Bob delivered his relinquishment at headquarters, and received the news.
George Pollock had been arrested for the murder of Plant, and now lay in
jail. Erbe, the White Oaks lawyer, had undertaken charge of his case.
The evidence was as yet purely circumstantial. Erbe had naturally given
out no intimation of what his defence would be.
Then, within a week, events began to stir in Durham County. Samuels
wrote a rather violent letter announcing his change of mind in regard to
the relinquishment. To this a formal answer of regret was sent, together
with an intimation that the matter was now irrevocable. Somebody sent a
copy of the local paper containing a vituperative interview with the old
mountaineer. This was followed by other copies in which other citizens
contributed letters of expostulation and indignation. The matter was
commented on ponderously in a typical country editorial containing such
phrases as "clothed in a little brief authority," "arrogant minions of
the law," and so forth. Tom Carroll, riding through Durham on business,
was treated to ugly looks and uglier words. Ross Fletcher, visiting the
county seat, escaped a physical encounter with belligerent members of an
inflamed populace only by the exercise of the utmost coolness and good
nature. Samuels moved further by petitioning to the proper authorities
for the setting aside of the relinquishment and the reopening of the
whole case, on the ground that his signature had been obtained by
"coercion and undue influence." On the heels of this a mass meeting in
Durham was called and largely attended, at which a number of speakers
uttered very inflammatory doctrines. It culminated in resolutions of
protest against Thorne personally, against his rangers, and his policy,
alleging that one and all acted "arbitrarily, arrogantly, unjustly and
oppressively in the abuse of their rights and duties." Finally, as a
crowning absurdity, the grand jury, at its annual session, overstepping
in its zeal the limits of its powers, returned findings against "one
Ashley Thorne and Robert Orde, in the pay of the United States
Government, for arbitrary exceeding of their rights and authorities; for
illegal interference with the rights of citizens; for oppression," and
so on through a round dozen vague counts.
"I had no idea this Samuels case interested them quite so much up there;
nor did I imagine it possible they would raise such a row over that old
long-horn. I haven't been up in that country as much as I should have
liked, but I did not suspect they were so hostile to the Service."
"They always have been," commented California John.
"All this loud mouthing doesn't mean much," said Thorne, "though of
course we'll have to undergo an investigation. Their charges don't mean
anything. Old Samuels must be a good deal of a demagogue."
"He's got a good lawyer," stated California John briefly.
"Erbe? Are you sure of that? Why, the man is a big man; he's generally a
cut or so above cases of this sort--with as little foundation for them.
He's more in the line of fat fees. Here's two mountain cases he's
undertaken."
"I never knew Johnny Erbe to refuse any sort of case he'd get paid for,"
observed California John.
"Well, he's certainly raising a dust up north," said Thorne. "Every
paper all at once is full of the most incendiary stuff. I hate to send a
ranger up there these days."
"I reckon the boys can take care of themselves!" put in Ross Fletcher.
"Sure thing, Ross," he drawled, "and a first-class row between a brutal
ranger--who could take care of himself--and an inoffensive citizen would
read fine in print."
"That's the idea," approved Thorne. "We can't afford a row right now. It
would bring matters to a head."
"There's the Harris case, and the others," suggested Amy; "what are you
going to do about them, now?"
"Carry them through according to my instructions, unless I get orders to
the contrary," said Thorne. "It is the policy of the Service throughout
to clear up and settle these doubtful land cases. We must get such
things decided. We can't stop because of a little localized popular
clamour."
"Are there many such cases up in the Durham country?" asked Bob.
"Isn't it likely that those men have got behind Samuels in order to
discourage action on their own cases?"
"I think there's no doubt of it," answered Thorne, "but the point is,
they've been fighting tooth and nail from the start. We had felt out
their strength from the first, and it developed nothing like this."
"It don't amount to nothin'," said California John. "In the first place,
it's only the 'nesters,' [A] the saloon crowd, who are after you for
Austin's case; and the usual muck of old-timers and loafers who either
think they own the country and ought to have a free hand in everything
just as they're used to, or who are agin the Government on general
principles. I don't believe the people at Durham are behind this. I bet
a vote would give us a majority right now."
"Well, the majority stays in the house, then," observed Ross Fletcher
drily. "I didn't observe none of them when I walked down the street."
"I believe with John," said Thorne. "This crowd makes an awful noise,
but it doesn't mean much. The Office cannot fail to uphold us. There's
nobody of any influence or importance behind all this."
Nevertheless, so skilfully was the campaign conducted, pressure soon
made itself felt from above. The usual memorials and largely-signed
protests were drawn up and presented to the senators from California,
and the representatives of that and neighbouring districts. Men in the
employ of the saloon element rode actively in all directions obtaining
signatures. A signature to anything that does not carry financial
obligation is the easiest thing in the world to get. Hundreds who had no
grievance, and who listened with the facile indignation of the ignorant
to the representations of these emissaries, subscribed their names as
voters and constituents to a cause whose merits or demerits were quite
uncomprehended by them. The members of Congress receiving these
memorials immediately set themselves in motion. As Thorne could not
officially reply to what had not as yet been officially urged, his hands
were tied. A clamour that had at first been merely noisy and
meaningless, began now to gain an effect.
"If it isn't a case of a snowball growing bigger the farther it rolls, I
can't account for it," said he. "This thing ought to have died down long
ago. It's been fomented very skilfully. Such a campaign as this one
against us takes both ability and money--more of either than I thought
Samuels could possibly possess."
In the meantime, Erbe managed rapidly to tie up the legal aspects of the
situation. The case, as it developed, proved to be open-and-shut against
his client, but apparently unaffected by the certainty of this, he
persisted in the interposition of all sorts of delays. Samuels continued
to live undisturbed on his claim, which, as Thorne pointed out, had a
bad moral effect on the community.
The issue soon took on a national aspect. It began to be commented on by
outside newspapers. Publications close to the administration and
thoroughly in sympathy with its forest policies, began gravely to doubt
the advisability of pushing these debatable claims at present.
"They are of small value," said one, "in comparison with the large
public domain of which they are part. At a time when the Forest Service
is new in the saddle and as yet subjected to the most violent attacks by
the special interests on the floors of Congress, it seems unwise to do
anything that might tend to arouse public opinion against it."
As though to give point to this, there now commenced in Congress that
virulent assault led by some of the Western senators, aimed at the very
life of the Service itself. Allegations of dishonesty, incompetence,
despotism; of depriving the public of its heritage; of the curtailments
of rights and liberties; of folly; of fraud were freely brought forward
and urged with impassioned eloquence. Arguments special to cattlemen, to
sheepmen, to lumbermen, to cordwood men, to pulp men, to power men were
emphasized by all sorts of misstatements, twisted statements, or special
appeals to greed, personal interest and individual policy. To support
their eloquence, senators supposedly respectable did not hesitate boldly
to utter sweeping falsehoods of fact. The Service was fighting for its
very life.
Nevertheless, persistently, the officials proceeded with their
investigations. Bob had conducted his campaign so skilfully against
Samuels that Thorne used him further in similar matters. Little by
little, indeed, the young man was withdrawn from other work. He now
spent many hours with Amy in the little office going over maps and
files, over copies of documents and old records. When he had thoroughly
mastered the ins and outs of a case, he departed with his pack animal
and saddle horse to look the ground over in person.
Since the eclat of the Samuels case, he had little hope of obtaining
relinquishments, nor did he greatly care to do so. A relinquishment
saved trouble in the courts, but as far as avoiding adverse public
notice went, the Samuels affair showed the absolute ineffectiveness of
that method. But by going on the ground he was enabled to see, with his
own eyes, just what sort of a claim was in question, the improvements
that had been made on it, the value both to the claimant and the
Government. Through an interview he was able to gauge the claimant, to
weigh his probable motives and the purity of both his original and
present intentions. A number of cases thus he dropped, and that on no
other than his own responsibility. They were invariably those whose
issue in the courts might very well be in doubt, so that it was
impossible to tell, without trying them, how the decision would jump.
Furthermore, and principally, he was always satisfied that the claimant
had meant well and honestly throughout, and had lapsed through
ignorance, bad advice, or merely that carelessness of the letter of the
legal form so common among mountaineers. Such cases were far more
numerous than he had supposed. The men had, in many instances, come into
the country early in its development. They had built their cabins by the
nearest meadow that appealed to them; for, to all intents and purposes,
the country was a virgin wilderness whose camping sites were many and
open to the first comer. Only after their households had been long
established as squatters did these pioneers awake to an imperfect
understanding that further formality was required before these, their
homes, could be legally their own. Living isolated these men, even then,
blundered in their applications or in the proving up of their claims.
Such might be legally subject to eviction, but Bob in his
recommendations gave them the benefit of the doubt and advised that full
papers be issued. In the hurried days of the Service such
recommendations of field inspectors were often considered as final.
There were other cases, however, for which Bob's sympathies were
strongly enlisted, but which presented such flagrant irregularities of
procedure that he could not consistently recommend anything but a court
test of the rights involved. To this he added a personal note, going
completely into details, and suggesting a way out.
And finally, as a third class, he was able, as in Samuels's case, to
declare war on behalf of the Government. Men who had already taken up
all the timber claims to which they or their families were legally
entitled, nevertheless added an alleged homestead to the lot. Other men
were taking advantage of twists and interpretations of the law to gain
possession of desirable tracts of land still included in the National
Forests. These men knew the letter of the law well enough, and took
pains to conform accurately to it. Their lapses were of intention. The
excuses were many--so-called mineral claims, alleged agricultural land,
all the exceptions to reservation mentioned in the law; the actual ends
aimed at were two--water rights or timber. In these cases Bob reported
uncompromisingly against the granting of the final papers. Thousands of
acres, however, had been already conveyed. Over these, naturally, he had
no jurisdiction, but he kept his eyes open, and accumulated evidence
which might some day prove useful in event of a serious effort to regain
those lands that had been acquired by provable fraud.
But on the borderland between these sharply defined classes lay many in
the twilight zone. Bob, without knowing it, was to a certain extent
exercising a despotic power. He possessed a latitude of choice as to
which of these involved land cases should be pushed to a court decision.
If the law were to be strictly and literally interpreted, there could be
no doubt but that each and every one of these numerous claimants could
be haled to court to answer for his short-comings. But that, in many
instances, could not but work an unwarranted hardship. The expenses
alone, of a journey to the state capital, would strain to the breaking
point the means of some of the more impecunious. Insisting on the
minutest technicalities would indubitably deprive many an honest,
well-meaning homesteader of his entire worldly property. It was all very
well to argue that ignorance of the law was no excuse; that it is a
man's own fault if he does not fulfill the simple requirements of taking
up public land. As a matter of cold fact, in such a situation as this,
ignorance is an excuse. Legalizing apart, the rigid and invariable
enforcement of the law can be tyrannical. Of course, this can never be
officially recognized; that would shake the foundations. But it is not
to be denied that the literal and universal and invariable enforcement
of the minute letter of any law, no matter how trivial, for the space of
three months would bring about a mild revolution. As witness the
sweeping and startling effects always consequent on an order from
headquarters to its police to "enforce rigidly"--for a time--some
particular city ordinance. Whether this is a fault of our system of law,
or a defect inherent in the absolute logic of human affairs, is a matter
for philosophy to determine. Be that as it may, the powers that enforce
law often find themselves on the horns of a dilemma. They must take
their choice between tyranny and despotism.
So, in a mild way, Bob had become a despot. That is to say, he had to
decide to whom a broken law was to apply, and to whom not, and this
without being given any touchstone of choice. The matter rested with his
own experience, knowledge and personal judgment. Fortunately he was a
beneficent despot. A man evilly disposed, like Plant, could have worked
incalculable harm for others and great financial benefit to himself.
That this is not only possible but inevitable is another defect of law
or system. No sane man for one single instant believes that literal
enforcement of every law at all times is either possible or desirable.
No sane man for one single instant believes that the law can be excepted
to or annulled for especial occasions without undermining the public
confidence and public morals. Yet where is the middle ground?
In Bob's capacity as beneficent despot, he ran against many problems
that taxed his powers. It was easy to say that Samuels, having full
intention to get what he very well knew he had no right to have, and for
acquiring which he had no excuse save that others were allowed to do
likewise, should be proceeded against vigorously. It was likewise easy
to determine that Ward, who had lived on his mountain farm, and
cultivated what he could, and had himself made shakes of his timber, but
who had blundered his formal processes, should be given a chance to make
good. But what of the doubtful cases? What of the cases wherein
apparently legality and equity took opposite sides?
Bob had adventures in plenty. For lack of a better system, he started at
the north end and worked steadily south, examining with patience the
pedigree of each and every private holding within the confines of the
National Forests. These were at first small and isolated. Only one large
tract drew his attention, that belonging to old Simeon Wright in the big
meadows under Black Peaks. These meadows, occupying a wide plateau grown
sparsely with lodgepole pine, covered perhaps a thousand acres of good
grazing, and were held legally, but without the shadow of equity, by the
old land pirate who owned so much of California. In going over both the
original records, the newer geological survey maps, and the country
itself, Bob came upon a discrepancy. He asked and obtained leave for a
resurvey. This determined that Wright's early-day surveyor had made a
mistake--no extraordinary matter in a wild country so remote from base
lines. Simeon's holdings were actually just one mile farther north,
which brought them to the top of a bald granite ridge. His title to this
was indubitable; but the broad and valuable meadows belonged still to
the Government. As the case was one of fact merely, Wright had no
opportunity to contest, or to exercise his undoubtedly powerful
influence. The affair served, however, to draw Bob's name and activities
into the sphere of his notice.
Among the mountain people Bob was at first held in a distrust that
sometimes became open hostility. He received threats and warnings
innumerable. The Childs boys sent word to him, and spread that word
abroad, that if this government inspector valued his life he would do
well to keep off Iron Mountain. Bob promptly saddled his horse, rode
boldly to the Childs' shake camp, took lunch with them, and rode back,
speaking no word either of business or of threats. Having occasion to
take a meal with some poor, squalid descendants of hog-raising Pike
County Missourians, he detected a queer bitterness to his coffee,
managed unseen to empty the cup into his canteen, and later found, as he
had suspected, that an attempt had been made to poison him. He rode back
at once to the cabin. Instead of taxing the woman with the deed--for he
shrewdly suspected the man knew nothing of it--he reproached her with
condemning him unheard.
"I'm the best friend you people have," said he. "It isn't my fault that
you are in trouble with the regulations. The Government must straighten
these matters out. Don't think for a minute that the work will stop just
because somebody gets away with me. They'll send somebody else. And the
chances are, in that case, they'll send somebody who is instructed to
stick close to the letter of the law: and who will turn you out mighty
sudden. I'm trying to do the best I can for you people."
This family ended by giving him its full confidence in the matter. Bob
was able to save the place for them.
Gradually his refusal to take offence, his refusal to debate any matter
save on the impersonal grounds of the Government servant acting solely
for his masters, coupled with his willingness to take things into
consideration, and his desire to be absolutely fair, won for Bob a
reluctant confidence. At the north end men's minds were as yet too
inflamed. It is a curious matter of flock psychology that if the public
mind ever occupies itself fully with an idea, it thereby becomes for the
time being blind, impervious, to all others. But in other parts of the
mountains Bob was not wholly unwelcome; and in one or two cases--which
pleased him mightily--men came in to him voluntarily for the purpose of
asking his advice.
In the meantime the Samuels case had come rapidly to a crisis. The
resounding agitation had resulted in the sending of inspectors to
investigate the charges against the local officials. The first of these
inspectors, a rather precise and formal youth fresh from Eastern
training, was easily handled by the versatile Erbe. His report,
voluminous as a tariff speech, and couched in very official language,
exonerated Thorne and Orde of dishonesty, of course, but it emphasized
their "lack of tact and business ability," and condemned strongly their
attitude in the Durham matter. This report would ordinarily have gone no
farther than the district office, where it might have been acted on by
the officers in charge to the great detriment of the Service. At that
time the evil of sending out as inspectors men admirably trained in
theory but woefully lacking in practice and the knowledge of Western
humankind was one of the great menaces to effective personnel.
Fortunately this particular report came into the hands of the Chief, who
happened to be touring in the West. A fuller investigation exposed to
the sapient experience of that able man the gullibility of the
inspector. From the district a brief statement was issued upholding the
local administration.
The agitation, thus deprived of its chief hope, might very well have
been expected to simmer down, to die away slowly. As a matter of fact,
it collapsed. The newspaper attacks ceased; the public meetings were
discontinued; the saloons and other storm centres applied their powers
to a discussion of the Gans-Nelson fight. Samuels was very briefly
declared a trespasser by the courts. Erbe disappeared from the case.
The United States Marshal, riding up with a posse into a supposedly
hostile country, found no opposition to his enforcement of the court's
decree. Only old Samuels himself offered an undaunted defence, but was
soon dislodged and led away by men who half-pitied, half-ridiculed his
violence. The sign "Property of the U.S." resumed its place. Thorne made
of the ancient homestead a ranger's post.
"It's incomprehensible as a genuine popular movement," said he on one of
Bob's periodical returns to headquarters. The young man now held a
commission, and lived with the Thornes when at home. "The opposition up
there was so rabid and it wilted too suddenly."
"It's as though they'd pricked a balloon," said he. "They don't love us
up there, yet; but it's no worse now than it used to be here. Last week
it was actually unsafe on the streets. If they were so strong for
Samuels then, why not now? A mere court decision could not change their
minds so quickly. I should have expected the real bitterness and the
real resistence when the Marshal went up to put the old man off."
"It's as if somebody had turned off the steam and the engine quit
running," said Thorne, "and for that reason I'm more than ever convinced
that it was a made agitation. Samuels was only an excuse."
"Struck me the same way," put in California John. "Reminded me of the
war. Looked like they held onto this as a sort of first defence as long
as they could, and then just abandoned it and dropped back."
"That's it," nodded Thorne. "That's my conclusion. Somebody bigger than
Samuels fears investigation; and they hoped to stop our sort of
investigation short at Samuels. Well, they haven't succeeded."
"That ought to be easily determined," she cried, looking over her
shoulder with shining eyes. "I have the papers about all ready for the
whole of our Forest. Here's a list of the private holdings, by whom
held, how acquired and when." She spread the papers out on the table.
"Now let's see who owns lots of land, and who is powerful enough to
enlist senators, and who would fear investigation."
All four bent over the list for a few moments. Then Thorne made five
dots with his pencil opposite as many names.
"All the rest are little homesteaders," said he. "One of these must be
our villain."