A Daughter of the Land

"And how much do the girls get?" he asked darkly.

"Can't say just yet," said Kate. "The notes and mortgages have to

be gone over, and the thing figured out; it will take some time.

Mother and Adam began yesterday; we shall know in a few weeks."

"Sounds to me like a cold-blooded Bates steal," he cried. "Who

figured out what WAS a fair share for the girls; who planned that

arrangement? Why didn't you insist on the thing going through

court; the land belong sold, and equal divisions of all the

proceeds?"

"Now if you'll agree not to say a word until I finish, I'll show

you the figures," said Kate. "I'll tell you what the plan is, and

why it was made, and I'll tell you further that it is already

recorded, and in action. There are no minor heirs. We could make

an agreement and record it. There was no will. Mother will

administer. It's all settled. Wait until I get the figures."

Then slowly and clearly she went over the situation, explaining

everything in detail. When she finished he sat staring at her

with a snarling face.

"You signed that?" he demanded. "You signed that! YOU THREW AWAY

AT LEAST HALF YOU MIGHT HAVE HAD! You let those lazy scoundrels

of brothers of yours hoodwink you, and pull the wool over your

eyes like that? Are you mad? Are you stark, staring mad?"

"No, I'm quite sane," said Kate. "It is you who are mad. You

know my figures, don't you? Those were the only ones used

yesterday. The whole scheme was mine, with help from Mother to

the extent of her giving up everything except the home farm."

"You crazy fool!" he cried, springing up.

"Now stop," said Kate. "Stop right there! I've done what I think

is right, and fair, and just, and I'm happy with the results. Act

decently, I'll stay and build the mill. Say one, only one more of

the nasty, insulting things in your head, and I'll go in there and

wake up the children and we will leave now and on foot."

Confronted with Kate and her ultimatum, George arose and walked

down to the road; he began pacing back and forth in the moonlight,

struggling to regain command of himself. He had no money. He had

no prospect of any until Aunt Ollie died and left him her farm.

He was, as he expressed it, "up against it" there. Now he was "up

against it" with Kate. What she decided upon and proposed to do

was all he could do. She might shave prices, and cut, and skimp,

and haggle to buy material, and put up her building at the least

possible expense. She might sit over books and figure herself

blind. He would be driving over the country, visiting with the

farmers, booming himself for a fat county office maybe, eating big

dinners, and being a jolly good fellow generally. Naturally as

breathing, there came to him a scheme whereby he could buy at the

very lowest figure he could extract; then he would raise the price

to Kate enough to make him a comfortable income besides his share

of the business. He had not walked the road long until his anger

was all gone.