CHAPTER XI
REVEREND McCARTHY PAYS A VISIT
"Well," said Baptiste to his wife, following the service of the summons."We're up against a long, irksome and expensive contest case." Under hisobservation had come many of such. Only those who have homesteaded orhave been closely related to such can in full appreciate the annoyance,the years of annoyance and uncertainty with which a contest case isfraught. Great fiction has been created from such; greater could be. Oh,the nerve racking, the bitterness and very often the sinister resultsthat have grown out of one person trying to secure the place of anotherwithout the other's consent. Murder has been committed times untold as asequel--but getting back to Jean Baptiste and his wife.
He was inclined to be more provoked than ordinarily, for the reason thatby sending his wife--at least taking her to the homestead, he knew hecould have avoided the contest. As a rule places are not contestedaltogether without a cause. He felt that it was--and it no doubtwas--due to his effort to farm his own land and assist his folks inholding their claims as well. He had discovered before he married Orleanthat she was likely to prove much unlike his sister, who possessed thestrength of her convictions, for she was on the clinging vine order.Being extremely childish, this was further augmented by a stream ofletters from Chicago, giving volumes of advice in regards to somethingthe advisors had not a very keen idea of themselves. He also wascautioned not to expose her. So she had, in truth only gone to herhomestead when taken by him, returning when he did as well. The factthat he had arranged in regards to the renting of his land the nextseason would be no evidence to assist him before the bar that would hearhis case.
The contest against his wife's homestead did not, of course alter hisplans in any way. He would continue along the lines he had started. Butthere were other things that came to annoy him at the same time. Chieflyamong these was his wife's father. Always there had to be some ado whenit came to him. He had reared his daughter, as before intimated, toconsider him of the world's greatest men--especially the Negro race's,and to avoid friction, Baptiste came gradually to see that he wouldalmost have to be beholden unto this creature in whom he was positivelynot very deeply interested.
N. Justine McCarthy's accomplishments were of a nature which Baptistewould rather have avoided. The fact that he had been a Presiding Elderin one of the leading denominations of Negro churches out of which hemanaged to filch about a thousand a year, was in a measure foreign tohis son-in-law. And the Reverend was not an informed or practical man.
The truth was that all the pretensions made to the Elder, flattering himinto feeling he was a great man, Jean Baptiste came to regard as adeliberate fawning to flatter an extreme vanity. Far from being evenpractical, N.J. McCarthy was by disposition, environment andcultivation, narrow, impractical, hypocritical, envious and spiteful. Asto how much he was so, not even did Jean Baptiste fully realize at thetime, but came to learn later from experience.
He was expected in early October. The hearing of the contest was toconvene a few days later, so as a greeting to his Majesty, he was to begiven an opportunity to see Orlean on the stand and mercilessly grilledby non-sentimental lawyers. Baptiste was appreciative of what mightresult, and wished the visit could have been deferred for a while.
Another source of irritation continually, was Ethel's letters, and hiswife's nervousness over the child that was to come. For the first timein her life she had been disobedient. Secretly she had, after manymisgivings, fears and indecisions, brewed a tea from the weed as perEthel's prescription--but in vain! Later, the guilt, thenever-to-be-forgotten guilt; the unborn child that refused the poison,seemed to haunt her. And she could not tell her husband. But this wasnot all. Ethel's letters continued to come, filled with the same advice;the same suggestions; the same condemnation of motherhood--and she wascompelled to keep it all a hopeless secret from the man she had sworn tolove and obey.
One thing was agreed upon, they decided not to inform the Elder--atleast, in so far as Orlean was concerned, she left it to Jean, and Jean,with as many troubles as he cared for and more, to deal with, wasbecoming perceptibly irritant. So with this state of affairs prevailing,the Reverend finally arrived for his long anticipated visit.
The letter advising the day he would arrive did not happen to reach themin time to meet him. Accordingly, neither was at the station to greethim, but, recalling that Baptiste had spoken of the Freedom and nonarrow prejudices and customs to irk one, the Elder went forthwith tothe leading hotel in Gregory where he was accorded considerableattention as a guest. This indeed satisfied his vanity, and he wastaken much notice of by those about because of his distinguishedappearance. A fact that he seldom ever lost sight of.
But Baptiste happened to be in town that night on horseback, and whenthe train had come and gone, he inquired carelessly of a fellow he met,and who had come in on the train, if he had seen a colored man aboard.
"Yes," said the other. "An elderly man, very distinguished looking."
"My father-in-law!" ejaculated Baptiste, and went forthwith to the hotelto find his erstwhile compatriot very much at ease among those fillingthe place.
"And it's a great way to greet me," exclaimed the Reverend, cheerfully,upon seeing him. Baptiste made haste to explain that he had not beenaware of the day when he would arrive.
"Oh, that's all right, my son," said the other heartily. "And how isOrlean?"
"Fine! She'll be tickled to death to see you."
"And I her." The old gent was very cheerful. Such a trip was much tohim. A life spent among the simple black people to whom he preachedafforded little contrast compared with what was about him now. And,pompous by disposition, he was thrilled by the diversity. Baptistedecided thereupon to try to make his sojourn an agreeable one.
"Now, there is an old neighbor of mine in town with a buggy, and I'llsee him and figure to have him take you out with him, as I am in onhorseback."
"Very well," returned the Elder, and Baptiste went for the neighbor whohappened to be a German with a very conspicuous voice. He found him at asaloon where the old scout was pretty well "pickled" from imbibing toofreely in red liquor.
"Sure thing," he roared in his big voice when Baptiste stated hiserrand. "Bring him down here and I'll buy him a drink."
"But he's a preacher," cautioned Baptiste with a laugh.
"A preacher! Well, I'll be damned!" exclaimed the German, humorously.Whereupon he ordered drinks for the house, and two for himself. Baptistegrinned.
"I shall now depart," essayed the German, swaying not too steadilybefore the bar, and raising his glass, "to become sanctimonious andgood," and drained his glass. The crowd roared.
"Where is he?" called the German loudly, as he drew his team to a stopbefore the hotel. Baptiste got out, went in and called to the Reverend.The other came forward quickly, carrying his bags and other accessories.
"Ah-ha!" roared the German from the buggy, sociably, "So there you are!"
"Why--Jean--the man is--drunk, is he not?" whispered the Elder.
"But he's alright--gets that way when he comes to town, but is perfectlysafe withal." The Reverend stood for a moment, regarding the otherdubiously.
"Come on, brother, and meet me!" called the German again in a voicesufficiently loud almost to awaken the dead.
"But, Jean," said the Reverend, lowly but apprehensively, "I don't knowwhether I want to ride with a drunken man or not."
Now it happened that the German's ears were very keen, and he overheardthe Elder's remark, so without ceremony, and while the Reverendhesitated on the pavement, the German who did not like to be referredto as drunk, roared:
"Ah-ha! Naw, naw, naw! You don't have to ride with me! Naw, naw, naw!"And turning his horses about, he went back to the saloon where his voicerang forth a minute later in a raucous tune as he unloaded anotherschooner.
The Reverend beat a hasty retreat back into the hotel, while Baptistecalled after him:
"I'll send Orlean for you in the morning," and went to look up hisneighbor who
had made himself so conspicuous.
* * * * *
"Well, now, if this doesn't beat all," cried the Reverend when he hadkissed his daughter the following morning and they were spinning alongthe road on the way to the farm. "I would never have believed threemonths ago had some one said you could and would be driving thesemules!"
"Oh, I have driven them fifty miles in a day--John!" she called suddenlyto the off mule who was given to mischievous tricks.
"Well, well," commented the Reverend, "but it certainly beats all."
She was cheered and pleased to demonstrate what she had learned. Theysailed along the country side in the autumn air, and talked of home,Ethel, her mother, Glavis and Jean. They came presently to Baptiste'shomestead and viewed with great delight the admirable tract of land thatstretched before them. She talked on cheerfully and told her father allthat had passed, of how happy they were, but said nothing about herprospects of becoming a mother. When they had passed her husband'shomestead and were nearing a corner where they must turn to reach thehouse in which they were living, they passed an automobile carrying twomen. They bowed lightly and the men returned it. When they had gottenout of hearing distance, one of the men whispered to the other:
"That's her!"
'Gene Crook thereupon turned and looked after the retreating figure ofthe girl in the buggy whose place he had determined to secure throughsubtle methods. But not even 'Gene Crook himself conceived of theunusual circumstances that came to pass and brought him on a visit tothese selfsame people, later.