Agriculture -- Canada; Agriculture -- Canada -- Societies, etc.
"Pshaw! I was hopin' it meant action of some kind." The ex-rancher
was silent for a moment. Then his right fist went into his left palm
with a smack. "The only kind o' resolution that'll get anythin' is
made o' lead and fits in a rifle breech! And I want to tell you, old
man, if there ain't some pretty quick right-about-facin' in certain
quarters, I'll be dashed if I ain't for it! An' I won't be standin'
alone, either!" he added grimly.
W. R. Motherwell[2] glanced sharply at the tense face.
"Don't talk nonsense!" he reproved quietly.
"I ain't talkin' nonsense. Not on your life! If I am, then I reckon I
know a hundred or so hard-headed farmers who're doin' the identical
same. An' if I know that many in my territory, W. R., how many d'you
suppose there are if we take in Manitoba and clean through to the
mountains?"
"Then all I've got to say is: there are more and bigger fools in the
country than I had any idea of."
"What d'you mean, talkin' like that?"
"That's just what I've got to say to you, McNair," retorted the big
farmer with heat. "What do _you_ mean, talking like that? If you're
serious in what you say----"
"I said I was, didn't I?" snapped the other.
"Then you ought to be tied up on the Two-Bar and muzzled, for you're
plumb mad, McNair! It's just that kind of firebrand talk that's
hurting our cause. The farmers have got enough enemies now, God knows,
without making a lot of new ones. Doggone your hide, Mac, what're you
trying to do?--Stir up another rebellion like that of '85?"
"If it's necessary--you bet I am!" he brazened.
"You, of all men!"
"An' why not me? Just because I've worn the Queen's uniform, eh?
Well, let me tell you, sir, I belonged to a body of men who stood for
British justice an' a square deal to even the meanest Injun in the
Territories." The ex-mounted policeman spoke with pride. "We'd never
have handled the beggars if it hadn't been for that. Even the Injuns
were men enough to recognize justice, an' that's more'n these
commercial blood-suckers to-day can do! If our case was in the hands
of the Force it'd rest on its merits an' us grain growers'd get
justice. Instead, where is it?--in the hands of a pussy-footed,
hifalutin' bunch o' political windbags in the East who don't care a
damn about us hayseeds out West! An' what's more----"
"The Royal Mounted stood for law and order, Bob; but you'd class
yourself with the half-breeds, would you? Have another little
rebellion like that of '85 with all the----"
"Not like '85," interrupted the rancher. "No, sir, this one'll be
bloodless; but it'll knock the spots off the 'breeds' little shindig
all the samee!"
"You spoke of rifles, McNair. Guns go off," interpolated the other
sententiously. "What'n the mischief do you expect to gain by that sort
of thing?"
"A hearing, by Jingo! That's more'n all your letters to the papers an'
your meetin's an' resolutions have got us. We'll show 'em we mean
business----"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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