The man appeared a trifle embarrassed. The rights of the Press are sacred in a free country, sir, he said.
Well, said Grant drily, although I hope it will be, this country isnt quite free yet. I surmise that you dont know that the office of your contemporary farther east was broken into a few hours ago, and an article written by a friend of mine pulled out of the press. The proprietor was quietly held down upon the floor when he objected. You will hear whether I am right or wrong to-morrow.
What the man would have answered did not appear, for just then somebody shouted, and a trail of smoke swept up above the rim of the prairie. It rose higher and whiter, something that flashed dazzlingly grew into shape beneath it, and there was a curious silence when the dusty cars rolled into the little station. It was followed by a murmur as an elderly man in broad white hat and plain store clothing, and a plump, blue-eyed young woman, came out upon the platform of a car. He wore a pair of spectacles and gazed about him in placid inquiry, until Grant stepped forward. Then he helped the young woman down, and held out a big, hard hand.
Mr. Grant? he said.
Grant nodded, and raised his hat to the girl. Yes, he said. Mr. Muller?
Ja, said the other man. Also der fräulein Muller.
There was a little ironical laughter from the crowd. A Dutchman, said somebody, from Chicago. They raise them there in the sausage machine. The hogs go in at one end, and they rake the Dutchmen out of the other.
Muller looked round inquiringly, but apparently failed to discover the speaker.
Dot, he said, is der chestnut. I him have heard before.
There was good-humoured laughter for even when it has an animus an American crowd is usually fair; and in the meanwhile five or six other men got down from a car. They were lean and brown, with somewhat grim faces, and were dressed in blue shirts and jean.
Well, said one of them, were Americans. Got any objections to us getting off here, boys?
Some of the men in store clothing nodded a greeting, but there were others in wide hats, and long boots with spurs, who jeered.
Brought your plough-cows along? said one, and the taunt had its meaning, for it is usually only the indigent and incapable who plough with oxen.
No, said one of the newcomers. We have horses back yonder. When we want mules or cowsteerers, I guess well find them here. You seem to have quite a few of them around.
A man stepped forward, jingling his spurs, with his jacket of embroidered deerskin flung open to show, though this was as yet unusual, that he wore a bandolier. Rolling back one loose sleeve he displayed a brown arm with the letters C. R. tattooed within a garter upon it. See this. Youve heard of that mark before? he said.
Cash required!
said the newcomer, with a grin. Well, I guess thats not astonishing. It would be a blame foolish man who gave you credit.
No, sir, said the stockrider. Its Cedar Range, and theres twenty boys and more cattle than you could count in a long day carrying that brand. It will be a cold day when you and the rest of the Dakotas start kicking against that outfit.
There was laughter and acclamation, in the midst of which the cars rolled on; but in the meanwhile Grant had seized the opportunity to get a gang-plough previously unloaded from a freight-car into a wagon. The sight of it raised a demonstration, and there were hoots, and cries of approbation, while a man with a flushed face was hoisted to the top of a kerosene-barrel.
Boys, he said, theres no use howling. Were Americans. Nobody can stop us, and were going on. You might as well kick against a railroad; and because the plough and the small farmer will do more for you than even the locomotive did, they have got to come. Well, now, some of you are keeping stores, and one or two I see here baking bread and making clothes. Which is going to do the most for your trade and you, a handful of rich men, who wouldnt eat or wear the things you have to sell, owning the whole country, or a family farming on every quarter section? A town ten times this size wouldnt be much use to them. Well, youve had your cattle-barons, gentlemen most of them; but even a man of that kind has to step out of the track and make room when the nations moving on.
He probably said more, but Grant did not hear him, for he had as unostentatiously as possible conveyed Muller and the fräulein into a wagon, and had horses led up for the Dakota men. They had some difficulty in mounting, and the crowd laughed good-humouredly, though here and there a man flung jibes at them; while one, jolting in his saddle as his broncho reared, turned to Grant with a little deprecatory gesture.
In our country we mostly drive in wagons, but Ill ride by the stirrup and get down when nobody sees me, he said. The beast wouldnt try to climb out this way if there wasnt something kind of prickly under his saddle.
Grants face was a trifle grim when he saw that more of the horses were inclined to behave similarly, but he flicked his team with the whip, and there was cheering and derision when, with a drumming of hoofs and rattle of wheels, wagons and horsemen swept away into the dust-cloud that rolled about the trail.