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 his observation had come many of such. Only those who have homesteaded or have been closely related to such can in full appreciate the annoyance, the years of annoyance and uncertainty with which a contest case is fraught. Great fiction has been created from such; greater could be. Oh, the nerve racking, the bitterness and very often the sinister results that have grown out of one person trying to secure the place of another without the other's consent. Murder has been committed times untold as a sequel--but getting back to Jean Baptiste and his wife.

He was inclined to be more provoked than ordinarily, for the reason that by sending his wife--at least taking her to the homestead, he knew he could have avoided the contest. As a rule places are not contested altogether without a cause. He felt that it was--and it no doubt was--due to his effort to farm his own land and assist his folks in holding their claims as well. He had discovered before he married Orlean that she was likely to prove much unlike his sister, who possessed the strength of her convictions, for she was on the clinging vine order.

Being extremely childish, this was further augmented by a stream of letters from Chicago, giving volumes of advice in regards to something the advisors had not a very keen idea of themselves. He also was cautioned not to expose her. So she had, in truth only gone to her homestead when taken by him, returning when he did as well. The fact that he had arranged in regards to the renting of his land the next season would be no evidence to assist him before the bar that would hear his case.

The contest against his wife's homestead did not, of course alter his plans in any way. He would continue along the lines he had started. But there were other things that came to annoy him at the same time. Chiefly among these was his wife's father. Always there had to be some ado when it came to him. He had reared his daughter, as before intimated, to consider him of the world's greatest men--especially the Negro race's, and to avoid friction, Baptiste came gradually to see that he would almost have to be beholden unto this creature in whom he was positively not very deeply interested.

N. Justine McCarthy's accomplishments were of a nature which Baptiste would rather have avoided. The fact that he had been a Presiding Elder in one of the leading denominations of Negro churches out of which he managed to filch about a thousand a year, was in a measure foreign to his 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 him into feeling he was a great man, Jean Baptiste came to regard as a deliberate fawning to flatter an extreme vanity. Far from being even practical, N.J. McCarthy was by disposition, environment and cultivation, narrow, impractical, hypocritical, envious and spiteful. As to how much he was so, not even did Jean Baptiste fully realize at the time, but came to learn later from experience.

He was expected in early October. The hearing of the contest was to convene a few days later, so as a greeting to his Majesty, he was to be given an opportunity to see Orlean on the stand and mercilessly grilled by non-sentimental lawyers. Baptiste was appreciative of what might result, and wished the visit could have been deferred for a while.

Another source of irritation continually, was Ethel's letters, and his wife's nervousness over the child that was to come. For the first time in her life she had been disobedient. Secretly she had, after many misgivings, fears and indecisions, brewed a tea from the weed as per Ethel's prescription--but in vain! Later, the guilt, the never-to-be-forgotten guilt; the unborn child that refused the poison, seemed to haunt her. And she could not tell her husband. But this was not all. Ethel's letters continued to come, filled with the same advice; the same suggestions; the same condemnation of motherhood--and she was compelled to keep it all a hopeless secret from the man she had sworn to love and obey.

One thing was agreed upon, they decided not to inform the Elder--at least, 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, was becoming 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 them in time to meet him. Accordingly, neither was at the station to greet him, but, recalling that Baptiste had spoken of the Freedom and no narrow prejudices and customs to irk one, the Elder went forthwith to the leading hotel in Gregory where he was accorded considerable attention as a guest. This indeed satisfied his vanity, and he was taken much notice of by those about because of his distinguished appearance. A fact that he seldom ever lost sight of.

But Baptiste happened to be in town that night on horseback, and when the 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 hotel to find his erstwhile compatriot very much at ease among those filling the 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 been aware of the day when he would arrive.

"Oh, that's all right, my son," said the other heartily. "And how is Orlean?"

"Fine! She'll be tickled to death to see you."

"And I her." The old gent was very cheerful. Such a trip was much to him. A life spent among the simple black people to whom he preached afforded little contrast compared with what was about him now. And, pompous by disposition, he was thrilled by the diversity. Baptiste decided 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'll see him and figure to have him take you out with him, as I am in on horseback."

"Very well," returned the Elder, and Baptiste went for the neighbor who happened to be a German with a very conspicuous voice. He found him at a saloon where the old scout was pretty well "pickled" from imbibing too freely in red liquor.

"Sure thing," he roared in his big voice when Baptiste stated his errand. "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. Baptiste grinned.

"I shall now depart," essayed the German, swaying not too steadily before the bar, and raising his glass, "to become sanctimonious and good," and drained his glass. The crowd roared.

"Where is he?" called the German loudly, as he drew his team to a stop before 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 perfectly safe withal." The Reverend stood for a moment, regarding the other dubiously.

"Come on, brother, and meet me!" called the German again in a voice sufficiently loud almost to awaken the dead.

"But, Jean," said the Reverend, lowly but apprehensively, "I don't know whether I want to ride with a drunken man or not."

Now it happened that the German's ears were very keen, and he overheard the Elder's remark, so without ceremony, and while the Reverend hesitated on the pavement, the German who did not like to be referred to 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 voice rang forth a minute later in a raucous tune as he unloaded another schooner.

The Reverend beat a hasty retreat back into the hotel, while Baptiste called after him:

"I'll send Orlean for you in the morning," and went to look up his neighbor who had made himself so conspicuous.

"Well, now, if this doesn't beat all," cried the Reverend when he had kissed his daughter the following morning and they were spinning along the road on the way to the farm. "I would never have believed three months ago had some one said you could and would be driving these mules!"

"Oh, I have driven them fifty miles in a day--John!" she called suddenly to 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. They sailed along the country side in the autumn air, and talked of home, Ethel, her mother, Glavis and Jean. They came presently to Baptiste's homestead and viewed with great delight the admirable tract of land that stretched before them. She talked on cheerfully and told her father all that had passed, of how happy they were, but said nothing about her prospects of becoming a mother. When they had passed her husband's homestead and were nearing a corner where they must turn to reach the house in which they were living, they passed an automobile carrying two men. They bowed lightly and the men returned it. When they had gotten out of hearing distance, one of the men whispered to the other:

"That's her!"

'Gene Crook thereupon turned and looked after the retreating figure of the girl in the buggy whose place he had determined to secure through subtle methods. But not even 'Gene Crook himself conceived of the unusual circumstances that came to pass and brought him on a visit to these selfsame people, later.

CHAPTER XII

REVEREND MCCARTHY DECIDES TO SET BAPTISTE RIGHT, BUT--

"Now the first thing, daughter," said the Reverend, "when Jean comes and you have the time, is to go up and see your claim." Orlean swallowed, and started to tell him that it was contested; but on second thought, decided to leave the task to her husband, and said instead:

"I have a fine claim, papa. Jean says it is the best piece of land we have."