The Mistress of Bonaventure by Harold Bindloss

Winter passed very monotonously with us in the sod-house at Crane Valley. When the season's work is over and the prairie bound fast by iron frost, the man whom it has prospered spends his well-earned leisure visiting his neighbors or lounging contentedly beside the stove; but those oppressed by anxieties find the compulsory idleness irksome, and I counted the days until we could commence again in the spring. The goodwill of my neighbors made this possible, for one promised seed-wheat, to be paid for when harvest was gathered in; another placed surplus stock under my charge on an agreement to share the resultant profit, while Haldane sent a large draft of young horses and cattle he had hardly hands enough to care for, under a similar arrangement.

I accepted these offers the more readily because, while prompted by kindness, the advantages were tolerably equal to all concerned. So the future looked slightly brighter, and I hoped that better times would come, if we could hold out sufficiently long. The debt I still owed Lane, however, hung as a menace over me, while although -- doubtless because it suited him -- he did not press me for payment, the extortionate interest was adding to it constantly. Some of my neighbors were in similar circumstances, and at times we conferred together as to the best means of mutual protection.