ind him raging, his
fists clenched, his eyes blazing.
"Is eet that the world is all unjust?" he roared, as he faced Houston.
"Is eet that some of us do our part, while others store up for
emergency? Eh? Bah! I am the mad enough to tear them apart!"
"Who? What's gone wrong?"
"I am the mad! You have no seen the M'sieu Thayer during all the
storm?"
"No."
"Nor the M'sieu Blackburn? Nor the men who work for them. Eh? You
have no seen them?"
"No, not once."
"Ah! I pass to-day the Blackburn mill. They have shovel out about the
sawshed. They have the saw going,--they keep at work, when there are
the women and the babies who starve, when there are the cattle who are
dying, when there is the country that is like a broken thing. But they
work--for themself! They saw the log into the tie--they work from the
piles of timber which they have about the sawmill, to store up the
supply. They know that we do not get our machinery! They have think
they have a chance--for the contract!"
It brought Houston to a sharp knowledge of conditions. They had given,
that the rest of the country might not suffer. Their enemies had
worked on, fired with the new hope that the road over the mountains
would not be opened; that the machinery so necessary to the carrying
out of Houston's contract would not arrive in time to be of aid. For
without the ability to carry out the first necessities of that
agreement, the rest must surely and certainly fail. Long before,
Houston had realized the danger that the storm meant; there had been no
emergency clause in the contract. Now his hands clenched, his teeth
gritted.
"It almost seems that there's a premium on being crooked, Ba'tiste,"
came at last. "It--"
Then he ceased. A shout had come from the distance. Faintly through
the sifting snow they could see figures running. Then the words
came,--faint, far-away, shrill shouts forcing their way through the
veil of the storm.
"They're going to open the road! They're going to open the road!"
Here, there and back again it came, men calling to men, the few women
of the little settlement braving the storm that they too might add to
the gladful cry. Already, according to the telegram, snow-fighting
machinery and men were being assembled in Denver for the first spurt
toward Tollifer, and from there through the drifts and slides of the
hills toward Crestline. Ba'tiste and Houston were running now, as fast
as their snows
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