Oscar Micheaux - The Homesteader IX - XVI lyrics

CHAPTER IX " CHRISTINE, CHRISTINE ! " ONE WEEK from the day Peter Kaden made proof at Gregory on the homestead he held, the court record showed that he had transferred the same to some unknown person. In the course of events it was not noticed by the ma**es. It was because Jean Baptiste was expecting something of the kind that he happened to observe the record of the transfer in the following week's issue of the paper. He couldn't get the incident out of his mind, and he found his eyes wandering time and again in the direction of the house of Augustus M. Barr in the days that followed. From what he had gleaned from the papers, he was sure that something sinister was to occur in that new land soon. He tried in vain to formulate some plan of action rather, some plan of prevention. But the plot, the intrigue, or whatever it may be called, was deep. It had taken root be- fore either had ever seen the country they now called home. And because of its intricate nature, he could formulate no plan toward combatting the thing he felt positively in his veins was to take place. Over the hill two miles and more the claim shack of Peter Kaden could not be seen. But he could always feel where it was and the events that went on therein. This healthy, but sad, forlorn German had aroused his sympathy, and always when he thought of him, strangely he thought of Christine. The days pa**ed slowly and things went on as usual. 75 76 THE HOMESTEADER He saw Barr occasionally and as often saw the dark Syfe. He read as was his wont, and then one evening when his few chores were done, he had a desire to walk. He drew on his overcoat, and, taking a bucket, he walked slowly down the slope that led up to his house, to the well a quarter mile distant. He could never after account for the strange feel- ing that came and went as he ambled toward the well He reached it in due time, filled his bucket, and was in the act of returning when out of the night he caught the unmis- takable sound of horses' hoofs. Some one on horseback was coming. He set the bucket down and bent his ears more keenly to hear the sound. Yes, they were hoof beats, an unusual clatter. He gave a start. Only one horse in the neighborhood made such a noise with the hoofs when moving, for he had heard the same before, and that horse belonged to A. M. Barr, and was a pacer. Christine had use to ride him. And when he recalled it, he became curious. Christine was not there, he knew, unless she had come that day, which was not likely. . . . Then who rode the horse f He had never seen Barr on horseback. . . . They were coming from about where Barr's house stood, coming in his direction along the road. He estimated at that moment they must be about a quarter of a mile away. He listened intently. Onward they came, drawing closer all the while. He got an in- spiration. Why should he be seen? He moved back from the road some distance. There was no moon and the night was dark, but the stars filled the night air with a dim ray. He lay upon the ground as the horseman drew nearer. Presently out of the shadow he caught the dim outline of the rider. He saw that a heavy ulster was worn, and the collar of the same was around the rider's neck, almost concealing the head ; but he recognized the rider as A. M. Barr. "CHRISTINE, CHRISTINE!" 77 " Now where can he be going," he muttered to himself, standing erect as he listened to the hoof beats on the road below. He pondered briefly. " Why does he never ride in the daytime?" From down the road the sound of hoof beats continued. And then Baptiste was again inspired. " Kaden ! " he cried, and fell into deep thought. At his left was a small creek, usually dry. This stream led in an angling direction down toward the larger stream south of the town. It led directly toward the claim of Peter Kaden, although the homestead lay beyond the creek. By following it, one could reach Kaden's house in about two- thirds the distance if going by trail. A few minutes later Jean Baptiste was speedily following the route that led to the creek. He paused at intervals and upon listening could hear the hoof beats along the trail in the inevitable direction. He reached the creek in a short time, found his way across it, and once on the other side, he hurried through a school section to Kaden's cabin that was joined with this on the south. He crossed the school sec- tion quickly, and in the night air he could smell, and pres- ently came to see, the smoke curling from the chimney. He approached the house cautiously. He was glad that poor Kaden didn't keep a dog. When he had drawn close enough to distinguish the objects before him, he saw Barr's horse tied out of the wind, on the south side of the little barn. He looked closer and observed another near. He reckoned that one to be Syfe's. " So the triangle is form- ing," he muttered. He went up to the house noiselessly. He pa**ed around its dark side to where he saw light emanating from the small window. He peered cautiously through it. Sitting on the side of the bed, Kaden's face met his gaze. He regarded it briefly before seeking out the others. Never, he felt, if he ;8 THE HOMESTEADER lived a hundred years would he ever forget the expression of agony that face wore! Upon its usual roundness, percep- tible lines had formed; in the light of the dim lamp he caught the darkness about the eyes, the skin under almost sagging and swollen. He permitted his gaze to drift further, and to take in the proportions of the room. On a stool near sat Syfe, the Jew. He wore his over- coat. Indeed, Baptiste could not recall having ever seen him without it about him; also he wore his thick, dark cap. His little mustache stood out over the small mouth, between the lips of which reposed the usual cigarette. He was drawing away easily at this, while his ears appeared to be attentive to what was going on. He was listening to Barr, who stood in the center of the room, talking in much excitement, making gestures; while he could see the agon- ized Kaden protesting. He could not catch all that was being said, but some of it. Barr, in particular, he observed, while speaking forcibly, was nevertheless controlled. It was Kaden whose voice reached his ears more often on the out- side. "I kept you from Australia. . . ." this from Barr. [< They had you on shipboard. . . . Your carca** would be fit for the vultures now on that sand swept desert you were headed for. . . ." " But I was innocent, I was innocent," protested Kaden. " I didn't go to Russia that trip. I didn't go to Russia, and to Jerusalem, I have never been ! " " But you hadn't proved it. You were done for. They had you, and all you could do or say wouldn't have kept you in England. It was I, me, do you understand. . . . You do understand that I kept you from going. I, me, who saved you. No law in this land could keep you here if they knew now where you were. . . ." " CHRISTINE, CHRISTINE ! " 79 " But you forget Christine, my poor Christine ! You have her, is that not enough ? Oh, you are hard. You drive me most insane. Tell me about Christine. Give her back to me and all is yours." A wind rose suddenly out of the west. A shed stood near, a shed covered over with hay and some poles that had been cut green, and the now dry leaves gave forth a moan- ing sound. He saw those inside start. With the noise, Baptiste knew he could hear no more, and might be ap- prehended. Stealthily he departed. And all the way to the sod house that night he kept repeating what he had heard. " Christine, Christine I You have her, is she not enough? Give her back and all is yours!" If he could only ascertain what was between Kaden and Christine but it was all coming to something soon, and he knew that Augustus M. Barr was taking the advantage of some one; that Kaden was innocent but couldn't prove it; that Syfe was in some way darkly connected, and the eternal triangle held to its sinister purpose. CHAPTER X " YOU HAVE NEVER BEEN THIS WAY BEFORE " WHEN AGNES STEWART found her father and they were ready to return home, she inquired: "Did he see you?" "See who?" " You ? You don't understand. I mean the colored gentleman, Mr. Baptiste?" " Why, no, my dear," her father replied wonderingly. " I saw him, but I had no word with him. I don't under- stand." " Why, I met him. Mrs. Reynolds, who knows you she and I became acquainted, and we met and had a long talk with Mr. Baptiste, and he is going to hire a man, so we discussed Bill. He said he would see you." Her father drew the team to a stop. " I don't understand. I should see him, and I did, but he was talking with some fellows who live north of town. I think it was about horses. He went with them, so I sup pose we may as well go on home and see him later." " I'm so sorry," she said and showed it in her face. " I had hoped he would get to see you, and that it would all be settled and Bill would get the job." " Don't be so out of hope," said he. "I have no doubt that we will get to see Mr. Baptiste, and talk it over." " I am worried, because you know, papa, when we have paid for the seed and feed, we will have very little left." 80 "NEVER THIS WAY BEFORE" 81 " Such a wonderful, such a thoughtful little girl I have," he said admiringly, stroking her hand fondly in the mean- time. " I can't imagine how I could get along without my Aggie." " See him and get Bill hired and I'll not worry any more." " I'll do so, I'll do so tomorrow." " You say you saw him going north of town ? " "Yes." She was silent, while he was thoughtful. Presently he inquired of what pa**ed when she met him. She told him. " I never spoke of having met him before." "You didn't?" " Why, no, papa. How could I ? It would be hard to explain." " Well, now, coming to think of it, it would, wouldn't it? " "It shouldn't" she said. She didn't relish the situation. "Did he?" "What?" " Speak of it." " Oh, no ! He didn't . . ." " I wonder has he ever." " I don't think so." " That is very thoughtful of him." " It is. He is a real gentleman." " So everybody says." " And so pleasant to listen to." " Indeed." " Mrs. Reynolds is carried away with him. Says he's one of the most industrious and energetic young men of the country." "Isn't that fine! But it seems rather odd, doesn't it? Him out here alone." 82 THE HOMESTEADER " It is indeed singular. But he is just the kind of man a new country needs." " If the country had a few hundred more like him we wouldn't know it in five years." " In three years ! " she said admiringly. " How shall we explain in regards to Bill ? . . ." " I've explained." "You have!" " Oh, I didn't come out and say it in words, of course. I didn't need to." " Then how ? How did you make him understand ? " " It was easy. It was easy because he is so quick witted. He seems to readily understand anything." "I'll bet!" " He spoke of the fact that being a bachelor it was awk- ward to keep hired men, and this fact seemed to worry him." " But why didn't you explain that Bill could stay home ? " "I did." "Oh!" " And he was so relieved." " I'm sure he was. It is very inconvenient." " It is. And I feel rather sorry for him." ' Needs a wife." She was silent. " Wonder why he doesn't marry ? " " I don't know." "Will make some girl a fine husband." Silence. " I guess he has a girl, though, and will likely marry soon." " I don't think so." "Why?" "Well," she said slowly. She blushed unseen and went " NEVER THIS WAY BEFORE " 83 on : " Mrs. Reynolds joked him about it, and he denied it." " But any man would do that. They like to be modest ; to appear like they have no loves. It creates sympathy. Men are sentimental, too. They like sympathy." " Yes, I suppose so," she said slowly, thoughtfully. " But I don't think he has a girl. In my mind he is a poor lone- some fellow. Just like he has no close friends. . . ." He was silent now. " I have thought about it since I met him." "You have?" " Why, yes. Certainly." Her father laughed. "Why are you laughing?" she asked, somewhat nettled. " I was thinking." " Thinking ? Thinking of what ? " " " Of Jean Baptiste." " What do you mean ?" " Why, there is a good chance for you." "Father!" "Why not!" " Father ! How can you ! " He laughed. She acted as if angry. He looked at her mischievously. She did not grant him a smile. " Tut, tut, Aggie ! Can't you take a joke? " " But you should not joke like that." " Oh, come now. It pleased me to joke like that." " Why should it please you ? " " Why, I have a sense of humor." "A sense of humor?" " Yes." " But I don't see the joke? " " Why, Aggie," he turned to her seriously. " Almost I don't think it is a joke." 84 THE HOMESTEADER "Father!" " Well, dear? You seem to be so interested in the man/' " Father, oh, father ! " and the next instant she was crying. He reached out and caught her fondly to him. "My girl, my girl, I didn't intend to upset you. Now be papa's little darling and don't cry any more ! " " You have never been this way before," she sobbed. He caressed her more now. "Well, dearest. You see. Well, your mother" " My mother ! " she sat quickly up. " We are going to raise a great crop this year. I feel sure of it." " But my mother ! " " I think I know where I can get some good seed oats." They rode along in silence the rest of the way, con- sumed with their own thoughts. No words pa**ed, but Agnes was thinking. She would never get out of her mind what her father had started to say. But he had stopped in time. . . . Her mind went back to the strange incidents in her life. She lived over again the day she had looked in the mirror and had seen that strange look, she connected it singularly with what her father had started to say. She was silent thereafter, but her soul was on fire,. CHAPTER XI WHAT JEAN BAPTISTE FOUND IN THE WELL * 4 "^T IT TELL, my friend," said A. M. Barr, stopping be- ^^7 fore Baptiste's hut one day shortly after his visit to Kaden's, " I have my date and will make proof on the 22nd of March. I have listed you as one of my wit- nesses. Guess I may depend on you to be ready that day ? " " I shall remember it, Mr. Barr," answered Baptiste. " Have you rented your place yet? " " No, I have not. Rather, not the buildings. My neighbor across the road, however, will put the thirty acres I have broken into crop, and break a few more." " M-m." " How much do you plan seeding this season ? " "All of both places anyhow." "Ah, young man, I tell you, you are a worker! Such young men as you will be the making of this country. And you'll be rich in time." " Oh, no," cried Baptiste disdainfully. " If I were young and strong like you, I would be doing the same." " You expect to go away when you have completed your proof. . . ." "Well, I don't know," whereupon A. M. Barr cast a furtive glance in his direction. Baptiste pretended not to see it. " What'll you do with your horses ? " Another furtive glance. 85 86 THE HOMESTEADER " Well, I might advertise a sale," he said boldly. He cast a dark look in Baptiste's direction, which the other pre- tended not to see but did see nevertheless. " Why, what could he know," was in Barr's mind. " Nothing," he an- swered his own question. A moment later he was the same Barr; the officious Englishman when he drove down the road a few minutes later, and none the wiser therefor. March the twenty-second came and went, and Augustus offered proof on his homestead, and pa**ed, Baptiste as- sisting him as witness. Sunday was the next day, and when it came, all calm and beautiful, Baptiste realized that he did not have enough seed wheat to sow all his land that he wished put in wheat. A squaw man had raised a 'large crop to the southwest of him the year before, and this, he understood, was for sale. He decided to call on the squaw man, ascertain the fact, and if so, purchase a share of it for his purpose. Accordingly, Sunday morning after he had breakfasted, and piled the dishes bachelor fashion (unwashed) he started out. The route he took carried him directly by Peter Kaden's claim, and when he had gone that far, and found himself looking at the low, sod house that stood a few paces back from the road, he was curious. He paused unconsciously before the house and observed it idly a few moments. He was struck with the quietness about, and at once be- came curiously apprehensive. No smoke emerged from the chimney. There was no evidence that any one was about. Impelled by his growing curiosity, he approached the house and knocked at the door. There was no response from within. He tried it again. Still no response. He tried the knob. It gave. He pushed the door open cautiously, and peered in. The house was empty but for the crude fur- WHAT JEAN FOUND IN THE WELL 87 niture. He entered curiously and looked about. The bed was spread over, there was no fire in the stove, the coldness of the atmosphere within impressed him with a theory that no fire had been in the. stove that day or the night before. The dishes were clean and piled on the table with a cloth spread over them. He went outside, closing the door be- hind him and swept the surrounding country with his gaze which revealed no Peter Kaden. He lowered his eyes in thought as his lips muttered: " Wonder where he is ?" A path began at his feet. It led down to a draw some two hundred yards away. He fell into it aimlessly and followed its course for a short way. Presently, upon look- ing up, he saw a well at the side of the draw which obviously was the terminus of the path. Forthwith he made the well his objective. In that country wells were not plentiful. The soil was of the richest and blackest loam with a clay subsoil; but water except where there was sand, was not easily found only in or near a draw, or a flat. He reached the well, and, drawing aside the bucket that reposed on the lid, he opened the well and lowered the bucket to the water some thirty feet below. The bright sun rays somewhat blinded him and for a moment he could not see the water clearly. The bucket struck, in due time, however, and he wondered why there was no splash. He jerked it over, and when it struck again there was the sound of water, but it appeared difficult to sink it. He peered down into it again to ascertain what the matter was. A wave of ripples caught his gaze, while the bucket seemed to be resting on something. He gave the rope another jerk and twist, and it came down bottom- side up on the dark object. " Hell," he muttered, " this well is dry ! " He took an- 88 THE HOMESTEADER other look. " No, it isn't dry. There is something in the well." Bending until his face was shaded by the shadow of the well, he searched below very closely with his eyes. He could distinguish that there was something; and that the something seemed to bobble. He withdrew the bucket, unfilled, and, allowing a few moments for the ripples to subside, he searched the darkness below again closely. He became conscious of a cold feeling stealing up his spine, then he caught and held his breath as slowly what was below took outline. It was not a dog, a coyote, a pig, or an animal of any kind. It was something else . . . and the something else had features that were familiar. At last realization was upon him, his fingers gripped the boards they held as he gradually straightened up. " My God ! " he cried at last, terror stricken. For below him, with white face turned upward as if laughing, was the dead body of Peter Kaden. CHAPTER XII MISS STEWART RECEIVES A CALLER COINCIDENT with the finding of Peter Kaden's body in the well, certain things became public with regard to others. But to complete this part of it. After finding the body Jean Baptiste hurried into Dallas and gave the alarm. Excitement ran high for a time, and as it was Sunday, in a few hours the spot around the well was crowded. From over all the reservation the people came, and the consensus of opinion was that it was suicide. . . . Perhaps Jean Baptiste was the only one who had his doubts. If it was suicide, then he was positive it was a precipitated suicide. Until the coroner arrived there was no disposition made of the remains, and when he did, the decision of suicide was sustained. Since the man Baptiste had started to see was brought to the spot by the excitement, the business in hand was settled thereupon, and that evening, he went to call on the Stewarts with a view to hiring Bill. He found Agnes alone, but was invited to enter. From her expression, he could see that he was expected, and while he waited for her father who had gone across the road, they fell into amiable conversation. " Springtime is knocking at our door," he ventured. " And I am glad to see it, and suppose you are also," she answered. 89 90 THE HOMESTEADER " Who isn't ! It has been a very severe winter." " I think so, too. Are the winters here as a rule as cold as this one has been ? " How modest he thought she was. She was dressed neatly in a satin shirtwaist and tailored skirt; while from beneath the skirts her small feet incased in heavy shoes peeped like mice. Her neck rose out of her bodice and he thought her throat was so very round and white; while he noticed her prominent chin more today than he had before. He liked it. Nature had been his study, and he didn't like a retreating chin. It, to his mind, was an indication of weak will, with exceptions perhaps here and there. He reposed more confidence in the person, however, when the chin was like hers, so naturally he was interested. As she sat before him with folded hands, he also observed her heavy hair, done into braids and gathered about her head. It gave her an unostentatious expression ; while her eyes were as he had found them before, baffling. " Why, no, they are not," he said. " Of course I have not seen many in fact this is the second ; but I am advised that, as a rule, the winters are very mild for this latitude." " I see. I hope they will always be so if we continue to live here," and she laughed pleasantly. " How do you like it in our country ? " he inquired now, pleased to be in conversation with her. " Why, I like it very well," she replied amiably. " What I have seen of it, I think I would as soon live here as back in Indiana." " I have been in Indiana myself." "You have?" She was cheered with the fact. He nodded. " Yes, all over. What part of Indiana do you come from?" " Rensselaer," she replied, shifting with comfort, and MISS STEWART RECEIVES A CALLER 91 delighted that by his having been in Indiana, he was making their conversation easier. " Oh, I see," she heard him. " That is toward the north- ern part of the state." " Yes," she replied in obvious delight. " I have never been to that town, but I have been all around it." " Well, well ! " She was at a loss in the moment how to proceed and then presently she said: " You have traveled considerably, Mr. Baptiste, I under- stand." He felt somewhat flattered to know that she had dis- cussed him with others apparently. " Well, yes, I have," he replied slowly. " That must be fine. I long so much to travel." " You have not traveled far ? " " No. From Indiana to Western Kansas where we were most starved out, and then back to Indiana and out here." He laughed, she also joined in and they felt nearer each other by it. " And how do you like it, Mr. Baptiste ? " " Out here, you mean ? " " Yes, why, yes, of course," she added hastily. " Why, I like it fine. I'm thoroughly in love with the country." " That's nice. And you own such nice land, I don't wonder," she said thoughtfully. "Oh, well," he replied, modestly, "I think I should like it anyhow." " Of course ; but when one has property such nice land as you own, they have everything to like it for." " I'm compelled to agree with you." " I'm sorry we don't own any," she said regretfully. 92 THE HOMESTEADER " But of course in a way we are not entitled to. We didn't get in ' on the ground floor/ therefore we must be satisfied as renters.'* He was silent but attentive. " Papa never seems to have been very fortunate. It may be due to his quaint old fashioned manner, but he has never owned any land at all, poor fellow." She said the last more to herself than to him. He was interested and con- tinued to listen. " We went to Western Kansas with a little money and very good stock, and were dried out two years straight, and the third year when we had a good crop with a chance to get back at least a little of what we had lost, along came a big hail storm and pounded everything into the ground." " Wasn't that too bad ! " he cried sympathetically. " It sure was ! It is awfully discouraging to work as hard and to have sacrificed as much as we had, and then come out as we did. It just took all the ambition out of him." " I shouldn't wonder/' he commented tenderly. " And then we went back to Indiana broke, of course, and having no money and no stock; because we had to sell what we had left to get out of Western Kansas. So since ' beggars can't be choosers ' we had to take what we could get. And that was a poor farm in a remote part of Indiana, in a little place that was so poor that the corn was all nubbins. They called it ' Nubbin Ridge.' " He laughed, and she had to also when she thought of it. " Well, we were able to live and pay a little on some more stock. Because my brothers didn't take much to run around with like other boys but stayed home and worked, we finally succeeded in getting just a little something together again and then a real estate man came along and told us about this place, so here we are." She bestowed a smile upon him MISS STEWART RECEIVES A CALLER 93 and sighed. She had told more of themselves than she had intended, but it had been a pleasant diversion at that; moreover, she was delighted because he was such an at- tentive listener. " So that is how you came here?" he essayed. " I have enjoyed listening to you. Your lives read like an interesting book." " Oh, that isn't fair. You are joking with me ! " Not- withstanding, she blushed furiously. " No, no, indeed," he protested. She believed him. Strangely she reposed such confidence in the man that she felt she could sit and talk with him forever. " But it is certainly too bad that you have been so un- fortunate. I am sure it will not always be so. You are perseverant, I see, and ' riches come to him who waits/ " " An old saying, but I hope it will not wait too long. Papa is getting old, and my brothers would be unable to manage with any effect alone. . . ." He understood her and the incident was overlooked. " Your mother is dead ? " " Yes, my mother is dead, Mr. Baptiste." " Oh." " Died when I was a baby." " Well, well. . . ." " I never knew her." " Well, I do say ! " He paused briefly, while she was silent but thinking deeply. . . . Thinking of what her father had started to say and never finished. " And I venture to say that you have just about raised yourself?" She blushed. " You must be a wonderful girl." 94 THE HOMESTEADER She blushed again and twisted her hands about. She tried to protest; but couldn't trust herself to say anything just then. How she liked to hear him talk! " You have my best wishes, believe me," he was at a loss for the moment as to how to proceed. " Oh, thank you." She didn't dare raise her eyes. He regarded her as she sat before him, blushing so beautifully, and wished they were of the same race. . . . Footsteps were heard at that moment, and both sat up expectantly. Quickly, then, she rose to her feet and went to the door and opened it in time to meet her father who was about to enter. " Oh, it's you, father ! I'm glad you've come. Mr. Bap- tiste is here to see you." " Ah-ha, Mr. Baptiste, I am honored," cried Jack Stewart, her father, and he marched forward with outstretched hand and much ado; Scotch propriety. " Glad to know you, Judge," Baptiste returned warmly, grasping the proffered hand. " Be seated, be seated and make yourself comfortable ; make yourself at home," he said, pushing forward the chair out of which Baptiste had risen. Agnes was smiling pleas- antly. She could see that the two were going to become friends, for both were so frank in their demeanor. " Now, Aggie, you must prepare supper for Mr. Baptiste and myself," he said, taking hold of her arm. "Oh, no," disdained Baptiste. "Don't think of it!" " Now, now, my worthy friend," admonished Stewart, and then stopped. " Why you have met my daughter ? " " Yes, we have met," they spoke in the same breath, ex- changing glances. " Then, while you fix us something good to eat, we will discuss our business." MISS STEWART RECEIVES A CALLER 95 They found no difficulty in reaching a bargain in regard to Bill, the bargain being that Bill was to board home and sleep there also ; and the consideration was to be one dollar per day, and by the time this was completed, Agnes called them to supper. " This is an unexpected pleasure, even though it be an in- trusion," said Baptiste as he was gently urged into a seat. " Ah-ha, and I see you have a sense of humor," where- upon Jack Stewart's eyes glistened humorously behind the old style gla**es he wore. Baptist colored unseen, while Agnes regarded him smilingly. " We haven't much, but what is here you are welcome to," she said. " It's a feast," said he. " About as good as baching, anyhow," joined Stewart. "Hush!" "How do you like it?" " Didn't I say hush ? That should be sufficient 1 " Agnes took a seat and surveyed the table carefully to see that all was there. Her father was pious. He blessed the table, and when this was over, fell to eating with his knife. " By the way," cried Baptiste near the end of the meal. " Did you hear the news ? " " What news," they asked in chorus. " The man dead in the well." " Is that so ! " they exclaimed, shocked. He then told them in detail all about the finding of the body, and the opinion that it was a suicide. They listened with the usual awe and curiosity. But Jean Baptiste did not voice his suspicions, or tell them anything he knew. At a later hour he took his leave. And neither of the three realized then that the self-same 96 THE HOMESTEADER tragedy linked strangely an after event in their lives. But when Jean Baptiste went over the hill to his sod house that stood on the claim, Jack Stewart went outside and walked around for almost an hour. He was thinking. Thinking of something he knew and had never told. CHAPTER XIII THE COMING OF THE RAILROAD IT IS NOT likely that the people in the neighborhood of Dallas would have ever known any more than they did regarding A. M. Barr, had it not been for two accounts. When proof had been offered by him on his homestead and a loan sought, to keep from invalidating the title to his land, he was compelled to admit that he was married; but, fortunately for him, it was not necessary to state when or how long he had been married, and this he obligingly did not state. But the surprise came when upon admittance, he then confessed to the promoters that he had married Christine. ... Of course everybody was positive then that he had been married to Christine when he came to the country, and that he was married to her at the time she was holding the claim. Perjury was a penitentiary offense. He had sold her claim on pretense that she must go to England. Christine, as Baptiste had come to know by the papers he found, had not, of course, gone to England ; but merely to Lincoln, Nebraska, where she was safe to keep silent about what she knew in regard to the subtle transactions of Augustus M. Barr. The incident went the usual route of gossip, the people wondering how such a beautiful girl as Christine could be happy as the wife of an old, broken down infidel like Barr. But they never came into the truth, the whole truth; they never connected Barr with the dark Assyrian Jew, Isaac Syf e ; nor were they aware that he had ever known the forlorn Peter Kaden. Only Jean Baptiste knew this, and 97 98 THE HOMESTEADER that, although Barr called a sale and immediately left the country, there was something still to be completed. But Jean Baptiste didn't know then that it would all come back to him in such an unusual manner. However, the public learned a little more concerning the previous activities of this august contemporary before long. It came in the form of a sensational newspaper feature story. And was in brief to wit : While pastor of the Baker Street church, London, Isaac M. Barr, and not Augustus, mind you, although there was no question about the two being one and the same became very much in the confidence of his flock. Of London's great middle cla** they were and possessed ambition, which Barr apparently appealed to. The result was that a great colony set sail for a land of promise, the land being Western Can- ada. The full details were not given ; but it seems that Barr was the trustee and handled the money. On arrival, Barr suddenly disappeared and the good people from England never saw him again, which perhaps accounts in some measure for his becoming an infidel. . . . Who would not under such circumstances? There is a feature regarding a new country that is, a country that lays toward the western portion of the great central valley, that is always questioned, and is ever a source for knockers. But we should explain one thing that might be of benefit to those who would go west to settle and de- velop with hopes of success. And this is rainfall. In this country of our story, which lay near the line where central time is changed to mountain time, near the fifth principal meridian the altitude is about 2000 feet above the level of the sea, and the rainfall may be estimated accordingly. Rainfall is governed by altitude and is a feature beyond THE COMING OF THE RAILROAD 99 discussion. This is a very serious matter, and could multi- tudes of people going west to take homesteads, or settle, be impressed with the facts and know then what to expect, much grief could be avoided. But unfortunately this is not so. Ma**es can be con- vinced were convinced in the country of our story, and all the west beyond, in other parts, that rainfall was gov- erned by cultivation. An erroneous idea! As has been stated, rainfall is governed by elevation: air pressures are such that when in contact with the heavy air due to the lower elevation, thunder showers and general rains fall more frequently on the whole and this can be certified by the record of any weather bureau, comparing the elevation to the amount of precipitation over a given period, say five or ten years. It is a fact, however, that in the most arid dis- tricts cloudbursts do occur, but they are always a detriment to the parts over which they may fall. And it is also true that in a given year or season, more rain may fall over a certain arid district than some well cultivated portion in a country where the fall of rain is beyond question. Because of these contending features, many portions of the country have received a boom one season and failed to produce the next. When one year had proven exceedingly wet, the theory was that the whole climatic origin of the country had changed ; drought had pa**ed forever, and people and capital flowed in to sometimes go out, broken and shattered in spirits, hopes and finances later. Such in- stances hurt and hinder a country instead of helping it. If, in coming to the country of our story the ma**es of people could have understood that at an elevation of from two thousand to twenty-two hundred feet, the rainfall over a period of ten years would approximate an average of twenty-five inches annually, it is reasonable to suppose that ioo THE HOMESTEADER they would expect dry years and wet years ; some cold win- ters and some fair, open winters; some cloudbursts and some protracted droughts. But when the first years of set- tlement were accompanied by heavy rains, the boom that followed is almost beyond our pen to detail. From over all the country people came hither ; people with means, for it was the land of opportunity. The man who was in many cases wealthy in older portions of the country, had come there with next to and very often with nothing and had grown rich not by any particular ability or concen- trated effort on the part of himself ; not by the making and saving, investing and profiting, but because in the early days the land was of such little value and brought so little when offered for sale that it had been a case of staying thereon ; result, riches came in the advance later in the price accord- ing to demand. Such was not the circumstances altogether in the land where Jean Baptiste had cast his lot in the hope for ultimate success. While opportunity was ripe, a few thousands had been expedient. For what could be had for a small amount here would have cost a far greater amount back east. But while land was selling and selling readily the country would and could not maintain its possible quota of development without railroad facilities. This question, therefore, was of the most urgent anxiety. When would the railroad be extended out of Bonesteel westward? At Bonesteel they said never. Others, somewhat more liberal said it might be extended in twenty years. They argued that since it had taken that many years after Bonesteel had been started be- fore the company placed their tracks there, the same would in all probability hold with regards to the country and the towns west. So be it. The promoters of the town of Dallas argued that it would THE COMING OF THE RAILROAD 101 not be extended from Bonesteel at all; that when it was extended, it would come up the valley from the town some miles below Bonesteel, where the tracks lifted to the high- lands. Meaning, of course that Dallas would be the only town in the newly opened portion of the country to get the railroad. Jean Baptiste and Bill had seeded all the land that was under cultivation on Baptiste's property, and were well under way of breaking what was left unbroken, when Baptiste was offered a proposition that looked good to him. It was 200 acres joining his place near Stewart's, the property of an Indian, the allotee having recently expired. Under a ruling of the Department of the Interior, an Indian cannot dispose of an allotment under twenty-five years from the time he is alloted. This ruling is dissatisfactory to the In- dian ; for, notwithstanding all the roles in which he is char- acterized in the movies and dramas as the great primitive hero, brave and courageous, the people of the West who are surrounded with red men, and know them, know that they wish to sell anything they might happen to possess as soon as selling is possible. Therefore, when one happens to ex- pire, leaving his land to his heirs who can thereupon sell, dispose, give away or do what they may wish with the land, as long as it accords with the dictates of the Indian agent, the tract of land in question can be expected to pa** into other hands forthwith. The two hundred acres offered Jean Baptiste was con- venient to his land, and was offered at twenty dollars per acre. Other lands about had sold as high as thirty dollars the acre. A thousand dollars down and a thousand dollars a year until paid was the bargain, and he accepted it, paying over the thousand, which was the last of the money he had brought from the East with him. 102 THE HOMESTEADER This was before something happened that turned the whole country into an orgy of excitement. A few days after this one of the long rainy periods set in, and the little town was overrun with homesteaders, agreeing that the land that was broken was acting to their advantage: bringing all the good rains, and drought would never be again. Then one day a man brought the news. The surveyors were in Bonesteel. It was verified by others, and really turned out to be true. The surveyors being in Bonesteel was an evident fact that the railroad would follow the high- lands and would not come up the valley, and that settled Dallas as a town. It was doomed before a stake was set, and here pa**es out of our story, in so far as a railway in its present location was concerned. But whatever route a railroad took, it meant that the value to a homestead by the extension of the railroad would approximate to exceed ten dollars per acre. And Jean Baptiste now owned five hun- dred and twenty acres. * Since the work now in breaking the extra two hundred acres was before him, and was more than three miles from his homestead, he sought more convenience, by determining to approach the Stewarts with a request to board him. It was a rainy day, when he called, only to find Jack Stewart out, while George and Bill were tinkering about the barn. They had not been informed of his purchase. " Oh, it is you Mr. Baptiste," cried Agnes upon open- ing the door in response to his knock. " Come right in." " Where's the governor ? " he inquired when seated. " Search me," she laughed. " Papa's always out, rain or shine." " Busy man." " Yes. Busy but never gets anything by it, apparently." THE COMING OF THE RAILROAD 103 She was full of humor, her eyes twinkled. He was also. It was a day to be grateful. Rainfall, though it bring delay in the work, such days always are appreciated in a new country. It made those there feel more confident. " Lots of rain." " Yes. I suppose you are glad," she said interestedly. " Well, I should be." " We are, too. It looks as if, should this keep up, we will really raise a crop." " Oh, it'll keep up," he said cheerfully, confidently. " It always rains in this country." " How optimistic you are," she said, regarding him ad- miringly. " Thanks." She smiled then and bit her lip. " How's your neighbors across the road ? I've never be- come acquainted with them." " Their name is Prescott. I don't know much about them ; but papa has met them." " How many of them? " " Three. The man and wife and a son." "A son?" " M-m." " How old is he a young man ? " " M-m." He smiled mischievously. " Oh, it will be great," and she laughed amusedly. " He farms with his parents ? " " I don't think so. He has rented a few acres on the place north of us. Don't seem to be much force." " You should wake him up." "Humph!" " My congratulations," irrelevantly. 104 THE HOMESTEADER " Please don't. He's too ugly, too lazy ; loves nothing but a stallion he owns, and is very uninteresting." " Indeed ! " Suddenly he jumped up. " I have forgotten that I came to see your dad." " I can't say when papa will be home," she answered, going toward the door and looking out. " I wanted to see him regarding a little business about boarding. I wonder if he could board me?" " He'll be home about noon, anyhow." "That won't be so long, now," said he, regarding the clock. " So you are tired of baching," she said with a little twinkle of the eyes. " Oh, baching? Before I started/ But that is not what has expedited my wishing to board. I bought some more land. Couple hundred acres of that dead Indian land over south." "You did!" " Why, yes." He did not understand her exclamation. " Oh, but you are such a wonderful man, and to be such a young man ! " She was not aware of the intimacy in her reference, and spoke thoughtfully, as if to herself more than to him. He was flattered, and didn't know how to reply. " You are certainly deserving of the high esteem in which you are held throughout the community," and still she was as if speaking to herself, and thoughtful. He could not shut out at once the vanity she had aroused in him. He wished to appear and to feel modest about it, however. After all, he had most of the other land to pay for, which, nevertheless, gave him no worry. His confi- dence was supreme. He continued silent while she went on: THE COMING OF THE RAILROAD 105 " It must be wonderful to be a young man and to be so courageous ; to be so forceful and to be admired." " Oh, you flatter me." " No ; I do not mean to. I am speaking frankly and what I feel. I admire the qualities you are possessed with. I read a great deal, and when I see a young man like you going ahead so in the world, I think he should be en- couraged." How very frankly, and considerately she had said it all. His vanity was gone. He saw her as the real Agnes. He saw in her, moreover, that which he had always longed for in his race. How much he would have given to have heard those words uttered by a girl of his blood on his trips back East. But, of course the West was foreign to them. They could not have understood as she did. But the kindness she had shown had its effect. He could at least admire her openly for what she was. He spoke now. " I think you are very kind, Miss Stewart. I can't say when any one has spoken so sensibly to me as you have, and you will believe me when I say that such shall never be for- gotten." He paused briefly before going on. " And it will always be my earnest wish that I shall prove worthy of such kind words." He stopped then, for in truth, he was too overcome with emotion, and could not trust himself to go on. She stood with her back to him, and could he have seen her eyes he would also have observed tears of emotion. They were honest tears. She had spoken the truth. She admired the man in Jean Baptiste, and she had not thought of his color in speaking her conviction. But withal she felt strangely that her life was linked in some manner with this man's. Her father's appearance at this moment served to break 106 THE HOMESTEADER the silent embarra**ment between them, the embarra**ment that had come out of what she had said. They settled with regards to his boarding with them, and a few minutes later he took his leave. As he was pa**ing out, their eyes met. Never had they appeared so deep; never before so soft. But in the same he saw again that which he had seen before and as yet could not understand. CHAPTER XIV THE ADMINISTRATING ANGEL NEVER before since Jean Baptiste had come West and staked his lot and future there, doing his part to- ward the building of that little empire out there in the hollow of God's hand, had he worked so hard as he did in the days that followed that summer. When the rains for a time ceased and the warm, porous soil had dried suffi- ciently to permit a return to the fields, from early morn until the sun had disappeared in the west late afternoons, did he labor. Observation with him seemed to be inherent. Ever since he had played as a boy back in old Illinois he had been deeply sensitive with regards to his race. To him, notwithstanding the fact that he realized that less than fifty years had pa**ed since freedom, they appeared even con- sidering their adverse circumstances to progress rather slowly. He had not as yet come fully to appreciate and understand why they remained always so poor; always the serf ; always in the position to gain so little but withal to suffer so much! Oh, the anguish it had so often given him! His being in the West had come of an ulterior purpose. It has been stated that he was a keen observer. While so he had cultivated also the faculty of determination. By now it had became a sort of habit, a sort of second nature as it were. But there were certain things he could not seem to get away from. For instance: It seemed to him that the most difficult task he had ever encountered was to convince the average colored man that the Negro race could ever be anything. In after years he understood more fully why this 107 io8 THE HOMESTEADER was but we deal with the present ; those days when Jean Baptiste with a great ambition was struggling to " do his bit" in the development of the country of our story. He struggled with these problems at times until he became fatigued ; not knowing that he could never understand until the time came for him to. When he dined late one afternoon and found himself alone with Agnes, he spoke of being tired. " You work too hard, Jean," she said, kindly. "Perhaps so," he admitted. "And, still, the way I choose to see that is, that I'll not know the difference this time next year." " That is quite possible/' she agreed thoughtfully. " But your case is this, I think. You seem inspired by some high compulsion; some infinite purpose in the way you work, and in your mind this is so uppermost that you forget the limit of your physical self." She paused and gazed at the knife she held. Her mind appeared to deliberate, and he wondered at her deep logic. What a really mindful person she was, and still but a girl. " I cannot help thinking of you and your effort here," she resumed, " and if I was asked, I would advise you to ex- ercise more discretion in regard to yourself. To labor as you do, without regard to rain, sun, or time, is not prac- tical. It would be very sad if, in conducting yourself as you do, something should happen to you before you had quite fulfilled that to which you are aspiring not to ac- complish altogether, but to demonstrate." " You seem to have such a complete understanding of everything, Agnes," he said. " You appear to see so much deeper than the people I have met, to look so much beneath the surface and read what is there. I cannot always un- derstand you." He paused while she continued in that THE ADMINISTRATING ANGEL 109 thoughtful manner as if she had not heard what he said. " Now in your remark of a moment ago, you so defined a certain thing I would like to tell you. . . . But I shall not now. The instance is always so much in my mind that indeed, I lose sense of physical endurance; I lose sight of everything but the one object. It is not that I care so much for the fruits of my labor; but if I could actually succeed, it would mean so much to the credit of a multitude of others. Others who need the example. . . ." He paused and thought of his race. The individual here did not count so much, it was the cause. His race needed examples ; they needed instances of successes to overcome the effect of igno- rance and an animal viciousness that was prevalent among them. In this land, for instance, which had been advertised from one end of the country to the other; this land where four hundred thousand acres of virgin soil had been opened to the settler, he was about the only one of that race who had come hither, or paid the instance any attention. Such examples of neglected opportunity stood out clearly, and were recorded ; and the record would give his race, claiming to be discriminated against, no credit. . . . Such examples of obliviousness to what was around them would be hard to explain away. So in his ambitious youth, Jean Baptiste's dream was to own one thousand acres of land. He was now twenty- three and possessed half that much. He conjectured that he could reach the amount by the time he was thirty providing nothing serious happened to retard him. . . . He had finished his meal and was ready to go back to that little place over the hill. The girl who had made proof on the homestead he had purchased, had lived four- teen months alone in a little sod house her father had built for her in which he now had his bed. She had come of a no THE HOMESTEADER prosperous family in the East. She had come hither and put in the time, and the requirements, and had sold the land that he had bought at a good profit to herself. Such in- stances were common in that country, so common indeed, that little was thought of it. In his trips back East when Baptiste told of such opportunities, he was not taken seri- ously. The fact that the wealth of the great Central Valley was right at their door ; that from the production there they purchased the food they ate; that sheep were raised whose wool was later manufactured into the very clothes they wore, had no meaning to them. And always he felt dis- couraged when he returned from a visit among them. He had never seen Agnes so serious as she was that night. She arose and followed him to the door, and stood with him a moment before he left. Her eyes were tired and she appeared worried. He became possessed with an impulse to shake her hand. She seemed to sense his desire, and as he stepped out into the night, she extended it. He grasped and held it briefly. He whispered goodnight to her, and as he went through the yard and out into the road, she watched him from the open door until he was out of sight. Jean Baptiste thought he had secured a bargain in a team he had purchased a week before, and, from all appearances he had. For, after working them a week, he found them model horses apparently. As stated, he slept in the little sod house on the place near Stewart's, and also had a barn there in which he kept his horses while working. The morning following the conversation with Agnes, just related, he went out to curry and feed this team along with the other horses, and received a kick that was almost his ending. Right at the temple one spiked him, and he knew no more for hours. " I wonder why Jean is so late," said Agnes, going to the THE ADMINISTRATING ANGEL m window and gazing up the road. He was a hardy eater and the fact that he was late for breakfast was unusual. They waited a while longer and then ate without him. Bill who had been to care for his horses at the place before break- fast, reported that he had seen Baptiste go into the barn. So he had arisen, that was sure ; but why had he not come for his meal? The subject was dismissed by all except Agnes, who was strangely uneasy. " Bill," said she, " see what is the matter with your boss when you go over, and tell him to come to breakfast." Bill had no difficulty ascertaining, and returned quickly with the news. "I knew it!" exclaimed Agnes, excitedly. "I just felt that something was the matter," whereupon she got into a light coat and followed her father and brothers to where he lay outside the barn door, bleeding freely from the temple. They carried him into their house, and were cheered to see that the blood had ceased to flow. His head was bandaged while Bill went for Doc. Slater, who pronounced the wound serious but not fatal. He awakened later in the day and called for water. It was brought him forth- with by Agnes. When he had drunk deeply and lay back weakly upon the pillow, he heard: " How do you feel, Jean ? " He looked around in the semi-darkness of the room, and upon seeing her, sighed before answering. When he did it was a groan. She came quickly to where he lay and bent over him. " Jean," she repeated softly, tenderly. " How do you feel ? Does your head pain you much ? " " Where am I ? " he said, turning his face toward her. She put her hand lightly over his bandaged head. 112 THE HOMESTEADER "You're here, Jean. At Stewart's. You are hurt, do you understand ? " "Hurt?" he repeated abstractedly. "Yes, hurt, Jean. You were kicked on the temple by one of your horses." " Is that so ? " and he suddenly sat up in the bed. " Careful, careful," she cried, excitedly, pushing him gently back upon the pillow. He was silent as if in deep thought, while she waited eagerly. Presently she said in a low voice: "Do you feel hurt badly, Jean?" " I don't know." He raised his hand to his head as if trying to think more clearly. She caught his hands and held them as if trying to estimate his pulse, to see if he had any fever. " How did you come to get kicked, Jean ? " she asked, speaking in the same low tone. " I don't know. When I opened the barn door I had a vision of one of the horses moving and I knew no more." " You must be very careful and not start the bleeding again," she advised. " You bled considerably." " And you say I am at your house. At where I board ? " " Yes, Jean." He turned and stared at her, and for the first time seemed to be himself. He closed his eyes a moment as if to shut out something he did not wish to see. " And you have me here and are caring for me ? " " We brought you here and are caring for you, Jean," she repeated. " It is singular," said he. "What is singular?" " That you have twice happened to be where you can THE ADMINISTRATING ANGEL 113 serve me when I am injured or in danger." She was silent. She didn't know how to answer, or that there was to be any answer. " Has a doctor been here ? " " Yes/' " What did he seem to think of it? " " He said your wound was serious, but not fatal." " Did he say I could get up soon ? " " He didn't say, Jean ; but I don't think it would be wise." He groaned. " Now you must be patient and not fret yourself into a fever,'* she said seriously. " But I have so much work to do." " That will have to wait. Your health is first," she said firmly. " But the work should be done," he insisted. " But you must consider your health before you can even think about the work." He groaned again. She was thoughtful. She was con- siderate, and she could see that he would worry about his work and injure himself or risk fever. " I'll speak to papa, and perhaps George can take your place for a few days, a week or until you can get out." " You are so kind, Agnes," he said then. " You are al- ways so thoughtful. I don't know how I can accept all you do for me." " Please hush don't mention it." She arose and pres- ently returned with her father. " Ah-ha," he always greeted. " So you've come to. Thought something would show up in that ' bargain/ " " Please don't, father," admonished Agnes, f rowningly. " I'll look after everything while you are down, old man/' THE HOMESTEADER said Stewart. "I'll start the horses you've been working this afternoon. Aggie has explained everything. I un- derstand." " I'm so thankful," he said, then closing his eyes, and a few minutes later had fallen asleep. CHAPTER XV OH, MY JEAN! WHEN JACK STEWART left Indiana, and left owing the two hundred dollars which was secured by a chattel mortgage on his horses, he failed to do something he now had cause to regret. The man to whom he owed this money agreed to give him one year in which to pay it, but didn't renew the mortgage. He was a close friend of Jack's, and there had been no worry. But the man died; his affairs fell into the hands of an adminis- trator, whose duties were to clean up, to realize on all due and past due matter. And because the note of Jack Stew- art's was due and past due, the extension being simply a verbal one, the administrator wrote Jack demanding that he take up his note at once. We know the circumstances of Jack Stewart; that be- cause Jean Baptiste had hired his son Bill, and now was boarding with them, he was able to get along; but Jack Stewart had nothing with which to pay $200 notes. . . . So while Jean Baptiste was recovering from his illness, Jack Stewart had cause to be very much worried Possessed, however, with a confidence, Jack took the matter up with the banker in the town where he received his mail. Now a common saying in a new country is: " I'm going to borrow five dollars and start a bank. . . ." Inferring that while there is, as a whole, an abundance of banks in a new country, they do not always have the where- 115 Ii6 THE HOMESTEADER withal to loan. What they have is usually retained for the accommodation of their regular patrons, and they were un- able to accommodate Jack, even had they wished to do so. Now, he could have secured the money had he been a claimholder or a land owner. But Jack, being neither, found himself in a bad plight. He had Aggie write a long letter in which he tried to explain matters, and re- quested until fall to pay, as had been verbally agreed upon. But the cla** of people in the old East who regard the new West as a land of impossibilities, where drought burns all planted crops to crisp, where gra**hoppers eat what is left, who still regard those who would stake their fortunes and chances in the West as fools, were not all dead. The administrator happened to be one of this kind. He had no confidence in the country Jack wrote about, the crops he had planted; what he expected to reap, and no patience withal into the bargain. So he wrote Jack a brief letter, and also one to the bank in the town, sending the papers with it at the same time, with instructions to fore- close at a given time. And when Jack knew more of it, he was confronted with paying the note in thirty days or having his horse taken, and sold at auction. Jean Baptiste recovered, went back to his work, and noticed that Jack Stewart and Agnes were much worried; but, of course, didn't understand the cause of it. " Have you tried elsewhere, father ? " said Agnes when they had gotten the notice giving them thirty days' grace. " But I am not known, dear. There is not much money in a new country, and it is very difficult to get credit where there is nothing to lend." " There must be some way to avoid this. Oh, that man, why couldn't he be reasonable ! " " It is always bad when one has to write. If I were OH, MY JEAN! 117 back in Indiana I could go and see this man and reason it out, but when a thousand miles is between us it's bad ! " "If we could have only just three months." " Two months," he exclaimed. The days that followed were days of grave anxiety, of nervous anticipation for them. There was but one person they could turn to at such a time, and that was Jean Bap- tiste. Agnes thought of him, she started to speak with her father regarding him, but in the end did not bring herself to do so. So the time went on, and the thirty days became twenty ; and the twenty fell to ten ; and the ten fell to five, and then Jean Baptiste could bear their worry no longer without speaking. " You and your father have been very kind to me, Agnes, and I can see you are greatly worried about something. If I could help you in any way, I would be glad to do so." She was so near to crying when she heard this that she had much difficulty keeping back the tears. But she man- aged to say: " Why, it's nothing serious. Just a little matter, that's all," and she went into her room. He pondered. It was more than that. Of this he was sure. He left the house and came around to where Jack sat, and was moved by his expression. But Jack would say nothing. He could not understand. He tried to dismiss the subject from his mind, and so came Sunday, the day of days. He was walking from his meal to his place to look over his crops, when from up the road he caught the sound of buggy-wheels. Two men, driving a single horse hitched to a light buggy were coming his way. When they caught sight of him, they hurried the animal forward slightly by n8 THE HOMESTEADER touching him up with the whip, and beckoned to him to stop. Presently they drew up to where he stood and he recognized one as a homesteader, and having a claim near and the other as a professional dealer in horses. They exchanged greet- ings and some remarks about the weather and crops, and then the trader said : " By the way, Jean, where does that old Scotchman live : out this way ? The old fellow who moved out here recently from Indiana?" " That's the place there," and Baptiste pointed to the top of the house that could just be seen from where they stood. "I see," said the other thoughtfully. "Wonder where that dappled gray mare he owns is grazing. I'd like to take a look at 'er." " I think you will see her grazing in the pasture," said Baptiste curiously. " How what kind of animal is it? " " Why, she's a hum-dinger," returned Baptiste more curi- ously. His curiosity aroused the other, who, looking at him said: " Well, you see the old man is to be sold out foreclosed, and I thought I'd take a look at his stuff and if I thought there was anything in it, I might save the old scout the humiliation by buying it." " T' hell you say ! " exclaimed Baptiste. " Oh, yes. Hadn't you heard about it? " " This is my first knowledge of it." "Yes, the sheriff's coming to get the stuff Tuesday that is, providing the old man don't come across with a couple of hundred before that time, and it is not likely he can, I don't think." " Well, well ! " Baptiste exclaimed, thinking of the worry OH, MY JEAN! 119 he had observed in the faces of Agnes and her father, and at last beginning to understand. " Yes, it's rather bad, that. But this follows the old gent from where he comes, and he is not known here, so I guess I'll mosey along and take a look at the stuff just a glance at it from the road, you understand. And if things look good, I'll drop by 'n see him later." Whereupon they went their way cheerfully, while Baptiste resumed his, thought- fully. He returned to his house by a roundabout way, and, later, hitching a team to a light buggy, he drove into the town where Jack traded and looked up the banker. " Say, Brookings," he opened, " what kind of deal is the old Scotchman up against out there? You understand." " Oh, yes ! " exclaimed the cashier. " The old man out there on the Watson homestead! Well, it seems like the old fellow stands a good chance of being sold out." He then explained to Baptiste regarding the note and the cir- cumstances. " That don't look just right to me," muttered Baptiste when he had heard the circumstances. " Well, now, it isn't right. But what can be done ? " " Can't you loan the old man the money ? " " I could ; but I don't like letting credit to strangers and renters. If he could get a good man on his note I'd fix it out for him, since we've just received quite a sum for de- posit." " Well, if I should go it," said Baptiste suggestively. The other looked quickly up. " Why, you ! Gee, I'd take care of him for ten times the amount if you'd put your ' John Henry ' on the note." " Well, I'll be in town early in the morning," said Bap- tiste, turning to drive away. 120 THE HOMESTEADER " All right, Jean. Sure ! I'll look for you." The day was bright and lovely for driving, and Baptiste drove to his homestead, and from there to the Reynolds' where he had dinner and visited late. The next morning he went to the town, and when Jack Stewart, exhausted by the strain of worry under which he was laboring, came into town, having decided to try and sell the mare and one of the other horses, thereby leaving him only one with which to complete the cultivating of his corn and the reaping of his crops, he was called into the bank. " Now if you'll just sign this, Mr. Stewart," said Brook- ings, " you can have until December first on that stuff." " You mean the note ! " the old man exclaimed, afraid to believe that he had heard aright. " Yes, the note that is about to be foreclosed. You've been granted an extension." Jack Stewart was too over- come to attempt to comment. The realization that he was to be allowed to go on and not be sold out or be forced to dispose of his little stock at such a critical time, was too much for words. He caught up the pen, steadied his nerves, and wrote his name, not observing that the banker held a blotter over the lower line of the note. Jean Baptiste had cautioned him to do this. In view of the circumstances he had not wished Stewart or Agnes to know that he had gone en the note. Jack Stewart hurried home in a fever of excitement. He could not get there fast enough. He thought of Agnes, he did not wish her to have a minute more grief than what she had endured. He reached home and stumbled into the house, and to Agnes he said : " Oh, girl, girl, girl ! They have extended the note ! The sheriff is not coming ! We are saved, saved, saved ! " He was too overcome with emotion and joy then to proceed. OH, MY JEAN! 121 He sank into a chair, while Agnes, carried away with ex- citement over the news, caressed him; said words of love and care until both had been exhausted by their own emo- tions. When they at last became calm, she turned to her father who now walked the floor in great joy. " How did they come to extend the note, father ? '' " Why why, dear, that had never occurred to me ! I became so excited when they told me that I had been granted an extension, I can only recall that I signed the note and almost ran out of the bank. The man had to call me back to give me my old note and mortgage. I don't know why they granted the extension." He stood holding his chin now and looking down at the floor as if trying to understand after all how it happened. Then his eyes opened suddenly wide. " Why, and, do you know, now, since I come to think of it, they did not take a new mortgage on the stock." " I don't believe that the administrator had anything to do with it," she said after a time. " I know that man. He would sell his mother out into the streets. Now I wonder who has influenced the bank into giving us this time. . . ." " Bless me, dear lord. But right now I am too tickled to try to think who. To be saved is enough all at once. Later, I shall try to figure out who has been my benefactor." And with this he left the house and went to walk with his joy in the fields where George was plowing corn, unconscious of the fact that the team he was driving was to have been seized on the morrow and sold for debt. " Now I wonder who saved papa/' Agnes said to herself, taking a seat by the window and gazing abstractedly out into the road. She employed her wits to estimate what had brought it about, and as she sat there, Jean Baptiste came driving down the road. He had not been there since break- 122 THE HOMESTEADER fast the morning before. He had taken his morning's meal at the restaurant in the town. As he drove down the slope that began above the house wherein she sat, his dark face was lighted with a peaceful smile. He drove leisurely along, concerned with the bright prospects of his four hun- dred acres of crop. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he pa**ed on by without seeing Agnes at the window ; without even looking toward the house. Upon seeing him Agnes had for the moment forgotten what she was thinking about. But when he had pa**ed by, she was suddenly struck with an inspiration. She jumped quickly to her feet: She raised her hands to her breast and held them there as if to still a great excitement, as she cried : " Jean ! Jean, Jean Baptiste ! It was you, you, who did it. It was you who saved my father, saved me; saved us all! Oh, my Jean!" She was overcome then with a great emotion. She sank slowly upon a chair. And as she did so sobs broke from her lips and she wept long and silently. CHAPTER XVI BILL PRESCOTT PROPOSES SUMMERTIME over the prairie country; summertime when the rainfall has been abundant, is a time of happiness to all settlers in a new land. And such a summer it was in the land of our story. God had been unusually kind to the settlers; he had blessed them with abundant moisture; with sunshine, not too warm and not too cold. The railroad was under course of construction and would be completed far enough west for the settlers from the most remote part from the farthest corner of the reservation to journey with their grain or hogs, chickens or cattle to it and return to home the same day. And now the fields which had been seeded to winter wheat had turned to gold. Only a few thousand acres had been sowed over the county, and of this amount one hundred thirty acres grew on the homestead of Jean Baptiste. The season for its growth had been ideal, and the prospects for a bumper yield was the best. Ripe now, and ready to cut, the air was filled with its aroma. He had brought a new self-binder from Gregory which now stood in the yard ready for action, its various colors green, red, blue and white, resplendent in the sunlight. So now we see Jean Baptiste the cheerful, Jean Baptiste the hopeful, with hopes in a measure about realized; Jean Baptiste the Ethiopian in a country where he alone was black. He whistles at times, he sings, he is merry, cheery and gay. 123 124 THE HOMESTEADER But while Jean Baptiste was happy, cheerful and gay, there was in him what has been, what always will be that which makes us appreciate the courage that is in some men. Bill Prescott, from the first day he had seen Agnes, had considered a match between her and himself a suggestive proposition. Bill Prescott might be referred to as a " fea- ture." He was not so fortunate as to have been born hand- some, and could not be called attractive. He had not, more- over, improved the situation by cultivation of wit, of art or pride. The West had meant no more to him than had the East, the South or the West Indies, for that matter. Because Bill had no homestead, no deeded land, and had not tried to get any. His wealth consisted of a few horses, among which, an old, worn out, bought-on-credit-stallion, was his pride. Of this stallion Bill talked. He told of his pedigree, tracing him back almost to the Ark. He was fond of to- bacco, was Bill Prescott; he chewed, apparently, all the time. He had lost his front teeth; wore his thin hair long, and upon his small head a hat, oiled to the point where its age was a matter for conjecture. He had apparently appreciated that the wind blew outrageously over those parts at times, and, therefore, had hung a leather string to his hat which he pulled down over the back of his head to hold his hat in place. This succeeded in f rumpling the long, thin hair and kept it in a dishevelled condition. Now Bill had been a frequent caller at the Stewarts' home since they had come West. He did not always take the trouble to remove his hat when inside. That he was fond of Agnes was apparent, and smiled always upon seeing her, and at such times showed where his front teeth had been but where tobacco more frequently now was, with lazy de- light. BILL PRESCOTT PROPOSES 125 He called this day wearing a clean, patched jumper over his cotton shirt. When once inside, sprawling his legs be- fore him, and while Jack Stewart worked in the sun out- side, repairing harness, he said to Agnes: " Well, old girl, how'd you like to marry ? " Agnes changed color a few times before she could decide whether to answer or not. In the meantime, patient and in no hurry, Bill grinned with pleasure at the ease with which he had started ; showed tobacco where his teeth had been, and spat a pound of juice, with plenty of drippings trailing out the window by which she sat. It made considerable argument getting through the screen, but succeeded finally most of it, the remainder, clung, hesitated, wavered, and finally giving up, dripped slowly to the ledge below. " Dog-gone, myself," said Bill, getting up heavily from his chair, and going to the window and thumping it lightly, whereupon the hesitant amber, dashed in many directions about. Agnes had observed it all with calm disgust. Bill, however, not the least perturbed over his apparent breach of impropriety, became reseated, and resumed: "Well?" She turned her eyes slowly toward him, surveyed him coldly, and continued at her sewing. Bill muttered something. She regarded him again with cold disdain. " Haw, haw ! " he laughed loudly. " You don't pretend t' hear me, haw ! haw ! Then I guess you're stuck on that n******g you got a hangin' round here." " Will you go ! " she cried, as she quickly jumped to her feet and swung open the door. She controlled herself with considerable effort. " Oh, ho ! So that's the way you treat a white man and honor a d n n******g ! " And with that he dashed out I 2 6 THE HOMESTEADER and pa**ed to where the senior worked away over his har- ness. Jack Stewart saw and heard Bill approaching with- out looking up. He greeted : " Ah-ha, William. And how are you today ? " Bill was struck with a sudden inspiration. In his way he really liked Agnes, and it was all settled in his mind to wed her. He realized now that he had rather bungled mat- ters, and thereupon decided to exercise a little more discre- tion. So, choking down the anger that was in him, and swallowing a bit of tobacco juice at the same time, he said to Stewart. " Good morning ! Ah, by the way, Jack, I'd like to marry Agnes." So saying, he was pleased with himself again, and spat tobacco juice more easily in the next squirt. Jack continued working at his harness. For the moment he did not appear to comprehend, but presently he raised his eyes with the old style gla**es before them, and surveyed Bill slowly. " You want to do what ? " he said, uncomprehendingly. " To marry Agnes," Bill repeated calmly. He paused, looked away, s**ed his soft mouth clean of amber and spat it tricklingly at Jack's feet, and looked up and at Jack with a wondrous smile. Now Jack Stewart was possessed with certain virtues. He did not smoke, chew, drink, swear nor shave. He was rather put out, but with considerable effort at self control he managed to say: " Well, if that's the way you feel about it, why don't you take it up with the girl?" Bill hesitated at this point, s**ed his mouth clear again of tobacco juice, cleared his throat, spat the juice, and, after a hasty glance toward the house, decided not to mention that he had spoken with Agnes. He replied : BILL PRESCOTT PROPOSES 127 " Well, I thought it best to speak to you, and if it's all right with you, it ought to be all right with the gal." Jack Stewart drew up, and then tried to relax. He did not think so much of Bill; but he did think the world of Agnes and wanted her respected by everybody. Moreover, he did not like to hear her " galled." He turned to Wil- liam ; he regarded him keenly, and then in a voice and words that were English, but accent that was very much Scotch, the which we will not attempt to characterize, he said : " You're a joke. Just a great, big joke." He paused briefly, and then continued : " I'd like to be patient with you; but honestly, with you it wouldn't pay. You are not worth it. And in so far as my girl any girl is concerned, I cannot imagine how you could even expect them to be interested." He paused and looked away, too full up to go ahead. In the meantime he heard Bill: " Is that so! '" " Is it so ! " cried Stewart with a touch of vehemence. " Gad ! See yourself. See how you go ! Don't you ob- serve what's around you close enough to see that girls want some sedateness ; they admire in some measure clever- ness, clothes, and well, manhood ! " " So I don't guess I have it ? " retorted William, sneer- ingly. " Oh, you bore me ! " Jack returned disgustingly. He bent to his work in an attempt to forget it. And then he again heard from Bill : " So that's the way yu' got it figgered out, eh ! " He drew his mouth tight shut. He gave another soft s** that drew his skin close to his gums, and with his tongue, he cleared his mouth and spat tobacco, juice and all in a soft lump at Stewart's feet and said in unconcealed anger : " So that's the way you got me figgered out ! And I want to say, now, I 2 8 THE HOMESTEADER that I don't think I want yer gal, anyhow. I'm a white man, I am. And what white man would want a gal that a n******g is allowed to hang aroun' and court ! " Jack Stewart was struck below the belt. He was fouled, and for a time everything went dark around him, he was so angry. He did not know that Jean Baptiste had saved him from losing his stock or being forced to sell them ; he had never connected Baptiste and Agnes as being other than friends, and friends they had a right to be. But Jack Stewart did regard Jean Baptiste as a gentleman and gentle- men he respected. His knockout therefore was brief. He soon recovered. He could not speak, he could not even stammer; but with a sudden twitch of the tug his hands held, he came away around with it, and the heavy leather took Bill fairly in the mouth, in the middle of the mouth. And then Jack got his voice, and ready for another swing ; but not before Bill found something, too. It was his feet. " You stinkin', low down, pup ! " cried Stewart, falling over from the force of the swing he had missed. " You trash of the sand hills! You tobacco chewin', ragga-muf- fin!" Getting his balance, and turning after William madly, he resumed : " You ornery, nasty, filthy, houn' ! If I get my han's on you, I swear t' God I'll k** you." But Bill Prescott now held the advantage. He was younger, and more fleet of foot; so therefore out ran Jack, who was left before he reached the gate, far to the rear, and Bill gained his side of the wide road with a safe lead. Jack finally came to a stop before getting off the premises with his blood boiling with such heat that he drew his hat off and beat himself with it. In the meantime, Agnes, who had witnessed the controversy from the gate, ventured out to where her father stood and taking him gently by the arm, she led him inside. BILL PRESCOTT PROPOSES 129 " My blood's up, my blood's up ! " Jack kept crying and repeating. " That stinkin', triflin' peace a nothin', has been gittin' smart. Tryin' to low rate me ; tryin' to low rate my girl. Insultin' Jean Baptiste ! Dang him, dang him ! " " Father, father ! " cried Agnes soothingly. " Did you hear'm ! Did you hear'm ! Why, the low down, good for nothin', I'm a good mind to go cross the road and skin him alive ! " " Father, father ! " begged Agnes. " Did you hear what he said," insisted the infuriated senior. " Yes, father," she confessed. " I heard him." " You did ! 'N that's worse ! " Whereupon he tore loose and threw up his arms in an angered gesture. " Now, papa," Agnes argued kindly. " I heard him, and what he said to you. He was in here and insul spoke to me before he went out there. ... I understand all about it. ... So you must simply be calm and forget it. That's all. . . ." " I don't care so much for myself, but that he should speak about you and Baptiste! I just wish Baptiste could have heard him and just beat the gosh danged manure right out of him." " Please be quiet, papa. Forget Bill Prescott and what he has tried to insinuate. . . . We understand him and what he is, and we understand Mr. Baptiste and what he is, so let us just think of other things." " Yes, Aggie, I suppose you're right. You always seem to be right. And I will try to forget it; but I'll say this much: If that ornery, lazy cuss ever crosses this road to my place again I'll thresh him within an inch of his life!" " You've agreed to forget it, father. . . ." 130 THE HOMESTEADER " I agree again ; but it's outrageous that he should say what he did about Jean Baptiste, now isn't it ? " " It is, father," she admitted with downcast eyes. " Of course it is. Never was there more of a gentleman in the world than Jean Baptiste." " Mr. Baptiste is a real gentleman," acknowledged Agnes again. " There never was, and he knows it, the pup ! " Agnes was strangely silent, which Jack, in his excitement overlooked. " And even if he should like my girl " "Father!" "Well?" "Oh, please hush!" " I will, Aggie," he said slowly. He bent forward pres- ently, folded her close, kissed her, and then placing his hat on his head, went back to his work.