He married her to secure more land. It is true that I was impressed with him in a way, because the man was rather--er, inspiring, and I entertained hopes. Our race does not possess successful men in such a number that we can be oblivious to apparent success as on a young man's part. This man seemed to be such a man--in fact, I grant him that. The man was popular with those who knew him; he was a pusher; but he _was so ambitious to get rich_ that he was in the act of killing my child to accomplish his ends." The Reverend finished this with a touch of emotion that made the other nod thoughtfully. And while he paused to gather force and words for further justification of his interposition, the Bishop said:

"I note by the reports in the newspaper that you are accused of having coerced the girl; that you had her write her husband's name on a check with which you secured the money to bring her from the West."

"He gave my daughter the privilege of securing money by such a method for her needs, and it was not I that had her do any such a thing."

"But it was--er, rather--a little irregular, was it not? It does not seem reasonable to suppose that he granted her the privilege to sign his name to checks to secure money with which to leave him?" The question was put rather testily and caused the other to shift uncomfortably before making answer.

"Well, under the circumstances, methods _had_ to be resorted to--er, rather to fit the occasion." The Elder's defence was artful.

The Bishop, not pretending to take his question seriously, pursued:

"I note, further, that he accuses you of disposing of some property...."

"My daughter sold her place. It was hers, in her name, and the transaction did not require his consent."

"M-m--I see. It seems that the property, so he claims, represented an outlay of some thirty-five hundred dollars in cash, and he purports the same as being worth something like sixty-four hundred dollars. What is your opinion, having been on the property, of its actual worth?"

"Well, I have some sense of values, since I am buying this home, and I do not regard the property as being worth such a sum."

"I see," said the other, stroking his beard which was thick and flowing.

"A piece of wild, raw land such as that I could not estimate it as being so valuable."

"M-m. Have you any knowledge of what land has brought in that neighborhood, Reverend. You see, value is a very delicate thing to estimate. We cannot always be the judge in such matters. The usual estimate of what anything is worth is what some one is willing to pay.

Do you recall of having ever heard your daughter or any one say what deeded land in that section sold for?"

"Well, I have heard my daughter say that a place near there had brought five thousand dollars."

"Which would not compare with the value you put on the place your daughter held."

"It would not seem to."

"M-m. You say this was your daughter's place entirely?"

"It was," returned the Reverend promptly.

"And she paid for it out of her own money?"

"Well, no. She did not."

"I see. M-m. Then who purchased it for her, Reverend?"

"I think he did that. Yes, I think he did."

"I see. Do you recall the consideration. I understand that he purchased what is called a relinquishment. I understand such transactions slightly. I have read of such deals in Oklahoma. Seems to be a sort of recognized custom in securing land in new countries, notwithstanding the subtlety of the transaction."

"I think he claimed to have paid two thousand dollars for the relinquishment, which I would consider too much, considerably too much."

"But, inasmuch as your knowledge of new countries has been brief, perhaps, you would not set your judgment up as a standard for values there," suggested the Bishop, pointedly. "You will grant that the individual in the controversy would likely be able to judge more correctly with regard to values?"

"It is obvious."

"Yes, yes. Quite likely." The Reverend was very uncomfortable. If the Bishop would only stop where he was it wouldn't be so bad, but if he kept on with such questions. That was what he had disliked about Jean Baptiste.... He had a habit of asking questions--too many questions, he had thought; but this man before him was the Bishop, a law unto himself.

And he must answer. The Bishop knew a great deal more about the West than he had thought he did, however.

"Who bought your daughter's place, my dear Elder? A white man or a Negro? Which of course, doesn't matter, but if I understand all the details, it would be more clear, you understand."

"Of course, my dear Bishop. Naturally. A white man bought the place."

"I understand now. A _white_ man," he repeated thoughtfully. During all the questioning, the Bishop had looked into the Reverend's eyes only occasionally. Most of the time he had kept his eyes upon the carpet before him, as if he were studying a spot thereon.

"It seems by the paper that the man, according to the accusations set forth in the complaint, had once contested the claim."

"Yes, he had done so, Doctor, he had."

"I see. Why did he contest the place, my dear Reverend?"

"Why, I do not understand clearly, but such methods appear to be a recognized custom in those parts," countered the Elder evasively.

"But isn't it a fact that he tried to contest her out of the place, and if he had been successful, he would have had the place for nothing in so far as she was concerned?"

"It is quite likely." The Elder had nothing but evasive answers now. He tried counters no more.

"But he failed, it seems, to get the place through contest, regardless of the fact that your daughter was here in Chicago instead of being on her claim."

"It seems that way."

"And then, forsooth, it must have been your daughter's husband who was instrumental in saving the place for her?"

"Yes."

"And after this, your daughter sold the place to the man who had struggled to beat her out of it and failed through the instrumentalities of her husband, and without consulting her husband with regard to the bargain."

"I counciled her, my dear Bishop."

"Ah, _you_ counciled her," and for the first time he turned his sharp, searching eyes on the Elder and seemingly looked directly through him.

The next moment they were back on the carpet before him, and he resumed his questions. He was thinking then, thinking of what he had read in the book by Jean Baptiste, and what had recently appeared in all the papers.

It seemed to him that the Elder's defence was not quite clear; but he would see it through.

"It was reported that this man, a banker, whose bank had failed ... sent you the money for your railroad fare from Cairo to this city, and also reimbursed for the return. Is that quite true?"

"That was--the railroad fare--a part of the transaction."

"Ah-ha. A _part_ of the transaction. You never, I suppose, informed her husband regarding the _transaction_ after the deal was closed?"

"No."

"What was the consideration, Reverend, for this piece of land that your daughter's husband bought, for which he paid $2000, placing a house and barn thereon, digging a well, and making other improvements, fighting off a three years' contest--placed there by the man who tried to beat her out of it? What did he pay for the place?"