  "Like it or not," retorted Barkley, hotly. "You belong in there, andnot out here in the moonlight studying over your maiden speech. Whatare you afraid of?"

  "Of nothing," said Dan Anderson, simply. "Or, of nothing but myself."

  "But we need another strong talk to stir them up."

  "Go make it, then."

  "What's that!" cried Barkley, sharply; "you'll not come in."

  "No, I'm done with it."

  "Why, damn your soul! man, you don't mean to tell me that you'veflunked--that you've gone back on us?"

  Dan Anderson bit his lip, but continued silent.

  "You've taken our money!" exclaimed Barkley. "We've hired you, boughtyou! We won't stand for any foolishness, and we won't put up with anytreachery, I want you to understand that. Your place is in there, atthe meeting--and here you are standing around as though you weremooning over some girl."

  "I hadn't noticed the moonlight," said Dan Anderson. "As to the restof it, the street of this town has usually been free for a man to thinkas he pleased."

  "You're a traitor and a squealer!" cried Barkley.

  "You're a damned cad!" retorted Dan Anderson, calmly. He stepped closeto the other now, although his hands remained in his pockets. "Idislike to make these remarks to an oiled and curled Assyrian ass," hewent on, smiling, "but under the circumstances, I do; and it goes."

  Porter Barkley, dominant, arrogant, aggressive, for years accustomed tohaving his own way with men, felt a queer sensation now--a replica,fourfold intensified, of that he had experienced before the silentaudience he had left within. He was afraid. Dan Anderson steppedstill closer to him, his face lowered, his lips smiling, his eyeslooking straight into his own.

  "It's just what I said," began Barkley, desperately, "I toldConstance--"

  The wonder was that Barkley lived, for the resort to weapons was theonly remedy known in that land, and Dan Anderson knew the creed, asBarkley should have known it. His weapon leaped out in his hand as hedrew back, his lean body bent in the curve of the fanged rattler aboutto strike. He did strike, but not with the point of flame. The heavyrevolver came to a level, but the hooked finger did not press thetrigger. Instead, the cylinder smote Porter Barkley full upon thetemple, and he fell like a log. Dan Anderson checked himself, seeingthe utter unconsciousness of the fallen man. For a moment he lookeddown upon him, then walked a few steps aside, standing as does the wildstag by its prostrate rival. The fierce heats of that land, stillprimitive, now flamed in his soul, gone swiftly and utterly savage. Itwas some moments before he thrust the heavy weapon back into itsscabbard, and, turning, strode toward the door.

  As he entered the crowded room he was recognized, and heard his namecalled again and again. The audience had wakened, was alive!Ellsworth, sitting, alone and anxious, looked up hopefully and beckonedDan Anderson to his side. The latter seemed scarce to know him, as hewalked to the end of the hall and, without preliminary, began to speak.

  "Gentlemen," said he,--"boys--I am glad to answer you. I have twicebeen invited to speak at this meeting. Rather I should say that I amnow invited by you. A moment ago I was commanded, ordered to speak, bya man who seemed to think he was my owner.

  "He thought himself my owner by reason of this!" He drew from hispocket the roll of bills which had been untouched since he had receivedthem at Sky Top. "Here's my first fee as a lawyer. It's a thousanddollars. I wanted the money. My business is that of the law. I amopen to employment. You ought not to blame me--you shall not blameme." He held the money in his hand above his head.

  The silent audience looked at him gravely, with eyes level andstraight, as it had regarded the speakers preceding him.

  "But--" and here he stiffened--"I did not know I was asked to helpsteal this town, to help rob my friends. These men have proposed totake what was not theirs. They have wanted no methods but their own.They have not asked, but ordered. If this is their way, they'll haveto get some other man."

  The men of Heart's Desire still looked at him gravely, silently.

  "Now," said Dan Anderson, "I've had my chance to choose, and I'vechosen. The choice has cost me much, but that has been my personalcost, with which you have nothing to do. I am throwing away my chance,my future, but I do throw them away!"

  As he spoke he flung at Mr. Ellsworth's feet the roll of bills. "Sir,"said he, "it is the sense of this meeting that the railroad shall notcome into Heart's Desire. Is it so?" he asked of the eyes and thedarkness; and a deep murmur said that it was so.

  Dan Anderson stepped down from the little platform out into the room.Hands were thrust out to him, but he seemed not to see them. He pushedon out, haggard; and presently the assemblage followed, breaking apartawkwardly, and leaving Ellsworth standing alone at the rear of the room.

  Ellsworth was now wondering what had become of Barkley, and in hisdiscomfiture was turning around in search, when he heard a voice behindhim, and passing back encountered Barkley, staggering and bloody, as heentered through a side door of the building.

  "Great God! man, what's the matter?" exclaimed Ellsworth. "What'shappened to you?"

  "That fellow struck me with a gun. Let me in! Let me get fixed forhim! By God! I'll kill him."

  "Kill whom? Who did it? Wait! Wait, now!" expostulated Ellsworth,following him toward his room; but Barkley still fumed and threatened."That fellow Anderson--" Ellsworth caught.

  The sound of their voices reached other ears. Constance came runningfrom her own room, questioning.

  "Barkley's been hurt," explained her father, motioning her away. "Somemistake. He and Anderson have had trouble over this railroad business,some way."

  "By God! I'll kill him!" shrieked Barkley again, in spite of herpresence, perhaps because of it. "Where can I get a gun?"

  "You forget--my daughter--" began Ellsworth. But Constance avenged thediscourtesy for herself.

  "Never mind, papa," she said coldly. "Mr. Barkley, you lookridiculous. Go wash your face; and then, if you want a gun, go get onein the front room. The wall's full of them." A glint of scorn was inher eyes, which carried no mercy for the vanquished, nor any concernfor the victor. She drew her father with her into her own room.

  "By the Lord! girl," exclaimed he, "things have come out different fromwhat we expected. I never thought--"

  "No," said Constance, "you never thought. You didn't know." She spokebitterly.

  Ellsworth sank down in a chair, his hands in his pockets. "Well, we'rewhipped," said he. "The game's up. That fellow Anderson did us up,after all,--and look here, here's the money he threw back, almost in myface. They went with him like so many lambs. Confound it all, I don'tmore'n half believe I ever understood that fellow."

  "No, you never did," said Constance, slowly. She was sitting upon theedge of the bed, gazing at her father quietly. "And so he threw awayhis chance?"

  "Just what he did. Said it meant a lot for him to throw away hisfuture, but he was going to do it."

  "Did he say that?" asked the girl.

  "Sure he said it! There's not going to be any railroad at Heart'sDesire; and incidentally Mr. Daniel Anderson isn't going to be mayor,or division counsel with a salary of ten thousand dollars a year. Oh,well, to-morrow we'll pull out of here."
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  Constance was deliberate with her reply. "One thing, dad, is sure,"said she; "when we go, you and I go together. Let Porter Barkley takethe stage to-morrow if he likes. You and I'll go back by way of SkyTop; and we'll go alone."

  Ellsworth pursed his lips into a whistle, many things perplexing him."He's lucky to get away at all," he remarked at length. "From what hesaid, it looks like there'd be more trouble."

  "Trouble!" She flung out her hand in contempt. "There'll be notrouble if it waits for him to make it. If I know Porter Barkley,he'll know enough to stay right there in his room. If he does not--"

  "By Jinks! Dolly," exclaimed her father, "you remind me all the timeof your mother. I never could fool that woman; and no one ever couldscare her!"

  She looked at him without reply, and though he stroked her hair softly,he departed in discontent, his own head bowed in reflection.

  Meanwhile, out in the long street of Heart's Desire, little groups ofmen gathered; but they held to the sides of the street, within theshelter of angles and doorways. In the centre of the street therepaced slowly up and down, his hands behind his back and not fumblinghis weapon, a tall figure, with head bent slightly forward as inthought, although with eyes keenly watching the door of the hotel.Uncle Jim Brothers himself had brought out word of Barkley'sthreatenings, and according to the only known creed there was but oneissue possible. That issue was now awaited decently and in order. Thestreet was free and fair. Let those concerned settle it forthemselves. Incidentally, Heart's Desire was willing that its questionshould be settled at the same time. Here was its champion, waiting.

  The watchers in the street grew restless, but nothing happened tointerrupt their waiting. Upon the side of the house nearest them,lights shone from three windows. Presently one of these, that in theroom of Constance Ellsworth, was extinguished. A second windowblackened; Mr. Ellsworth had retired. The third light disappeared.Porter Barkley, not yet exactly of the proper drunkenness to findcourage for his recently declared purpose, had concluded to go to sleepinstead.

  In the street Heart's Desire waited patiently, gazing at the darkenedhouse, at the shaded door. Half an hour passed, an hour. DanAnderson, without speech to any one, walked slowly up the street andacross the _arroyo_. The light in his own casita flickered brieflyand then vanished.

  "I told you all along he was game!" said Curly, emerging from thecorner of Whiteman's store and offering everybody a chew from his plugof tobacco. "They ain't runnin' him any, I reckon. Huh?"

  "Shucks!" remarked Uncle Jim, disgustedly. "From the way that fellerBarkley roared around, I shore thought he was a-goin' to tear up theearth. He's so yellow that in the mornin' I'm goin' to tell him tomove on out of town. I've always kep' a respectable house before now,and I never did harbor a man who wouldn't shoot _some_!"

  "In the mornin'," added Doc Tomlinson, as the group broke up, "I'mgoin' to take Dan Anderson that saddle of mine that's layin' around inmy store. Why, what does a man want of a _saddle_ in a drug store? Ijust want to _give_ the boy something."