The Desert Fiddler
CHAPTER XVII
Early one morning in March Bob picked Noah Ezekiel Foster up at a lunchcounter where the hill billy was just finishing his fourth waffle.
"Want you to go out and look at two or three leases with me," saidRogeen as they got into the small car.
Bob had not lost his job with Crill over the Chandler loan. He wasstill lending the old gentleman's money and doing it without Mrs.Barnett's approval. But the widow had, he felt sure, done the moist,self-sacrificing, nagging stunt so persistently that her uncle hadcompromised by advancing much more money to Reedy Jenkins than safetyjustified. Crill had never mentioned the matter, but Bob knew Jenkinshad got money from somewhere, and there certainly was no one else inthe valley that would have lent it to him. For Reedy had managed topick his cotton and gin it at the new gin on the Mexican side, wherethe bales were still stacked in the yards.
"Why do you suppose," asked Bob as they drove south past the Mexicangin, "Jenkins has left his cotton over on this side all winter?" Bobhad formulated his own suspicions but wanted to learn what Noah Ezekielthought, for Noah picked up a lot of shrewd information.
"Shucks," said Noah, "it's so plain that a way-farin' man though acotton grower can see. He's kept it over there because he owes aboutthree hundred thousand dollars on the American side, and as quick as hetakes it across the line there'll be about as many fellows pullin' atevery bale as there are ahold of them overall pants you see advertised."
"But cotton is selling now; it was six cents yesterday," remarked Bob."At that he ought to have enough to pay his debts."
Noah Ezekiel snorted: "Reedy isn't livin' to pay his debts. He ain'thankerin' for receipts; what he wants is currency. His creditors onthe American side are layin' low, because they can't do anything else.Reedy put one over on 'em when he built this gin. He can hold hiscotton over here for high prices, and let them that he owes on theAmerican side go somewhere and whistle in a rain barrel to keep fromgettin' dry.
"As my dad used to say, 'The children of this world can give thechildren of light four aces and still take the jack pot with a pair ofdeuces.'"
Bob knew Noah was right. He had watched Jenkins pretty closely allwinter. Reedy had endeavoured to convince all his creditors, andsucceeded in convincing some, that he had not brought the cotton acrossthe line because there was no market yet for it. "It is costing usnothing to leave it over there, so why bring it across and have to paystorage and also lose the interest on the $25,000 Mexican export dutywhich we must pay when it is removed?"
"Noah," remarked Bob, as the little car bumped across the bridge overthe irrigation ditch, "I'm taking you out to see a Chinaman's lease.He has three hundred acres ready to plant and wants to borrow money toraise the crop. If you like the field and I like the Chinaman, I'mgoing to make the loan."
"Accordin' to my observation," remarked Noah, "a heathen Chinese hasabout all the virtues that a Christian ought to have, but ain'tregularly got.
"The other mornin' after I'd been to the Red Owl the night before, Ifelt like I needed a cup of coffee. I went round to a Chink that I'dnever met but two or three times, and says, 'John, I'm broke, will youlend me a hundred dollars?'
"That blasted Chink never batted an eye, never asked me if I owned anypersonal property subject to mortgage, nor if I could get three goodmen to go on my note. He just says, 'Surlee, Misty Foster,' and diveddown in a greasy old drawer and began to count out greenbacks. 'Here,'I says, 'if you are that much of a Christian, I ain't an all-firedheathen myself. Give me a dime and keep the change.'"
Bob smiled appreciatively. "I've seen things like that happen morethan once. And it is not because they are simple and ignorant either."
"You know," pursued Noah Ezekiel, "if I's Karniggy, I'd send a lot of'em out as missionaries."
They were at Ah Sing's ranch. The three-hundred-acre field was levelas a table, broken deep, thoroughly disked, and listed ready to water.The Chinaman, without any money or the slightest assurance he could getany for his planting, had worked all winter preparing the fields.
Ah Sing stood in front of his weed-and-pole shack waiting with thatstoical anxiety which never betrays itself by hurry or nervousness. Ifthe man of money came and saw fit to lend, "vellee well--if not, doeebest I can."
"You go out and take a look at the field," Bob directed Noah, "see ifthere is any marsh grass or alfalfa roots, and look over his waterditches while I talk to the Chinaman."
"Good morning, Ah Sing," he said, extending his hand.
"Good morning, Misty Rogee." The Chinaman smiled and gave the visitora friendly handshake. He was of medium height, had a well-shaped headand dignified bearing, and eyes that met yours straight. He lookedabout forty, but one never knows the age of a Chinaman.
"Nice farm, Ah Sing," Bob nodded approvingly at the well-plowed fields.
"He do vellee well." The Chinaman was pleased.
"And you have no money to make a crop?" Bob asked.
"No money," Ah Sing said, stoically.
"I heard last fall you had made a good deal of money raising cottonover here," suggested Bob.
"Me make some," admitted Ah Sing. "Workee vellee hard many year--makemaybe eighteen--twentee thousan'."
"What became of it, Ah Sing? Don't gamble, do you?"
The Chinaman shook his head emphatically, "Me no gamble.Gamble--nobody trust. Me pick cotton for Misty Jenkins."
Bob was interested in that. He knew that after raising Jenkins' cropAh Sing had taken the contract to pick it. Bob had heard other thingsbut not from the Chinaman. "Didn't you make some money on that, too?"
"No money."
"Why not?" Bob spoke quickly. "Tell me about it, Ah Sing."
The Chinaman sighed again and the long, long look came into his patientoriental eyes.
"Ah work in America ever since leetle boy--so high. After while I saveleetle money. Want go back China visit. I have cer-tificate. When Icome back, say it's no good. Put me in jail. Don't know why. Staylong time. Send me back China. Then I come Mexico. Can't cross line;say damn Mexican Chinaman. I raise cotton--I raise lettuce--makeleetle money. Maybee twent' thousan'.
"Misty Jenkins say 'Ah Sing, want pick my cotton?' I say, 'Maybee.'He say, 'Give you ten dollar bale. You do all work--feed Chinamen.' Isay, 'Vellee well.' Lots Chinaboys need work. I hire sevenhund'--eight hund'--maybee thousan.' I feed 'em. I pick cotton. Pickeight thousan' bale. Take all my money feed 'em. I owe Chinaboysfifty thousan' dollar.
"No pay. No see Misty Jenkins. No cross line. Misty Jenkins paysometime maybee--maybee not." The old Chinaman shook his headfatalistically.
"And you spent all you had earned and saved in forty years, and thenwent in debt fifty thousand to other Chinamen to pick that cotton, andhe hasn't paid you a dollar?"
"No pay yet; maybee some time," he replied, stoically.
"What a damn shame!" Bob seldom swore, but he felt justified for thisonce. "Can't you collect it under the Mexican laws?"
Ah Sing slowly, futilely, turned his hands palms outward.
"Mexican say Misty Jenkins big man. Damn Chinaman no good no way."
Noah Ezekiel came in from the field.
"As my dad says," remarked the hill billy, "this Chink has held on tothe handle of the plow without ever looking back. The field is O. K."
"How much will you need, Ah Sing?" Bob turned to the Chinaman.
"Maybee get along with thousan' dollars--fifteen hund' maybee."
"All right," said Bob, "I'm going to let you have it. You can get themoney three hundred at a time as you need it."
Bob stood thinking for a moment.
"Ah Sing," he said, decisively, "how would you like to have a partner?Suppose I go in with you; furnish the money and look after the buyingand selling, tend to the business end; you raise the cotton. Me payall the expenses, including wages, for you; and then divide theprofits?"
The Chinaman's face lost its stoic endurance and lighted with relief.
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"I likee him vellee much!" He put out his hand. "Me and you partners,heh?"
"Yes," Bob gripped the hand, "we are partners."