Harold Bindloss

“ There was less fog on the wet sands, where Stephen followed the edge of a channel with a cheap double-barrel gun on his shoulder. As the tide rose, the wild geese would fly across to feed on the marsh, and Stephen knew the line they took. He was not shooting for sport; a grey-lag goose was worth some shillings, and money was scarce. Some day Dryholm would be his, for the Strachans had a traditional right to the lease, and his father would leave him enough to farm it well. ”

“ Stephen shouted, and heard the gun again.
He was nearly sure of its location, and ran forward, dragging little Anne. There was another report. He knew the shooter meant to guide him now, and presently something glimmered in the fog. He stopped at the edge of the water and put Dolly down while he got his breath. He could not see across, but drifting weed and flakes of scum showed how fast the current ran. Moreover, it was creeping up the bank, and he took Anne in his arms.
"You're heaviest," he said. "Don't be frightened—hold tight." ”

“ Nixon admitted that the hardest fight was yet to come. Still, Alice's money would help, and Stephen was as obstinate as his father. He came in by and by, and, after they had made a plan, went back to Dryholm and stated his terms. Strachan, he argued, could not carry on the farm with the help of his herd. Wages were high, and he could not hire a man who would work and care for the land like his son. ”