Sanderson

“ Sanderson had some bitter thoughts as he sat on the edge of the cot, all of them centering around Dale, Silverthorn, Maison, Owen, Mary Bransford, and himself. He realized that he had been defeated in the first clash with the forces opposed to him, that Owen had turned traitor, that Mary Bransford's position now was more precarious than it had been before his coming, and that he had to deal with resourceful, desperate, and unscrupulous men. ”

“ Sanderson had reached the center of the trail, through Devil's Hole, before he again looked back.
What he saw caused him to pull Streak up with a jerk. The head of the herd had burst through the entrance to the Hole, and, opening fanlike, had gone headlong into the quicksand.
Fascinated with the magnitude of the catastrophe, Sanderson paid no attention to the few steers that went past him, snorting wildly; he sat rigid on his horse and watched the destruction of the herd. ”

“ For, as all the forces of a human being combine unconsciously to eject a grain of sand that has crept beneath the skin to cause discomfort, so the entire mass of what Sanderson had called the Collective Consciousness of the Forest strove to eject this human atom that stood across the path of its desire. Loving her husband, she had crept beneath its skin. ”

“ Sanderson is somewhat above the medium height, finely formed, well-developed head, and a pleasing face; an excellent voice, which he knows how to use. His gestures are correct without being studied, and his sentences always tell upon his audience. Few speakers are more happy in their delivery than he. In one of those outbursts of true eloquence for which he is so noted, we still remember the impression made upon his hearers, when, on one occasion, he exclaimed, "Neither men nor governments have a right to sell those of their species; men and their liberty are neither purchasable nor salable. ”

“ A curious wistful expression danced a moment through his eyes. 'Yes, Sanderson has seen it as it is,' he murmured, 'solemnly dreaming there its dim hidden life against the Forest edge, and as different from that other tree in Kent as I am from—from the vicar, say. It's quite a stranger, too. I don't know anything about it really. That other cedar I loved; this old fellow I respect. Friendly though—yes, on the whole quite friendly. He's painted the friendliness right enough. He saw that. I'd like to know that man better,' he added. ”

“ Sanderson had bridged it, by his talk, his explanations, his attitude of mind. Through these her husband had found the way into it. His temperament and natural passion for the woods had prepared the soul in him, and the moment he saw the way to go he took it—the line of least resistance. Life was, of course, open to all, and her husband had the right to choose it where he would. ”

“ Then did the Harvard hosts burst into one mighty and prolonged cheer that made the air tremble. Sanderson was the hero of the hour. Gray-haired old men jumped up and shouted his name with that of the university. It was one mad pandemonium of excitement, till the game was won, and the crowd woke up amid the "Rah, Rahs, Harvard, Sanderson."
Anna's cheeks burned crimson. She clapped her hands to the final destruction of her gloves. She patted the roses he had sent her. She had never dreamed that life was so beautiful, so full of happiness. ”

“ Sanderson was the favored guest of the most celebrated savans and wits, many of whom since his return to the United States, have waited anxiously for his restoration to their circles. And he himself looked forward with happy anticipations to the renewal of his old friendships. In a few months he was to reöccupy his apartments in the Rue Rivoli. ‘There,’ he said to the writer of these recollections but a week ago, ‘there with congenial spirits I shall spend the residue of my days.’ How much those friends will sorrow when they learn that John Sanderson is no more! ”

“ Sanderson had always loved a fight, and the prospect of bringing defeat and confusion upon Dale was one that made his pulses leap with delight.
He got up on the morning following Dale's visit, tingling with eagerness. And yet there was no sign of emotion in his face when he sat with Mary Bransford at breakfast, and he did not even look at her when he left the house, mounted his horse, and rode up the gorge that split the butte at the southern end of the range. ”

“ Sanderson asked of the boy.
"Let him fight for his life. Give him a gun, and me one. We'll settle this for good and all."
The eyes of the old Confederate gleamed, though he negatived the idea promptly.
"That wouldn't be a square deal, Phil. He's our prisoner, and he has killed one of our men. It wouldn't be right for one of us to meet him on even terms."
"Give me a gun, and I'll meet all of you!" cried Weaver, eyes gleaming.
"By God, you're on! That's a sporting proposition," Sanderson retorted promptly. "Lets us out, too. I don't fancy killing in cold blood, myself. ”

“ Sanderson found it hard to resent the man's seeming impertinence. He grinned reluctantly at him.
"Did I tell you you'd hurt my feelin's?" he inquired. "What oven do you think I had my head in?"
"I didn't say," grinned the little man. "There's places that are hotter than an oven. And if a man has never been a wolf with women, it might be expected that he'd feel sort of warm to be kissed and fussed over by a sister he's not seen for a good many years. He'd seem like a stranger to her—almost."
Sanderson's eyes glowed with a new interest in the little man. ”

“ Sanderson heard Williams' voice, raised in savage exultation:
"Nip my ear, will you—yon measly son-of-a-gun! I'll show you!
"Got him with my pistol!" he yelled to one of the Double A men near him. "Come on out and fight like men, you miserable whelps!"
The young engineer's fighting blood was up—that was plain to Sanderson. Sanderson grinned, yielded to a solemn hope that Williams would not get reckless and expose himself needlessly, and began to examine the walls of the fissure to determine on a new offensive movement. ”

“ He was slim and spare in figure, active in his movements. In the dim light, but for that silvery moustache, he might easily have passed for a man of forty. I'll suggest it to her anyhow, he decided on his way upstairs to dress. His thought really was that Sanderson could probably explain his world of things he had always felt about—trees. A man who could paint the soul of a cedar in that way must know it all.
Why not? she gave her verdict later over the bread-and-butter pudding; unless you think he'd find it dull without companions.
He would paint all day in the Forest, dear. ”

“ She stood in the doorway between the dining-room and the kitchen, looking at Sanderson in sleepy-eyed bewilderment.
"I saw you riding in," she said. "Where on earth have you been at this hour? You came from the direction of Okar."
"Business," he grinned.
"Business! Why, what kind of business could take you to Okar during the night?"
"If you could get the sleep out of your eyes," he suggested, "mebbe you could see. It's the kind of business that all the world is interested in—gettin' the money."
And then she saw the packages of bills. ”

“ Through the archway connecting the office with the saloon came a broad beam of light from a number of kerosene lamps. From beyond the archway issued the buzz of voices and the clink of glasses; peering through the opening Sanderson could see that the barroom was crowded.
Sanderson mounted the stairs leading from the office. When he had left Owen, the latter had told Sanderson that it was his intention to spend the time until the return of his friend in reading. ”

“ If Sanderson took ninety thousand dollars away from Maison, Maison was sure to tell Dale and Silverthorn about it—for they're as thick as three in a bed. And none of them are the kind of men to stand for that kind of stuff from anybody—not even from a man like Sanderson! ”

“ Give every man half a tumbler full, and let Sanderson have Phil's share; he belongs to the temperance society, and never splices the main brace," laughed the mate, as though he thought himself inexpressibly funny.
"Don't let him pull wool over your eyes, Jack," I whispered, turning my back to the mate.
"Thank your honor, kindly," continued Sanderson, whose heart seemed to be won by the rum.
"I know how to warm the heart of an old sailor," added Waterford, glancing at his companions on the quarter-deck.
"If you please, sir, some of the men think the bark is going a slaving," persisted Jack. ”

“ They rode several miles in that fashion—Owen keeping his horse slightly behind Sanderson's, his gaze on the other's face, his own white with remorse and anxiety.
At last he heard Sanderson laugh, and the sound of it made him grit his teeth in impotent agony.
"Sanderson," he said, gulping, "I'm sorry."
"Sure," returned the other. "If I hadn't wised up to that quite a spell ago, you'd be back on the trail, waitin' for some coyote to come along an' get his supper."
They rode in silence for a long time. They came to the gentle slope of the basin and began to climb it. ”

“ Sanderson was a scoffer of [Pg 83] the most captivating and dangerous type can not be denied. She loved to ridicule uninteresting things and commonplace people; and doubtless this fact accounted for the dearth of friends answering to her own age. It was to unthinking youth that the flashing sarcasms and stinging flings at established usages and sacred traditions appeared the embodiment of brilliant repartee. In complete contradiction to her caustic beliefs, she seemed to the young the soul of sincerity, working ever the most unselfish conditions for their enjoyment. ”

“ A big man, incensed at his inability to silence Sanderson, and wounded in the shoulder, suddenly left the shelter of his rock and charged across the steep face of the slope toward the fissure.
This man was brave, despite his associations, but he was a Dale man, and deserved no mercy. Sanderson granted him none. Halfway of the distance between his rock and the fissure he charged before Sanderson shot him. The man fell soundlessly, turning over and over in his descent to the bottom of the defile. ”

“ You don't look much like your father."
"Nor I don't act like him, either," smiled Sanderson. "For instance," he went on at the banker's quick look, "dad was slow; he wasn't alive to his opportunities. How long has it been since the railroad came to Okar?"
"Five years."
"Then dad was five years slower than he ought to have been. He ought to have seen what water would do to the basin. He didn't—left that for me."
"Meaning what?" asked Maison, as Sanderson paused.
"Meanin' that I want to turn the Double A water into the basin. That's what I came here to see you for. ”

“ She had conquered that constraint which had resulted from the revelation of Sanderson's identity, and had asked him to ride to the top of the gorge, telling him she wanted him to explain the proposed system of irrigation.
"It is desperately hard to get any information out of Williams," she told Sanderson; "he simply won't talk about the work."
"Meanin' that he'll talk rapid enough about other things, eh?" Sanderson returned. He looked slyly at Mary.
"What other things are there for him to talk about?"
"A man could find a heap of things to talk about—to a woman. ”

“ Sanderson. “That’s true, and I’m afraid it’s cheeky in me to ask you to take me, but I feel sort of drawn to you both, particularly to my young countryman, Bernard.”
“Say no more, Mr. Sanderson. We’ll take you with us as far as Capua, at any rate. There, as it is a large and well known place, you will have no difficulty in making other arrangements.”
“Thank you, squire. You’re a gentleman. You’ll find Amos Sanderson a true friend, that’ll stand by you through thick and thin. If we are attacked by bandits, he won’t run away and leave you in the lurch.” ”

“ SANDERSON OF BACK MEADOWS Back Meadows lies three miles to the northwest of Hagar, rich bottom-lands in Sanderson Hollow, and the Cattle Ridge shelters it on the north. Five generations of Sandersons have added to the Sanderson accumulation of this world's goods, without sensible interference on the part of moths or rust or thieves that break through and steal. Cool, quiet men, slow of speech and persistent of mood, they prospered and lived well where other families, desiring too many things or not desiring anything enough, found nothing at all desirable and drifted away. ”

“ You uphold the honor of a calling which is founded upon Art. And, oh, most of all, you have not lost your power, you have not outlived your time! Sanderson intimated that you were a dead one—very well, to-morrow you shall triumphantly cut the acquaintance of Sanderson! ”

“ Since the only thing that differentiated her husband from the mob was the money for which she had married him, Sanderson's relations with that particular family terminated on the spot, chance of prospective orders with it. His sensitiveness, perhaps, was morbid. At any rate the way to reach his heart lay through his trees. He might be said to love trees. He certainly drew a splendid inspiration from them, and the source of a man's inspiration, be it music, religion, or a woman, is never a safe thing to criticize. ”

“ Miss Sanderson, blushing a little from acute surprise, said that nothing would give her greater pleasure. She was amazed, she wanted to laugh, but the intense, almost truculent earnestness of the young man had put an enchantment upon her.
But all this was simply a prelude to the great drama [Pg 16] of the emotions which Constable Maclean had now to unfold. He had broken the ice with the charmer. The butterfly was pinned down with “Urban Love, a trilogy,” through its breast. Miss Sanderson had never had time for reading, therefore she was in nowise literary. ”