The Buccaneer Farmer 
 
The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Buccaneer Farmer, by Harold 
Bindloss This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and 
with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away 
or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included 
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net 
Title: The Buccaneer Farmer Published In England Under The Title 
"Askew's Victory" 
Author: Harold Bindloss 
Release Date: February 4, 2004 [EBook #10930] 
Language: English 
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE 
BUCCANEER FARMER *** 
 
Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Beginners Projects, Mary Meehan, and 
the Online Distributed Proofreading Team 
 
THE BUCCANEER FARMER 
BY HAROLD BINDLOSS 
1918 
PUBLISHED IN ENGLAND UNDER THE TITLE "ASKEW'S 
VICTORY" 
 
CONTENTS
PART I--AT ASHNESS 
 
CHAPTER 
I THE LEASE 
II THE OTTER HOUNDS 
III A COUNCIL OF DEFENSE 
IV THE PEAT CUTTERS 
V RAILTON'S TALLY 
VI BLEATARN GHYLL 
VII THE RECKONING 
VIII GRACE FINDS A WAY 
IX THE PLAN WORKS 
X JANET MEDDLES 
XI OSBORN'S PRIDE GETS HURT 
XII OSBORN INTERFERES 
 
PART II--ON THE CARIBBEAN 
I THE OLD BUCCANEER 
II THE PRESIDIO
III THE GOLD ONZA 
IV THE PRESIDENT'S BALL 
V OLSEN'S OFFER 
VI THE PRESIDENT'S WATCHERS 
VII ADAM RESUMES CONTROL 
VIII THE MANGROVE SWAMP 
IX ADAM'S LAST REQUEST 
X THE ROAD TO THE MISSION 
XI KIT KEEPS HIS PROMISE 
XII THE LAST CARGO 
 
PART III--KIT'S RETURN 
I KIT'S WELCOME 
II A DANGEROUS TALENT 
III THE HORSE SHOW 
IV THE FLOOD 
V KIT TELLS A STORY 
VI THORN MAKES A PLAN 
VII GERALD'S RETURN 
VIII GRACE'S CONFIDENCE
IX KIT GOES TO THE RESCUE 
X GRACE'S CHOICE 
XI OSBORN'S SURRENDER 
 
PART I--AT ASHNESS 
 
CHAPTER I 
THE LEASE 
The morning was bright after heavy rain, and when Osborn looked out 
of the library window a warm, south-west breeze shook the larches 
about Tarnside Hall. Now and then a shadow sped across the tarn, 
darkening the ripples that sparkled like silver when the cloud drove on. 
Osborn frowned, for he had meant to go fishing and it was a morning 
when the big, 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 
allowed anything to interfere with his amusements. One letter, from a 
housemaster at a famous public school, covered a number of bills, 
which, the writer stated somewhat curtly, ought to have been paid. 
Another announced that Hayes, the agent for the estate, and a tenant 
would wait upon Osborn, who knew what they meant to talk about. He 
admitted that a landlord had duties, but his generally demanded 
attention at an inconvenient time. 
Osborn was fifty years of age. He had a ruddy skin and 
well-proportioned figure, and was, physically, a rather fine example of 
the sporting country gentleman. For all that, there were lines on his 
forehead and wrinkles about his eyes; his mouth was loose and sensual,
and something about him hinted at indulgence. His manner, as a rule, 
was abrupt and often 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 
rows of books that Osborn never read were touched with mildew. Rain 
was plentiful in the north-country dale, coal was dear, and Mrs. Osborn 
was forced to study economy, partly because her husband would not. 
By and by Osborn turned his glance from the window and fixed it on 
his son, who stood waiting across the big oak table. Gerald was a 
handsome lad, like his father, but marked by a certain refinement and a 
hint of delicacy. Although he felt anxious, his pose was free and 
graceful and his 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 
fool imagines he can spend more than he has got." 
"We have had such fools in our family," the boy remarked, and stopped 
when he saw Osborn's color rise. 
"It's a pity it's true," the latter agreed, with a patience he did not often 
use. "I'm paying for it now and you will pay a higher price, if you go on 
as you promise. You must pull up; I've done enough and am getting 
tired 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 a 
forbearance he used to nobody else. 
"I'm sorry, sir," he said. "Perhaps I was extravagant,    
    
		
	
	
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