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But Shives struck the anvil a succession of ringing blows which overpowered all rival voices as effectively as any speaker's gavel could have done.
This time the whites were going to leave no stone unturned to make a "killing." Every plan was discussed, and there were not lacking those who called Shives by ugly names behind his back for not seizing on the chance, when it was so easily in his hands, to put the Indian racer under shadow of a sure defeat. But they made no such speeches when the Colonel was in hearing.
"Absolutely certain," was the answer. "My goodness you are right. I distrusted the whole business from the start. You are right; they fooled us on a stool-pigeon; this whole thing was a put-up job. The simple Red man!" The "perchers" were gathered at the blacksmith shop next afternoon. "Well," said Shives, "I've done fifteen dollars' worth of work to-day and haven't taken in a cent."
Shives had a masterful way of assuming the chairmanship, and of doing the job well, often while pounding the anvil; sometimes an effective punctuation of his remarks came in the hiss of hot iron thrust in the tank, and Shives enjoyed the humour of obliterating his opponent for the moment in a cloud of steam.
The shives are thus separated, and two tons of stalks reduced to half a ton of linten, which may be either taken at once to the retort or baled for shipment. When the flax is thus reduced by the farmer to linten, the article is reputed to be worth to the manufacturer four cents a pound, or at least twenty dollars for the product of an acre yielding a single ton of flax-straw.
Carson was one of the most strenuous of the debators. "I tell you, there ain't a bit o' use o' your talking," said Shives. "If I stick my finger in that fire, I'm a-going to get burnt and all the prayers and repentance I can put up ain't a-going to wipe off that burn. I've got to suffer for what I do just the same, whether I belong to church or not."
It touched him as the sage plains did; and the rough wind helped him by driving away all other folk afoot. Northward he went, feeling, but seeing nothing, of the rolling waters. Jack Shives with his caustic words came back to mind: "It's their 'fore-God duty to steal if their babies are hungry and they can't feed them any other way."
Hartigan liked Shives, enjoyed the shop with its smoke and flying sparks, and took a keen relish in the unfettered debate that filled in the intervals between Shives's ringing blows on the anvil. Dr. Jebb thought himself a very up-to-date divine. He had tried to have a sort of free discussion in his study Sunday nights after meeting, but the restraint of parsondom was over it all.
Not that Jim sought it, but he couldn't well avoid it, and he was hailed by all as he came near. Shives came forward in his characteristic way, holding out his hand. "Wall, wall! Now I know you are human in spite of your job! You've gone up about ten pegs in my scale." Carson was there and met him with a broad grin. "So that's what you borrowed my team for? Ho, ho!
But Hartigan, who had a trainer's eye, said to Shives and the "perchers": "Wait for two months and then you will see something." And they did. They saw the young Achilles riding down the street on the wonderful chosen steed of all the herd. There were perfectly balanced life and power in every move of both, the eagerness to up and do, the grace of consummate animalism.
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