"Yes, sir. He's got the upper hand of 'em all. They've bought up every
last bit of foreclosed land 'round here. Yes, we was so mighty smart, we
fixed it that nobody'd dare to buy; and nobody 'round here _would_ dare,
even s'posing they got the money, which they ain't--"
"There certainly ain't much loose money 'round here, Wesley. At least,
when I ran the paper I didn't find it; I was glad to rent an abandoned
farm and trade my subscription list for enough corn to pay the first
instalment on some stock and a cultivator."
"Did you pay any more?"
"No; times got worse instead of better. I'd have lost the stock and the
cultivator and every blamed thing in the way of implement I've got if it
hadn't been for you fellows running the implement man out of the
country; he'd a chattel mortgage that was a terror. But what were you
saying about the land? Nobody would buy?"
"Of course nobody would buy, and we hugged ourselves we was so durned
slick. Oh, my! Now, here comes along one of them bloody trusts that's
eating this country up, and goes to the land company and buys the
foreclosed land for a song. It goes all the cheaper because its known
far and wide that we elected the sheriff not to enforce writs, but to
resist 'em; and the same with all the officers; and we're ready to shoot
down any man that tries to push us off the earth. That scared folks, and
the investment company sold cheap as dirt. They knew they couldn't git
anybody to take up a farm 'round here. Look a' there!" He jerked the
point of the switch that served for whip in the direction of a dark
bulk looming against the glowing belt of red in the west. The outlines
of a ruined chimney toppled over the misshapen roof. The door and window
openings gaped forlornly; doors and windows were gone long since,
wrenched off for other needs. Bit by bit the house had been nibbled
at--here a porch platform taken, there a patch of weather-boarding,
shingles pulled from the roof, the corn crib a wreck, the outbuildings
carried away piece-meal--until, a sadder ruin than fire leaves, it faced
the sunset and the prairie.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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