Buccaneer Farmer
206 pages
English

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206 pages
English

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Description

A pair of families that reside in close proximity to one another in the English countryside may diverge in their values and beliefs, but they wind up forming a close alliance against all odds. The Askews are humble but ambitious farmers, while the Osborns are once-genteel folks who seem determined to squander what's left of their family fortune. What could possibly bring them together?

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Publié par
Date de parution 01 décembre 2015
Nombre de lectures 0
EAN13 9781776596454
Langue English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0134€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

THE BUCCANEER FARMER
* * *
HAROLD BINDLOSS
 
*
The Buccaneer Farmer First published in 1918 Epub ISBN 978-1-77659-645-4 Also available: PDF ISBN 978-1-77659-646-1 © 2014 The Floating Press and its licensors. All rights reserved. While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike. Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
Contents
*
PART I - AT ASHNESS Chapter I - The Lease Chapter II - The Otter Hounds Chapter III - A Council of Defence Chapter IV - The Peat Cutters Chapter V - Railton's Tally Chapter VI - Bleatarn Ghyll Chapter VII - The Reckoning Chapter VIII - Grace Finds a Way Chapter IX - The Plan Works Chapter X - Janet Meddles Chapter XI - Osborn's Pride Gets Hurt Chapter XII - Osborn Interferes PART II - ON THE CARIBBEAN Chapter I - The Old Buccaneer Chapter II - The Presidio Chapter III - The Gold Onza Chapter IV - The President's Ball Chapter V - Olsen's Offer Chapter VI - The President's Watchers Chapter VII - Adam Resumes Control Chapter VII - The Mangrove Swamp Chapter IX - Adam's Last Request Chapter X - The Road to the Mission Chapter XI - Kit Keeps His Promise Chapter XII - The Last Cargo PART III - KIT'S RETURN Chapter I - Kit's Welcome Chapter II - A Dangerous Talent Chapter III - The Horse Show Chapter IV - The Flood Chapter V - Kit Tells a Story Chapter VI - Thorn Makes a Plan Chapter VII - Gerald's Return Chapter VIII - Grace's Confidence Chapter IX - Kit Goes to the Rescue Chapter X - Grace's Choice Chapter XI - Osborn's Surrender
PART I - AT ASHNESS
*
Chapter I - The Lease
*
The morning was bright after heavy rain, and when Osborn looked out ofthe library window a warm, south-west breeze shook the larches aboutTarnside Hall. Now and then a shadow sped across the tarn, darkening theripples that sparkled like silver when the cloud drove on. Osbornfrowned, for he had meant to go fishing and it was a morning when thebig, shy trout would rise. His game-keeper was waiting at the boathouse,but the postman had brought some letters that made him put off his sport.
This was annoying, because Osborn hated to be balked and seldom allowedanything to interfere with his amusements. One letter, from a housemasterat a famous public school, covered a number of bills, which, the writerstated somewhat curtly, ought to have been paid. Another announced thatHayes, the agent for the estate, and a tenant would wait upon Osborn, whoknew what they meant to talk about. He admitted that a landlord hadduties, but his generally demanded attention at an inconvenient time.
Osborn was fifty years of age. He had a ruddy skin and well-proportionedfigure, and was, physically, a rather fine example of the sportingcountry gentleman. For all that, there were lines on his forehead andwrinkles about his eyes; his mouth was loose and sensual, and somethingabout him hinted at indulgence. His manner, as a rule, was abrupt andoften overbearing.
The library was spacious, the furniture in good taste but getting shabby.In fact, a certain look of age and shabbiness was typical of the house.Although the windows were open, the room had a damp smell, and the rowsof books that Osborn never read were touched with mildew. Rain wasplentiful in the north-country dale, coal was dear, and Mrs. Osborn wasforced to study economy, partly because her husband would not.
By and by Osborn turned his glance from the window and fixed it on hisson, who stood waiting across the big oak table. Gerald was a handsomelad, like his father, but marked by a certain refinement and a hint ofdelicacy. Although he felt anxious, his pose was free and graceful andhis look undisturbed. Osborn threw the bills on the table.
"This kind of thing must stop," he said. "I haven't grumbled much,perhaps not as much as I ought, about your extravagance, but only a foolimagines he can spend more than he has got."
"We have had such fools in our family," the boy remarked, and stoppedwhen he saw Osborn's color rise.
"It's a pity it's true," the latter agreed, with a patience he did notoften use. "I'm paying for it now and you will pay a higher price, if yougo on as you promise. You must pull up; I've done enough and am gettingtired of self-denial."
Gerald's smile faded. He had inherited his extravagance from his father,but felt he must be cautious, although Osborn sometimes showed him aforbearance he used to nobody else.
"I'm sorry, sir," he said. "Perhaps I was extravagant, but if you don'twant to be an outsider, you must do like the rest, and I understood youexpected me to make friends among our own set. We can't be shabby."
He struck the right note, for Osborn was not clever and perhaps hisstrongest characteristic was his exaggerated family pride.
"You had enough and I paid your debts not long since," he said. "In fact,you have had more than your share, with the consequence that Grace getsless than hers." He knitted his brows as he indicated the house-master'scurt letter. "Then, you have given a stranger an opportunity for writingto me like this."
Gerald, knowing his father's humor, saw he was getting ondangerous ground.
"Brown's a dry old prig, sir. Nothing sporting about him; he's hardly agentleman."
Osborn was seldom logical and now his annoyance was rather concentratedon the master who had written to him with jarring frankness than on theextravagant lad.
"His letter implies it," he agreed and then pulled himself up. Gerald wasclever and no doubt meant to divert his thoughts. "After all, thisdoesn't matter," he went on. "I'll pay these bills, but if you get intodebt at Woolwich, you had better not come home. I have enough troubleabout money, and your allowance is going to be a strain. There's anotherthing: Carter, who hasn't had your advantages, got in as a prize cadet."
Gerald smiled. "He hasn't got his commission. Old Harry means well, buthe's not our sort, and these plodding, cramming fellows seldom make goodofficers."
"An officer must pay his mess bills, whether he's good or bad," Osbornrejoined. "If you go into the Horse Artillery, there won't be much moneyleft when you have settled yours, so it might be prudent to begin someself-denial now. Anyhow, if you get into debt again, you know theconsequences."
He raised his hand in dismissal and walked to the window when the ladwent out. He had not taken the line he meant to take, but Geraldoften, so to speak, eluded him. The lad had a way of hinting that theyunderstood one another and Osborn vaguely suspected that he workedupon his prejudices; but he was a sportsman. He had pluck and knewwhat the Osborn traditions demanded. In fact, Gerald might go far, ifhe went straight.
Then Osborn thought he needed a drink, and after ringing a bell he satdown by the window with the tray and glass a servant brought. It wassignificant that he had given no order; the servants knew what the bellmeant. When he had drained the glass he vacantly looked out. Boggypasture and stony cornfields ran back from the tarn. Here and there awhite farmstead, surrounded by stunted trees, stood at the hill foot;farther back a waterfall seamed the rocks and yellow grass with threadsof foam; and then a lofty moor, red with heather, shut off the view.
The land was poor at the dale head, but there was better below, where thehills dropped down to the flat country, and, with the exception ofAshness farm, all was Osborn's, from Force Crag, where the beck plungedfrom the moor, to the rich bottoms round Allerby mill. Unfortunately, theestate was encumbered when he inherited it, and he had paid off onemortgage by raising another. He might perhaps have used other means,letting his sporting rights and using economy, but this would havejarred. The only Osborn who bothered about money was his wife, and Alicewas parsimonious enough for both. Money was certainly what his agentcalled tight; but as long as he could give his friends some shooting anda good dinner and live as an Osborn ought to live, he was satisfied.Still, Gerald must have his chance at Woolwich and this needed thought.Osborn felt he would like another drink, but glanced at his watch and sawthat his visitors would arrive in a few minutes.
They were punctual and Osborn got up when his agent and another man camein. Hayes was tall, urbane, and dressed with rather fastidious neatness;Bell was round-shouldered and shabby. He had a weather-beaten skin, grayhair, and small, cunning eyes. Osborn indicated chairs and sat down atthe top of the big table. He disliked business and knew the others meantto persuade him to do something he would sooner leave alone. This wouldhave been impossible had he not needed money.
"Mr. Bell wishes to know if his tender for the Slate Company's haulageis approved," Hayes began. "His traction engine is suited for the workand he is prepared to buy a trailer lurry, which we would find usefulin the dale. Mechanical transport would be a public advantage on ourhilly roads."
"It needs a good horse to bring half a load from station," Bellinterposed. "T'lurry would move as much in yan day as farmers'carts in four."
Osborn agreed. He was not much of an economist, but it was obvious thattime and labor were wasted when a farmer took a few sacks of potatoes tothe railway and another a sack of wool. There was no difficulty about thetender, because Osborn was chairman of the small Slate Company; thetrouble was that the contract would help Bell to carry out another plan.The fellow was greedy, and was getting a rather dangerous control; he hadalready a lease of the limekilns and Allerby mill. But his rents wereregularly paid, and it was an advan

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