WHEN JEAN BAPTISTE had found the papers
belonging to Barr, and had come to understand
that it had been Barr's intention to destroy the
same, natural curiosity had prompted him to read into and
examine what was in his possession.
But after having read them, and realizing fully to return
the same then, would be to have Barr know, at least feel,
that he was in possession of such a grave secret, would make
their, up to this time agreeable, relationship rather awkward,
he was at a loss as to what to do. So in the end he laid the
papers away, and waited. If Barr should make inquiries
for them, he would try to find some convenient way to re-
turn the same. But on after thought, he knew that Barr
would hardly start an inquiry about the matter even if
he did come to realize he had lost instead of destroyed the
papers.
A few days later he saw Peter Kaden in the village, and
this time observed him more closely than had been his wont
theretofore. Always sad, he so remained, and down in Bap-
tiste's heart he was sorry for the wretch. It was after he
had returned home and lingered at the fire that he heard a
light knock at the door. He called " Come in." The door
was opened and Augustus M. Barr stood in the doorway.
Baptiste was for a time slightly nervous. He was glad
then that it was dark within the room, otherwise Barr must
have seen him give a quick start.
"Ah-ha," began Barr, cheerfully, coming forward and
taking the chair Baptiste placed at his disposal. "Quite
comfortable in the little sod house on the claim."
"Quite comfortable," returned Baptiste evenly, his mind
upon the papers so near. He didn't trust himself to com-
ment. He waited for whatever was to happen.
"Suppose you are thinking about the big crop you will
seed in the springtime," ventured Barr.
"Yes," admitted Baptiste, for in truth, the same had been
on his mind before Barr put in his appearance. "Suppose
you will put out quite a crop yourself in the spring," he
ventured in return.
"Well, I don't know," said Barr thoughtfully. "I fear
I'm getting a little old to farm - and this baching!"
Baptiste thought about Christine who was not so far away
instead of in England. . . . He marveled at the man's calm
nerve. It did not seem possible that a man of this one's
broad education could be so low as to resort to fallacies.
"No," he heard Barr again. "I don't think that I shall
farm next summer. In fact I have about decided to make
proof on my claim, and that is what I have called on you
in regard to. I suppose I can count you as witness to the
fact?" Baptiste was relieved. Barr still thought he had
destroyed the papers. He was smiling when he replied:
"Indeed, I shall be glad to attest to the fact you refer
to."
"Thanks," Said Barr, and rose to go.
"No hurry."
"I must go into town on a matter of business," said Barr
from the doorway. "Well," he paused briefly and then
said, "I am applying for a date, and when that is settled I
shall let you know."
"Very well. Good day."
"Good day, my friend," and he went over the hill.
Baptiste was thoughtful when he was gone. He looked
after him and thought about the papers. He marveled again
at the man's calmness. . . . Then suddenly he arose as a
thought struck him, and going to his trunk, lifted from the
top the last issue of the Dallas Enterprise. He glanced
quickly through the columns and then his eyes rested on a
legal notice. He smiled.
"Old Peter is going to make proof. . . . So is Barr.
The eternal triangle begins to take shape. . . ." He got up
and went to the door. Over the hill he saw Barr just
entering the town. . . . "This is beginning to get interest-
ing. . . . But I don't like the Kaden end of it. ... I wish
I could do something. . . . Something to help Kaden. . . ."
Saturday was a beautiful day. To Gregory from miles
around went almost everybody. So along with the rest
went Jean Baptiste. He fostered certain hopes, had
ulterior purposes in view. Firstly, it was a nice day, the
town he knew would be filled; and secondly, he was subtly
interested in Kaden. He had seen by the paper that he was
advertised to make proof that day on his homestead. . . .
Another thing, whenever he thought of Kaden, he could
not keep Barr, and Syfe, and lastly, Christine, out of his
mind. . . .
He found the little town filled almost to overflowing
when he arrived. Teams were tied seemingly to every
available post. The narrow board walks were crowded, the
saloons were full, red liquor was doing its bit; while the
general stores were alive with girls, women and children.
A jovial day was ahead and old friendships were revived
and new ones made. There is about a new country an air
of hopefulness that is contagious. Here in this land had
come the best from everywhere: the best because they were
for the most part hopeful and courageous; that great army
of discontented persons that have been the forerunners of
the new world. Mingled in the crowd, Jean Baptiste re-
garded the unusual conglomeration of kinds. There were
Germans, from Germany, and there were Swedes from
Sweden, Danes from Denmark, Norwegians from Norway.
There were Poles, and Finns and Lithuanians and Russians;
there were French and a few English; but of his race he
was the only one.
As a whole the greater portion were from the northern
parts of the United States, and he was glad that they were.
With them there was no "Negro problem," and he was
glad there was not. The world was too busy to bother with
such: he was glad to know he could work unhampered. He
was looked at curiously by many. To the young, a man of
his skin was something rare, something new. He smiled
over it with equal amusement, and then in a store he walked
right into Agnes, the first time he had seen her since the
morning at the sod house. He was greatly surprised, and
rather flustrated, and was glad again his skin was dark.
She could not see the blood that went to his face; while
with her, it showed most furiously.
As the meeting was unexpected, all she had thought and
felt in the weeks since, came suddenly to the surface in her
expression. In spite of her effort at self control, her blush-
ing face evidenced her confusion upon seeing him again.
But with an effort, she managed to bow courteously, while
he was just as dignified. They would have pa**ed and
gone their ways had it not been that in that instant another,
a lady, a neighbor and friend of Baptiste's, came upon them.
She had become acquainted with Agnes that day, and was
very fond of Baptiste. Although her name was Reynolds,
she was a red blooded German, sociable, kind and obliging.
She had not observed that they had exchanged greetings
did not know, obviously, that the two were acquainted;
wherefore, her neighborly instincts became a**ertive.
Coming forward volubly, anxiously, she caught Baptiste
by the hand and shook it vigorously. " Mr. Baptiste, Mr.
Baptiste!" she cried, punctuating the hand shaking with her
voice full of joy, her red, healthy face beaming with smiles.
"How very glad I am to see you! You have not been to
see us for an age, and I have asked Tom where you were.
We feared you had gone off and done something serious,"
whereupon she winked mischievously. Baptiste understood
and smiled.
"You are certainly looking well for an old bachelor” she
commented, after releasing his hand and looking into his
face seriously, albeit amusedly, mischievously. "We were
at Dallas and got some of the coal you were brave enough
to bring from Bonesteel that awful cold day. My, Jean,
you certainly are possessed with great nerve! While that
coal to everybody was a godsend, yet think of the risk
you took! Why, supposing you had gotten lost in that ter-
rific storm; lost as people have been in the West before!
You must be careful," she admonished, kindly. " You are
really too fine a young man to go out here and get frozen to
d**h, indeed!" Baptiste started perceptibly. She re-
garded him questioningly. Unconsciously his eyes wan-
dered toward Agnes who stood near, absorbed in all Mrs.
Reynolds had been saying. His eyes met hers briefly, and
the events of the night at the sod house pa**ed through the
minds of both. The next moment they looked away, and
Mrs. Reynolds, not understanding, glanced toward Agnes.
She was by disposition versatile. But she caught her breath
now with sudden equanimity, as she turned to Agnes and
cried:
"Oh, Miss Stewart, you!" she smiled with her usual de-
light and going toward Agnes caught her arm affectionately,
and then, with face still beaming, she turned to where Bap-
tiste stood.
"I want you, Miss Stewart," she said with much ostenta-
tion, "to meet one of our neighbors and friends; one of the
most enterprising young men of the country, Mr. Jean Bap-
tiste. Mr. Baptiste, Miss Agnes Stewart." She did it
gracefully, and for a time was overcome by her own vanity.
In the meantime the lips of both those before her parted to
say that they had met, and then slowly, understandingly, they
saw that this would mean to explain. . . . Their faces
lighted with the logic of meeting formally, and greetings
were exchanged to fit the occasion.
For the first time he was permitted to see her, to regard
her as the real Agnes. There was no embarra**ment in her
face but composure as she extended her small ungloved hand
this time and permitted it to rest lightly in his palm. She
smiled easily as she accepted his ardent gaze and showed a
row of even white teeth momentarily before turning coquet-
ishly away.
He regarded her intimately in one sweep of his eyes.
She accepted this also with apparent composure. She was
now fully normal in her composition. That about her which
others had understood, and were inspired to call beautiful
now seemed to strangely affect him.
Was it because he was hungry for woman's love; be-
cause since he had looked upon this land of promise and
out of the visions she had come to him in those long silent
days; because of his lonely young life there in the sod
house she had communed with him; was it that he had
imagined her sweet radiance that now caused him to feel
that she was beautiful?
She had looked away only briefly, as if to give him time
to think, to consider her, and then she turned her eyes upon
him again. She regarded him frankly then, albeit admir-
ingly. She wanted to hear him say something. She was
not herself aware of how anxious she was to hear him
speak; for him to say anything, would please her. And
as she stood before him in her sweet innocence, all the
goodness she possessed, the heart and desire always to be
kind, to do for others as she had always, was revealed to
him. His dream girl she was, and in reality she had not
disappointed him.
If visionary he had loved her, he now saw her and what
was hers. Her wondrous hair, rolled into a frivolous knot
at the back of her head made her face appear the least
slender when it was really square; the chestnut glint of it
seemed to contrast coquettishly with her white skin; and
the life, the healthy, cheerful life that now gave vigor to
her blood brought faint red roses to her cheeks; roses that
seemed to come and go. Her red lips seemed to tempt him,
he was captivated. He forgot in this intimate survey that
she was of one race while he, Jean Baptiste, was of another.
. . . And that between their two races, the invisible barrier,
the barrier which, while invisible was so absolute, so strong,
so impossible of melting that it was best for the moment
that he forget it.
While all he saw pa**ed in a moment, he regarded her
slenderness as she stood bu*toned in the long coat, and
wondered how she, so slight and fragile, had been able to
lift his heavy frame upon the bed where he had found
himself. And still before words had pa**ed between them,
he saw her again, and that singularity in the eyes had come
back; they were blue and then they were brown, but withal
they were so baffling. He did not seem to understand her
when they were like this, yet when so he felt strangely a
greater right, the right to look into and feast in what he
saw, regardless of the custom of the country and its law.
. . . And still while he was not aware of it, Jean Baptiste
came to feel that there was something between them.
Though infinite, in the life that was to come, he now came
strangely to feel sure that he was to know her, to become
more intimately acquainted with her, and with this con-
sciousness he relaxed. The spell that had come from meet-
ing her again, from being near her, from holding her hand
in his though formally, the exchange of words pa**ed and
he gradually became his usual self; the self that had always
been his in this land where others than those of the race to
which he belonged were the sole inhabitants. He was re-
lieved when he heard Mrs. Reynolds' voice:
"Miss Stewart and her folks have just moved out from
Indiana, Jean, and are renting on the Watson place over
east of you; the place that corners with the quarter you
purchased last fall, you understand."
"Indeed!" Baptiste echoed with feigned ignorance, his
eyebrows dilating.
"Yes," she went on with concern, "And you are neigh-
bors."
"I'm glad honored," Baptiste essayed.
"He is flattering," blushed Agnes, but she was pleased.
"And you'll find Mr. Baptiste the finest kind of neighbor,
too," cried Mrs. Reynolds with equal delight.
"I'm a bad neighbor, Miss Stewart," he disdained. "Our
friend here, Mrs. Reynolds, you see, is full of flattery."
"I don't believe so, Mr. Baptiste," she defended, glad
lo be given an opportunity to speak. "We have just be-
come acquainted, but papa has told me of her and the
family, and I'm sure we will be the best of friends, won't
we?" she ended with her eyes upon Mrs. Reynolds.
"Bless you, yes! Who could keep from liking you?"
whereupon she caught Agnes close and kissed her impul-
sively.
"Oh, say, now," cried Baptiste, and then stopped.
"You're not a woman," laughed Mrs. Reynolds, "but you
understand," she added reprovingly. Suddenly her face
lit up with a new thought, and the usual smiling gave way
to seriousness, as she cried:
"By the way, Jean. We hear that you are going to hire
a man this spring, and that reminds me that Miss Stewart's
father has two boys - her brothers - whom he has not
work enough nor horses enough to use, so he wishes to hire
one out." She paused to observe Agnes, who had also be-
come serious and was looking up at her.
At this point she turned to Baptiste, and with a slight
hesitation, she said:
"Do you really wish to hire a man - Mr. - a - Mr.
Baptiste?" Saying it had heightened her color, and the
anxiety in her tone caused her to appear more serious. She
had turned her eyes up to his and he was for the instant cap-
tivated again with the thought that she was beautiful. His
answer, however, was calm.
"I must have a man," he acknowledged. "I have more
work than I can do alone."
"Why, papa wishes to hire Bill." It was natural to say
Bill because it was Bill they always hired, although George
was the older; but since we know why George was never
offered, we return to her. "I should say William," she
corrected awkwardly, and with an effort she cast it out of
her mind and went on: "So if - if you think you could -
a - use him, or would care to give him the job," she
was annoyed with the fact that Bill was halfwitted, and it
confused her, which explains the slight catches in her voice.
But bravely she continued, "That is, if you have not already
given some one else the job, you could speak to papa, and
he would be pleased, I'm sure." She ended with evident
relief; but the thought that had confused her, being still in
her mind, her face was dark with a confusion that he did
not understand.
Hoping to relieve the annoyance he could see, although
not understanding the cause of it, he spoke up quickly.
"I have not hired a man, and have no other in sight;
so your suggestion, Miss, regarding your brother meets
with my favor. I will endeavor therefore, to see your
father today if possible, if not, later, and discuss the mat-
ter pro and con."
He had made it so easy for her, and she was overly
gracious as she attempted to have him understand in some
manner that her brother was afflicted. So her effort this
time was a bit braver, notwithstanding as anxious, however,
as before.
"Oh, papa will be glad to have my brother work for you,
and I wish you would would please not hire any other
until you have talked with him." She paused again as if
to gather courage for the final drive.
"You will find my brother faithful, and honest, and a
good worker; but – but - " it seemed that she could not
avoid the break in her voice when she came to this all em-
barra**ing point, "but sometimes he - he makes mis-
takes. He is a little awkward, a little bunglesome in start-
ing, but if you would could exercise just a little patience
for a few days a day, I am sure he would please you."
It was out at last. She was sure he would understand.
It had cost her such an effort to try to make it plain with-
out just coming out and saying he was halfwitted. She
was not aware that in concluding she had done so appeal-
ingly. He had observed it and his man's heart went out to
her in her distress. He remembered then too, although he
had on their first meeting forgotten that he had been told
all about her brothers, and had also heard of her.
"You need have no fear there, Miss Stewart," he wil-
fully lied. "I am the most patient man in the world."
He wondered then at himself, that he could lie so easily.
His one great failing was his impatience, and he knew it.
Because he did and felt that he tried to crush it, was his
redeeming feature in this respect. But the words had light-
ened her burden, and there was heightening of her color, as
she spoke now with unfeigned delight:
"Oh, that is indeed kind of you. I am so glad to hear
you say so. Bill is a good hand everybody likes him
after he has worked a while. It is because he is a little
awkward and forgetful in the beginning that worries my
father and me. So I'm glad you know now and will not be
impatient."
In truth while she did not know it, Jean was pleased with
the prospect. He had not lived two years in the country,
the new country, without having experienced the difficulty
that comes with the usual hired man. The cla** of men,
with the exception of a homesteader, who came to the
country for work usually fell into the pastime of gambling
and drinking which seemed to be contagious, and many
were the griefs they gave those by whom they were em-
ployed. And Jean Baptiste, now that she had made it plain
regarding her brother, had something to say himself.
"There is one little thing I should like to mention, Miss
Stewart," he said with apparent seriousness. She caught
her breath with renewed anxiety as she returned his look.
In the next instant she was relieved, however, as he said:
"You understand that I am baching, a bachelor, and the
fare of bachelors is, I trust you will appreciate, not always
the best." He paused as he thought of how she must feel
after having seen the way he kept his house, and hoped
that she could overlook the condition in which she knew he
kept it. But if he was embarra**ed at the thought of it, it
was not so with her. For her sympathy went out to him.
She was conscious of how inconvenient it must be to bach,
to live alone as he was doing, and to work so hard.
"It is not always to hired men's liking to forego the
meals that only women can prepare, and for that reason
it is sometimes difficult for us to keep men."
"Oh, you will not have to worry as to that, Mr. Bap-
tiste," she a**ured him pleasantly. She caught her breath
with something joyous apparently as she turned to him.
"You see, we live almost directly between your two places,
and my brother can stay home and save you that trouble and
bother." She was glad that she could be of a**istance to
him in some way, though it be indirectly. With sudden im-
pulse, she turned to Mrs. Reynolds who had not inter-
rupted:
"It will be nice, now, won't it?"
"Just dandy," the other agreed readily. "I am so glad
we all three met here," she went on. "In meeting we have
fortunately been of some service to each other. You will
find Mr. Baptiste a fine fellow to work for. We let our
boys go over and help him out when he's pushed, and we
know he appreciates it to the fullest." She halted, turned
now mischievously to Baptiste and cried:
"We are always after Jean that he should marry. Why,
just think what a good husband he would make some nice
girl." She had found her topic, had Mrs. Reynolds. Of
all topics, she preferred to jolly the single with getting
married to anything else, so she went on with delight.
"He goes off down to Chicago every winter and we wait
to see the girl when he returns, but always he disappoints
us." She affected a frown a moment before resuming:
"It is certainly too bad that some good girl must do without
a home and the happiness that is due her, while he lives
there alone, having no comfort but what he gets when he
goes visiting." She affected to appear serious and to have
him feel it, while he could do nothing but grin awkwardly.
"Oh, Mrs. Reynolds, you're hard on a fellow. My!
Give him a chance. It takes two to make a bargain. I
can't marry myself." He caught the eyes of Agnes who
was enjoying his tender expression. Indeed the subject
appealed to him, and he had found it to his liking. She
blushed. She enjoyed the humor.
"I suspect Mrs. Reynolds speaks the truth," she said
with affected seriousness, but found it impossible to down
the color in her flaming cheeks nevertheless.
"Oh, but you two can jolly a fellow." He became seri-
ous now as he went on: "But it isn't fair. There is no
girl back in Chicago; there is no girl anywhere for me."
He was successful in his affectation of self pity, and her
feelings went out to him in her words that followed:
"Now that is indeed, too bad, for him, Mrs. Reynolds,
isn't it? Perhaps he is telling the truth. The girls in
Chicago do not always understand the life out here, and
cannot make one feel very much encouraged." She won-
dered at her own words. But she went on nevertheless.
"Even back in Indiana they do not understand the West.
They are seem to be, so narrow, they feel that they
are living in the only place of civilization on earth." Her
logical statement took away the joke. They became serious.
The store was filling and the crowd was pushing. So they
parted.
A few minutes later as Baptiste pa**ed down the street,
he saw Peter Kaden coming from the commissioners' office.
Across the way he observed Barr and Syfe stop and ex-
change a few words. The next moment they went their
two ways while he stood looking after them.