“I’m afraid that admonition hasn’t had much effect, and I agree with Mr. Grant that the Sachem is a gathering place for doubtful characters,” Hardie went on.  “What’s worse, I’ve reasons for supposing that Beamish gets some of them to help him in supplying the Indians on the reservation with liquor.”

This was a serious offense, and there was a pause, during which Edgar glanced meaningly at George.  Then he made a pertinent remark.

“Four churches to two saloons is pretty long odds.  Why do you think it needful to call in the farmers?”

Hardie looked troubled, but he showed that he was honest.

“The churches are thinly attended; I’m the only resident clergyman, and I’m sorry I must confess that some of our people are indifferent:  reluctant, or perhaps half afraid, to interfere.  They want a clear lead; if we could get a big determined meeting it might decide the waverers.”

“Then you’re not sure of winning?” asked Grant.

“No,” replied Hardie.  “There’ll be strong and well-managed opposition; in fact, we have nearly everything against us.  I’ve been urged to wait, but the evil’s increasing; those against us are growing stronger.”

“If you lose, you and your friends will find the Butte pretty hot.  But you feel you have a chance, a fighting chance, and you mean to take it?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’m with you,"’ Grant declared with a grim smile.  “Don’t mistake me:  I take my glass of lager when I feel like it—­there’s some right here in the house—­but, if it’s needful, I can do without.  I’m not going into this thing to help you in preaching to whisky-tanks and toughs—­it’s the law I’m standing for.  If what you suspect is going on, we’ll soon have our colts rebranded and our calves missing.  We have got to clean out Beamish’s crowd.”

“Thanks,” said Hardie, with keen satisfaction.

He turned to George.

“I’d be glad of your support, Mr. Lansing.”

George sat silent a moment or two while Flora watched him.  Then he said quietly: 

“My position’s much the same as Mr. Grant’s—­I can do without.  After what you have said about the Sachem, I’ll join you.”

“And you?” Hardie asked Edgar.

The lad laughed.

“I follow my leader.  The loungers about the Sachem weren’t civil to me; said unpleasant things about my appearance and my English clothes.  To help to make them abstainers strikes me as a happy thought.”

Flora glanced at him in amused reproof, and Hardie turned to Grant.

“What about your hired men?”

“Count them in; they go with me.  If you have brought any memorial along, I’ll see they sign it.”

“I wish all our supporters had your determination,” Mrs. Nelson remarked approvingly.

Hardie ventured a protest.

“I don’t want any pressure put upon them, Mr. Grant.”

“Pressure?” queried the farmer.  “I’ll just ask them to sign.”