It was a glorious day. There was vigor in the warm breeze that swept the grassy waste; the sunshine that bathed the black loam where the green blades were springing up seemed filled with promise; but as the sale proceeded George became sensible of a vague compunction. The sight of the new wheat troubled him—Langside had laboriously sown that crop, which somebody else would reap. Watching the battered domestic utensils and furniture being carried out for sale had the same disturbing effect. Poor and comfortless as the shack was, it had, until rude hands had desecrated it, been a home. George felt that he was consenting to the ruin of a defenseless man, assisting to drive him forth, a wanderer and an outcast. He wondered how far the terrors of loneliness had urged Langside into his reckless courses—homesteaders scattered about the wide, empty spaces occasionally became insane—but with an effort he overcame the sense of pity.
Langside had slackly given way, and, choosing an evil part, had become a menace to the community; as Grant had said, he must go. This was unavoidable, and though the duty of getting rid of him was painful, it must be carried out. George was usually unsuspicious and of easy-going nature up to a certain point, but there was a vein of hardness in him.
Once or twice the auctioneer was interrupted by jeering cries, but he kept his temper and the sale went on, though George noticed that only a few strangers made any purchases. At length, when the small sundries had been cleared off, there was a curious silence as the land was put up. It was evident that the majority of those present had been warned not to bid.
The auctioneer made a little speech in praise of the property, and paused when it fell flat; then, while George wondered what understanding the creditors had arrived at with Grant, a brown-faced stranger strode forward.
"I've been advised to let this place alone," he said. "I suppose you have a right to sell?"
"Yes, sir," replied the auctioneer. "Come along, and look at my authority, if you want. It's mortgaged property that has been foreclosed after the creditors had waited a long while for a settlement, and I may say that the interest demanded is under the present market rate. Everything's quite regular; no injustice has been done. If you're a purchaser, I'll take your bid."
"Then I'll raise you a hundred dollars," said the man.
There was a growl of dissatisfaction, and the stranger turned to the part of the crowd from which it proceeded.
"This is an open auction, boys. I was born in the next province, and I've seen a good many farms seized in the years when we have had harvest frost, but this is the first time I ever saw anybody try to interfere with a legal sale. Guess you may as well quit yapping, unless you mean to bid against me."
There was derisive laughter, and a loafer from Sage Butte threw a clod. Then another growl, more angry than the first, broke out as Grant, moving forward into a prominent place, nodded to the auctioneer. His rugged face was impassive, and he ignored the crowd. A number of the farmers strolled toward him and stood near by with a resolute air which had its effect on the others, though George saw by Grant's look of surprise that he had not expected this. Another man made a bid, and the competition proceeded languidly, but except for a little mocking laughter and an occasional jeer, nobody interfered. In the end, the stranger bought the land; and soon afterward Grant walked up to George.