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diff --git a/old/50899-h/50899-h.htm b/old/50899-h/50899-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index f75c0b7..0000000 --- a/old/50899-h/50899-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,13908 +0,0 @@ -<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> - -<!DOCTYPE html - PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > - -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> - <title> - Mam' Linda, by Will N. Harben - </title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> - - body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} - P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } - H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } - hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} - .foot { margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%; text-align: justify; font-size: 80%; font-style: italic;} - blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} - .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} - .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} - .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} - .xx-small {font-size: 60%;} - .x-small {font-size: 75%;} - .small {font-size: 85%;} - .large {font-size: 115%;} - .x-large {font-size: 130%;} - .indent5 { margin-left: 5%;} - .indent10 { margin-left: 10%;} - .indent15 { margin-left: 15%;} - .indent20 { margin-left: 20%;} - .indent30 { margin-left: 30%;} - .indent40 { margin-left: 40%;} - div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } - div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } - .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} - .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} - .pagenum {position: absolute; right: 1%; font-size: 0.6em; - font-variant: normal; font-style: normal; - text-align: right; background-color: #FFFACD; - border: 1px solid; padding: 0.3em;text-indent: 0em;} - .side { float: left; font-size: 75%; width: 15%; padding-left: 0.8em; - border-left: dashed thin; text-align: left; - text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; - font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;} - .head { float: left; font-size: 90%; width: 98%; padding-left: 0.8em; - border-left: dashed thin; text-align: center; - text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; - font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;} - p.pfirst, p.noindent {text-indent: 0} - span.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 0.8 } - pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} - -</style> - </head> - <body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Mam' Linda, by Will N. Harben - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: Mam' Linda - -Author: Will N. Harben - -Illustrator: F. B. Masters - -Release Date: January 11, 2016 [EBook #50899] -Last Updated: March 12, 2018 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MAM' LINDA *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - - - - - -</pre> - - <div style="height: 8em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h1> - MAM' LINDA - </h1> - <h2> - By Will N. Harben - </h2> - <h3> - Illustrated by F. B. Masters - </h3> - <h4> - 1907 - </h4> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0001" id="linkimage-0001"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0001.jpg" alt="0001 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0001.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0009" id="linkimage-0009"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0009.jpg" alt="0009 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0009.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0008" id="linkimage-0008"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0008.jpg" alt="0008 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0008.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <p> - <b>CONTENTS</b> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XXVIII. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XXX </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER XXXI </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0032"> CHAPTER XXXII. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0033"> CHAPTER XXXIII. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0034"> CHAPTER XXXIV </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0035"> CHAPTER XXXV. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0036"> CHAPTER XXXVI. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0037"> CHAPTER XXXVII. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0038"> CHAPTER XXXVIII. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0039"> CHAPTER XXXIX </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0040"> CHAPTER XL </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0041"> CHAPTER XLI. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0042"> CHAPTER XLII. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0043"> CHAPTER XLIII. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0044"> CHAPTER XLIV. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0045"> CHAPTER XLV. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0046"> CHAPTER XLVI. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0047"> CHAPTER XLVII. </a> - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER I. - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0001" id="linkimage-0001_"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9017.jpg" alt="9017 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9017.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - N the rear of the long store, at a round table under a hanging-lamp with a - tin shade, four young men sat playing poker. The floor of that portion of - the room was raised several feet higher than that of the front, and - between the two short flights of steps was the inclining door leading to - the cellar, which was damp and dark and used only for the storage of salt, - syrup, sugar, hardware, and general rubbish. - </p> - <p> - Near the front door the store-keeper, James Blackburn, a portly, bearded - man of forty-five, sat chatting with Carson Dwight, a young lawyer of the - town. - </p> - <p> - “I don't want any of you boys to think that I'm complaining,” the elder - man was saying. “I've been young myself; in fact, as you know, I go the - gaits too, considering that I'm tied down by a family and have a living to - make. I love to have the gang around—I <i>swear</i> I do, though - sometimes I declare it looks like this old shebang is more of a place of - amusement than a business house in good standing.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I know we hang around here too much,” Carson Dwight replied; “and you - ought to kick us out, the last one of us.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, it isn't so bad at night like this, when trade's over, but it is sort - o' embarrassing during the day. Why, what do you think? A Bradstreet - commercial reporter was in the other day to get a statement of my - standing, and while he was here Keith Gordon—look at him now, the - scamp! holding his cards over his head; that's a bluff. I'll bet he hasn't - got a ten-spot. While that agent was here Keith and a lot more of your - gang were back there on the platform dancing a hoe-down. The dust was so - thick you couldn't see the windows. The reporter looked surprised, but he - didn't say anything. I told him I thought I'd be able to pay for all I - bought in market, and that I had no idea how much I was worth. I haven't - invoiced my stock in ten years. When I run low I manage to replenish - somehow, and so it goes on from year to year.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I am going to talk to the boys,” Dwight said. “They are taking - advantage of your goodnature. The whole truth is they consider you one of - them, Jim. Marrying didn't change you. You are as full of devilment as any - of the rest, and they know it, and love to hang around you.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I reckon that's a fact,” Blackburn answered, “and I believe I'd - rather you wouldn't mention it. I think a sight of the gang, and I - wouldn't hurt their feelings for the world. After all, what does it - matter? Life is short, and if Trundle & Hodgson are getting more - mountain custom than I am, I'll bet I get the biggest slice of life. - They'll die rich, but, like as not, friendless. By-the-way, I see your - partner coming across the street. I forgot to tell you; he was looking for - you a few minutes ago. You had a streak of luck when you joined issues - with him; Bill Gamer's a rough sort o' chap, but he is by all odds the - brainiest lawyer in Georgia to-day.” - </p> - <p> - At this juncture a man of medium stature, with a massive head crowned by a - shock of reddish hair, a smooth-shaven, freckled face, and small feet and - hands stood in the doorway. He wore a long black broadcloth coat, a - waistcoat of the same material, and baggy gray trousers. The exposed - portion of his shirt-front and the lapels of his coat were stained by - tobacco juice. - </p> - <p> - “I've been up to the den, over to the Club, and the Lord only knows where - else looking for you,” he said to his partner, as he advanced, leaned - against a showcase on the counter, and stretched out his arms behind him. - </p> - <p> - “Work for us, eh?” Carson smiled. - </p> - <p> - “No; since when have you ever done a lick after dark?” was the dry reply. - “I've come to give you a piece of advice, and I'm glad Blackburn is here - to join me. The truth is, Dan Willis is in town. He is full and loaded for - bear. He's down at the wagon-yard with a gang of his mountain pals. Some - meddling person—no doubt your beautiful political opponent Wiggin—has - told him what you said about the part he took in the mob that raided! - negro town.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, he doesn't deny it, does he?” Dwight asked, his eyes flashing. - </p> - <p> - “I don't know whether he does or not,” said Gamer. “But I know he's the - most reckless and dangerous man in the county, and when he is drunk he - will halt at nothing. I thought I'd advise you to avoid him.” - </p> - <p> - “Avoid him? You mean to say”—Dwight stood up in his anger—“that - I, a free-born American citizen, must sneak around in my own home to avoid - a man that puts on a white mask and sheet and with fifty others like - himself steals into town and nearly thrashes the life out of a lot of - banjo-picking negroes? Most of them were good-for-nothing, lazy scamps, - but they were born that way, and there was one in the bunch that I know - was harmless. Oh yes, I got mad about it, and I talked plainly, I know, - but I couldn't help it.” - </p> - <p> - “You <i>could</i> have helped it,” Gamer said, testily; “and you ought to - have protected your own interests better than to give Wiggin such a strong - pull over you. If you are elected it will be by the aid of that very mob - and their kin and friends. We may be able to smooth it all over, but if - you have an open row with Dan Willis to-night, the cause of it will spread - like wildfire, and bum votes for you in wads and bunches. Good God, man, - the idea of giving Wiggin a torch like that to wave in the face of your - constituency—you, a <i>town</i> man, standing up for the black - criminal brutes that are plotting to pull down the white race! I say - that's the way Wiggin and Dan Willis would interpret your platform.” - </p> - <p> - “I can't help it,” Dwight repeated, more calmly, though his voice shook - with suppressed feeling as he went on. “If I lose all I hope for - politically—and this seems like the best chance I'll ever have to - get to the legislature—I'll stand by my convictions. We must have - law and order among ourselves if we expect to teach such things to poor, - half-witted black people. I was mad that night. You know that I love the - South. Its blood is my blood. Three of my mother's brothers and two of my - father's died fighting for the 'Lost Cause,' and my father was under fire - from the beginning of the war to the end. In fact, it is my love for the - South, and all that is good and pure and noble in it, that made my blood - boil that night. I saw a part of it you didn't see.” - </p> - <p> - “What was that?” Garner asked. - </p> - <p> - “It was a clear moonlight night,” Dwight went on. “I was sitting at the - window of my room at home, looking out over Major Warren's yard, when the - first screams and shouts came from the negro quarter. I suspected what it - was, for I'd heard of the threats the mountaineers had made against that - part of town, but I wasn't prepared for what I actually saw. The cottage - of old Uncle Lewis and Mammy Linda is just behind the Major's house, you - know, and in plain view of my window. I saw the old pair come to the door - and run out into the yard, and then I heard Linda's voice. 'It's my - child!' she screamed. 'They are killing him!' Uncle Lewis tried to quiet - her, but she stood there wringing her hands and sobbing and praying. The - Major raised the window of his room and looked out, and I heard him ask - what was wrong. Uncle Lewis tried to explain, but his voice could not be - heard above his wife's cries. A few minutes later Pete came running down - the street. They had let him go. His clothes were torn to strips and his - back was livid with great whelks. He had no sooner reached the old folks - than he keeled over in a faint. The Major came down, and he and I bent - over the boy and finally restored him to consciousness. Major Warren was - the maddest man I ever saw, and a mob a hundred strong couldn't have - touched the negro and left him alive.” - </p> - <p> - “I know, that was all bad enough,” Garner admitted, “but antagonizing - those men now won't better the matter and may do you more political damage - than you'll get over in a lifetime. You can't be a politician and a - preacher both; they don't go together. You can't dispute that the negro - quarter of this town was a disgrace to a civilized community before the - White Caps raided it. Look at it now. There never was such a change. It is - as quiet as a Philadelphia graveyard.” - </p> - <p> - “It's the way they went about it that made me mad,” Carson Dwight - retorted. “Besides, I know that boy. He is as harmless as a kitten, and he - only hung around those dives because he loved to sing and dance with the - rest. I <i>did</i> get mad; I'm mad yet. My people never lashed their - slaves when they were in bondage; why should I stand by and see them - beaten now by men who never owned negroes and never loved or understood - them? Before the war a white man would stand up and protect his slaves; - why shouldn't he now take up for at least the most faithful of their - descendants?” - </p> - <p> - “That's it,” Blackburn spoke up, admiringly. “You are a chip off of the - old block, Carson. Your daddy would have shot any man who tried to whip - one of his negroes. You can't help the way you feel; but I agree with Bill - here, you can't get the support of mountain people if you don't, at least, - <i>pretend</i> to see things their way.”, - </p> - <p> - “Well, I can't see <i>this</i> thing their way,” fumed Dwight; “and I'm - not going to try. When I saw that old black man and woman that awful night - with their very heart-strings torn and bleeding, and remembered that they - had been kind to my mother when she was at the point of death—sitting - by her bedside all night long as patiently as blocks of stone, and - shedding tears of joy at the break of day when the doctor said the crisis - had passed—when I think of that and admit that I stand by with - folded hands and see their only child beaten till he is insensible, my - blood boils with utter shame. It has burned a great lesson into my brain, - and that is that we have got to have law and order among ourselves if we - expect to keep the good opinion of the world at large.” - </p> - <p> - “I understand Pete would have got off much easier if he hadn't fought them - like a tiger,” said Blackburn. “They say—” - </p> - <p> - “And why <i>shouldn't</i> he have fought?” Carson asked, quickly. “The - nearer the brute creation a man is the more he'll fight. A tame dog will - fight if you drive him into a corner and strike him hard enough.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, you busted up our game,” joined in Keith Gordon, who had left the - table in the rear and now came forward, accompanied by another young man, - Wade Tingle, the editor of the <i>Headlight</i>. “Wade and I both agree, - Carson, that you've got to handle Dan Willis cautiously. We are backing - you tooth and toe-nail in this campaign, but you'll tie our hands if you - antagonize the mountain element. Wiggin knows that, and he is working it - for all it's worth.” - </p> - <p> - “That's right, old man,” the editor joined in, earnestly. “I may as well - be plain with you. I'm making a big issue out of my support of you, but if - you make the country people mad they will stop taking my paper. I can't - live without their patronage, and I simply can't back you if you don't - stick to <i>me</i>.” - </p> - <p> - “I wasn't raising a row,” the young candidate said. “But Garner came to me - just now, actually advising me to avoid that dirty scoundrel. I won't - dodge any blustering bully who is going about threatening what he will do - to me when he meets me face to face. I want your support, but I can't buy - it that way.” - </p> - <p> - “Well,” Garner said, grimly, more to the others than to his partner, - “there will be a row right here inside of ten minutes. I see that now. - Willis has heard certain things Carson has said about the part he took in - that raid, and he is looking for trouble. Carson isn't in the mood to take - back anything, and a fool can see how it will end.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER II. - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0002" id="linkimage-0002"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9025.jpg" alt="9025 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9025.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - EITH GORDON and Tingle motioned to Garner, and the three stepped out on - the sidewalk leaving Blackburn and the candidate together. The street was - quite deserted. Only a few of the ramshackle street lights were burning, - though the night was cloudy, the location of the stores, barbershop, - hotel, and post-office being indicated by the oblong patches of light on - the ground in front of them. - </p> - <p> - “You'll never be able to move him,” Keith Gordon said, stroking his blond - mustache nervously. “The truth is, he's terribly worked up over it. - Between us three, boys, Carson never loved but one woman in his life, and - she's Helen Warren. Mam' Linda is her old nurse, and Carson knows when she - comes home and hears of Pete's trouble it is going to hurt her awfully. - Helen has a good, kind heart, and she loves Linda as if they were the same - flesh and blood. If Carson meets Willis to-night he'll kill him or get - killed. Say, boys, he's too fine a fellow for that sort of thing right on - the eve of his election. What the devil can we do?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I see; there's a woman at the bottom of it,” Garner said, cynically. - “I'm not surprised at the way he's acting now, but I thought that case was - over with. Why, I heard she was engaged to a man down where she's - visiting.” - </p> - <p> - “She really may be,” Gordon admitted, “but Carson is ready to fight her - battles, anyway. I honestly think she turned him down when he was rolling - so high with her brother, just before his death a year ago, but that - didn't alter his feelings towards her.” - </p> - <p> - Garner grunted as he thrust his hand deep into his breast-pocket for his - plug of tobacco and began to twist off a corner of it. “The most maddening - thing on earth,” he said, “is to have a close friend who is a darned fool. - I'm tired of the whole business. Old Dwight is out of all patience with - Carson for the reckless way he has been living, but the old man is really - carried away with pride over the boy's political chances. He had that sort - of ambition himself in his early life, and he likes to see his son go in - for it. He was powerfully tickled the other day when I told him Carson was - going in on the biggest wave of popularity that ever bore a human chip, - but he will cuss a blue streak when the returns come in, for I tell you, - boys, if Carson has a row with Dan Willis to-night over this negro - business, it will knock him higher than a kite.” - </p> - <p> - “Do you know whether Carson has anything to shoot with?” Tingle asked, - thoughtfully. - </p> - <p> - “Oh yes, I saw the bulge of it under his coat just now,” Garner answered, - still angrily, “and if the two come together it will be raining lead for a - while in the old town.” - </p> - <p> - “I was just thinking about his sick mother,” Keith Gordon remarked. “My - sister told me the other day that Mrs. Dwight was in such a low condition - that any sudden shock would be apt to kill her. A thing like this would - upset her terribly—that is, if there is really any shooting. Don't - you suppose if we were to remind Carson of her condition that he might - agree to go home?” - </p> - <p> - “No, you don't know him as well as I do,” Garner said, firmly. “It would - only make him madder. The more reasons we give him for avoiding Willis the - more stubborn he'll be. I guess we'll have to let him sit there and make a - target of himself.” - </p> - <p> - Just then a tall mountaineer, under a broad-brimmed soft hat, wearing a - cotton checked shirt and jean trousers passed through the light of the - entrance to the hotel near by and slouched through the intervening - darkness towards them. - </p> - <p> - “It's Pole Baker,” said Keith. “He's a rough-and-ready supporter of - Carson's. Say, hold on, Pole!” - </p> - <p> - “Hold on yourself; what's up?” the mountaineer asked, with a laugh. - “Plottin' agin the whites?” - </p> - <p> - “We want to ask you if you've seen Dan Willis to-night,” Garner - questioned. - </p> - <p> - “Have I?” Baker grunted. “That's exactly why I'm lookin' fer you town - dudes instead o' goin' on out home where I belong. I'm as sober as an - empty keg, but I git charged with bein' in the Darley calaboose every time - I don't answer the old lady's roll-call at bed-time. You bet Willis is - loaded fer bear, and he's got some bad men with him down at the - wagon-yard. Wiggin has filled 'em up with a lot o' stuff about what Carson - said concernin' the White Cap raid t'other night. I thought I'd sorter put - you fellers on, so you could keep our man out o' the way till their liquor - wears off. Besides, I'm here to tell you, Bill Garner, that's a nasty card - Wiggin's set afloat in the mountains. He says a regular gang of - blue-bloods has been organized here to take up fer town coons agin the - pore whites in the country. We might crush such a report in time, you - know, but we'll never kill it if thar's a fight over it to-night.” - </p> - <p> - “That's the trouble,” the others said, in a breath. - </p> - <p> - “Wait one minute—you stay right here,” Baker said, and he went and - stood in front of the store door and looked in for a moment; then he came - back. “I thought maybe he'd let us all talk sense to 'im, but you can't - put reason into a man like that any easier than you can dip up melted - butter with a hot awl. I can't see any chance unless you fellers will - leave it entirely to me.” - </p> - <p> - “Leave it to you?” Garner exclaimed. “What could you do?” - </p> - <p> - “I don't know whether I could do a blessed thing or not, boys, but the dam - thing is so desperate that I'm willin' to try. You see, I never talk my - politics—if I do, I talk it on t'other side to see what I kin pick - up to advantage. The truth is, I think them skunks consider me a Wiggin - man, and I'd like to git a whack at 'em. Maybe I can git 'em to leave - town. Abe Johnson is the leader of 'em, and he never gets too drunk to - have some natural caution.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, it certainly couldn't do any harm for you to try, Pole,” said - Tingle. - </p> - <p> - “Well, I'll go down to the wagon-yard and see if they are still hanging - about.” - </p> - <p> - As he approached the place in question, which was an open space about one - hundred yards square surrounded by a high fence, at the lower end of the - main street, Pole stood in the broad gateway and surveyed the numerous - camp-fires which gleamed out from the darkness. He finally descried a - group of men around a fire between two white-hooded wagons to the wheels - of which were haltered several horses. As Pole advanced towards them, - paying cheerful greetings to various men and women around the different - fires he had to pass, he recognized Dan Willis, Abe Johnson, and several - others. - </p> - <p> - A quart whiskey flask, nearly empty, stood on the ground in the light of - the fire round which the men were seated. As he approached they all looked - up and nodded and muttered careless greetings. It seemed to suggest a - movement on the part of Dan Willis, a tall man of thirty-five or - thirty-six years of age, who wore long, matted hair and had bushy eyebrows - and a sweeping mustache, for, taking up the flask, he rose and dropped it - into his coat-pocket and spoke to the two men who sat on either side of - Abe Johnson. - </p> - <p> - “Come on,” he growled, “I want to talk to you. I don't care whether you - join us or not, Abe.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I'm out of it,” replied Johnson. “I've talked to you fellows till - I'm sick. You are too darned full to have any sense.” - </p> - <p> - Willis and the two men walked off together and stood behind one of the - wagons. Their voices, muffled by the effects of whiskey, came back to the - ears of the remaining two. - </p> - <p> - “Goin' out home to-night, Abe?” Baker asked, carelessly. - </p> - <p> - “I want to, but I don't like to leave that damned fool here in the - condition he's in. He'll either commit murder or git his blasted head shot - off.” - </p> - <p> - “That's exactly what <i>I</i> was thinking about,” said Pole, sitting down - on the ground carelessly and drawing his knees up in the embrace of his - strong arms. “Look here, Abe, me'n you hain't to say quite as intimate as - own brothers born of the same mammy, but I hain't got nothin' agin you of - a personal nature.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I reckon that's all right,” the other said, stroking his round, - smooth-shaven face with a dogged sweep of his brawny hand. “That's all - right, Pole.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, my family knowed yore family long through the war,” Abe. “My daddy - was with yourn at the front, an' our mothers swapped sugar an' coffee in - them hard times, an', Abe, I'm here to tell you I sorter hate to see an - unsuspectin' neighbor like you walk blind into serious trouble, great big - trouble, Abe—trouble of the sort that would make a man's wife an' - childern lie awake many and many a night.” - </p> - <p> - “What the hell you mean?” Johnson asked, picking up his ears. - </p> - <p> - “Why, it's this here devilment that's brewin' betwixt Dan an' Carson - Dwight.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0003" id="linkimage-0003"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0031.jpg" alt="0031 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0031.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - “Well, what's that got to do with <i>me?</i>” Johnson asked, in surly - surprise. - </p> - <p> - “Well, it's jest this, Abe,” Pole leaned back till his feet rose from the - ground, and he twisted his neck as his eyes followed the three men who, - with their heads close together, had moved a little farther away. “Maybe - you don't know it, Abe, but I used to be in the government revenue - service, and in one way and another that's neither here nor there I - sometimes drop onto underground information, an' I want to give you a - valuable tip. I want to start you to thinkin'. You'll admit, I reckon, - that if them two men meet to-night thar will be apt to be blood shed.” - </p> - <p> - Johnson stared over the camp-fire sullenly. “If Carson Dwight hain't had - the sense to git out o' town thar will be, an' plenty of it,” he said, - with a dry chuckle. - </p> - <p> - “Well, thar's the difficulty,” said Pole. “He hain't left town, an' what's - wuss than that, his friends hain't been able to budge 'im from his seat in - Blackburn's store, whar Dan couldn't miss 'im ef he was stalkin' about - blindfolded. He's heard threats, and he's as mad a man as ever pulled - hair.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, what the devil—” - </p> - <p> - “Hold on, Abe. Now, I'll tell you whar <i>you</i> come in. My underground - information is that the Grand Jury is hard at work to git the facts about - that White Cap raid. The whole thing—name of leader and members of - the gang has been kept close so far, but—” - </p> - <p> - “Well”—the half-defiant look in the face of Johnson gave way to one - of growing alarm—“well!” he repeated, but went no further. - </p> - <p> - “It's this way, Abe—an' I'm here as a friend, I reckon. You know as - well as I do that if thar is blood shed to-night it will git into court, - and a lots about the White Cap raid, and matters even further back, will - be pulled into the light.” - </p> - <p> - Pole's words had made a marked impression on the man to whom they had been - so adroitly directed. Johnson leaned forward nervously. “So you think—” - But he hung fire again. - </p> - <p> - “Huh, I think you'd better git Dan Willis out o' this town, Abe, an' - inside o' five minutes, ef you can do it.” - </p> - <p> - Johnson drew a breath of evident relief. “I can do it, Pole, and I'll act - by your advice,” he said. “Thar's only one thing on earth that would turn - Dan towards home, but I happen to know what that is. He's b'ilin' hot, but - he ain't any more anxious to stir up the Grand Jury than some of the rest - of us. I'll go talk to 'im.” - </p> - <p> - As Johnson moved away, Pole Baker rose and slouched off in the darkness in - the direction of the straggling lights along the main street. At the gate - he paused and waited, his eyes on the wagons and camp-fire he had just - left. Presently he noticed something and chuckled. The horses, with - clanking trace-chains, passed between him and the fire—they were - being led round to be hitched to the wagons. Pole chuckled again. “I'm not - sech a dern fool as I look,” he said, “Well, I had to lie some and act a - part that sorter went agin the grain, but my scheme worked. If I ever git - to hell I reckon it will be through tryin' to do right—in the main.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER III. - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0004" id="linkimage-0004"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9035.jpg" alt="9035 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9035.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - HE wide avenue which ran north and south and cut the town of Darley into - halves held the best and oldest residences. One side of the street caught - the full rays of the morning sun and the other the slanting red beams of - the afternoon. For so small a town, it was a well-graded and well-kept - thoroughfare. Strips of grass lay like ribbons between the sidewalks and - the roadway, and at the triangular spaces created by the intersection of - certain streets there were rusty iron fences built primarily to protect - diminutive fountains which had long since ceased to play. In one of these - little parks, in the heart of the town, as it was in the hearts of the - inhabitants, stood a monument erected to “The Confederate Dead,” a - well-modelled, life-size figure of a Southern private wrought in stone in - faraway Italy. Had it been correctly placed on its pedestal?—that - was the question anxiously asked by reverent passers-by, for the cloaked - and knapsacked figure, which time was turning gray, stood with its back to - the enemy's country. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, it is right,” some would say, “for the soldier is represented as - being on night picket-duty in Northern territory, and his thoughts and - eyes are with his dear ones at home and the country he is defending.” - </p> - <p> - Henry Dwight, the wealthy sire of the aggressive young man with whom the - foregoing chapters have principally dealt, lived in one of the moss and - ivy grown houses on the eastern side of the avenue. It was a red brick - structure two and a half stories high, with a colonial veranda, and had a - square, white-windowed cupola as the apex of the slanting roof. There was - a semicircular drive, which entered the grounds at one corner in the front - and swept gracefully past the door. The central and smaller front gate, - for the use of pedestrians, with its imitation stone posts, spanned by a - white crescent, was reached from the house by a gravelled walk bordered by - boxwood. On the right and left were rustic summerhouses, grape arbors and - parterres containing roses and other flowers, all of which were well cared - for by an old colored gardener. - </p> - <p> - Henry Dwight was a grain and cotton merchant, money-lender, and the - president and chief stockholder of the Darley Cotton Mills, whose great - brick buildings and cottages for employés stood a mile or so to the west - of the town. This morning, having written his daily letters, he was - strolling in his grounds smoking a cigar. To any one who knew him well it - would have been plain that his mind was disturbed. - </p> - <p> - Adjoining the Dwight homestead there was another ancestral house equally - as spacious and stand-. ing in quite as extensive, if more neglected, - grounds. It was here that Major Warren lived, and it happened that he, - too, was on his lawn just beyond the ramshackle intervening fence, the - gate of which had fallen from its hinges and been taken away. - </p> - <p> - The Major was a short, slight old gentleman, quite a contrast to the John - Bull type of his lusty, side-whiskered neighbor. He wore a dingy brown - wig, and as he pottered about, raising a rose from the earth with his - gold-headed ebony stick, or stooped to uproot an encroaching weed, his - furtive glance was often levelled on old Dwight. - </p> - <p> - “I declare I really might as well,” he muttered, undecidedly. “What's the - use making up your mind to a thing and letting it go for no sensible - reason. He's taking a wrong view of it. I can tell that by the way he - puffs at his cigar. Yes, I'll do it.” - </p> - <p> - The Major passed through the gateway and slowly drew near his preoccupied - neighbor. - </p> - <p> - “Good-morning, Henry,” he said, as Dwight looked up. “If I'm any judge of - your twists and turns, you are not yet in a thoroughly good-humor.” - </p> - <p> - “Good-humor? No, sir, I'm <i>not</i> in a good-humor. How could I be when - that young scamp, the only heir to my name and effects—” - </p> - <p> - Dwight's spleen rose and choked out his words, and, red in the face, he - stood panting, unable to go further. - </p> - <p> - “Well, it seems to me, while he's not <i>my</i> son,” the Major began, - “that you are—are—well, rather overbearing—I might say - unforgiving. He's been sowing wild oats, but, really, if I am any judge of - young men, he is on a fair road to—to genuine manhood.” - </p> - <p> - “Road to nothing,” spluttered Dwight. “I gave him that big farm to see - what he could do in its management. Never expected him to work a lick—just - wanted to see if he could keep it on a paying basis, but it was an - investment of dead capital. Then he took up the law. He did a little - better at that along with Bill Garner to lean on, but that never amounted - to anything worth mentioning. Then he went into politics.” - </p> - <p> - “And I heard you say yourself, Henry,” the Major ventured, gently, “that - you believed he was actually cut out for a future statesman.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, and like the fool that I was I hoped for it. I was so glad to see - him really interested in politics that I laid awake at night thinking of - his success. I heard of his popularity on every hand. Men came to me, and - women, too, telling me they loved him and were going to work for him - against that jack-leg lawyer Wiggin, and put him into office with a - majority that would ring all over the State; and they meant it, I reckon. - But what did he do? In his stubborn, bull-headed way he abused those - mountain men who took the law into their hands for the public good, and - turned hundreds of them against him; and all for a nigger—a lazy, - trifling nigger boy!” - </p> - <p> - “Well, you see,” Major Warren began, lamely, “Carson and I saw Pete the - night he was whipped so severely and we took pity on him. They played - together when they were boys, as boys all over the South do, you know, and - then he saw Mam' Linda break down over it and saw old Lewis crying for the - first time in the old man's life. I was mad, Henry, myself, and you would - have been if you had been there. I could have fought the men who did it, - so I understand how Carson felt, and when he made the remark Wiggin is - using to such deadly injury to his prospects my heart warmed to the boy. - If he doesn't succeed as a politician it will be because he is too genuine - for a tricky career of that sort. His friends are trying to get him to - make some statement that will reinstate him with the mountain people who - sympathized with the White Caps, but he simply won't do it.” - </p> - <p> - “Won't do it! I reckon not!” Dwight blurted out. “Didn't the young idiot - wait in Blackburn's store for Dan Willis to come and shoot the top of his - head off? He sat there till past midnight, and wouldn't move an inch till - actual proof was brought to him that Willis had left town. Oh, I'm no - fool! I know a thing or two. I've watched him and your daughter together. - That's at the bottom of it. She sat down on him before she went off to - Augusta, but her refusal didn't alter him. He knows Helen thinks a lot of - her old negro mammy, and in her absence he simply took up her cause and is - fighting mad about it—so mad that he is blind to his political ruin. - That's what a man will do for a woman. They say she's about to become - engaged down there. I hope she is, and that Carson will have pride enough - when he hears of it to let another man do her fighting, and one with - nothing to lose by it.” - </p> - <p> - “She hasn't written me a thing about any engagement,” the Major answered, - with some animation; “but my sister highly approves of the match and - writes that it may come about. Mr. Sanders is a well-to-do, honorable man - of good birth and education: Helen never seemed to get over her brother's - sad death. She loved poor Albert more than she ever did me or any one - else.” - </p> - <p> - “And I always thought that it was Carson's association with your son in - his dissipation that turned Helen against him. For all I know, she may - have thought Carson actually led Albert on and was partly the cause of his - sad end.” - </p> - <p> - “She may have looked at it that way,” the Major said, musingly. They had - now reached the porch in the rear of the house and they went together into - the wide hall. A colored maid with a red bandanna tied like a turban round - her head was dusting the walnut railing of the stairs. Passing through the - hall, the old gentlemen turned into the library, a great square room with - wide windows and tall, gilt-framed pier-glass mirrors. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I'm sure that's what turned her against him,” Dwight continued, “and - that is where, between you and Helen, I get mixed up. Why do you always - take up for the scamp? It looks to me like you'd resent the way he acted - with your son after the boy's terrible end.” - </p> - <p> - “There is a good deal more in the matter, Henry, than I ever told you - about.” Major Warren's voice faltered. “To be plain, that is my secret - trouble. I reckon if Helen was to discover the actual truth—<i>all - of it</i>—she would never feel the same towards me. I think maybe I - ought to tell you. It certainly will explain why I am so much interested - in your boy.” They sat down, the owner of the house in a reclining-chair - at an oblong, carved mahogany table covered with books and papers, the - visitor on a lounge near by. - </p> - <p> - “Well, it always has seemed odd to me,” old Dwight said. “I couldn't - exactly believe you wanted to bring him and Helen together, after your - experience with that sort of man under your own roof.” - </p> - <p> - “It is this way,” said the Major, awkwardly. “To begin with, I am sure, - from all I've picked up, that it was not your son that was leading mine on - to dissipation, but just the other way. He's dead and gone, but Albert was - always ready for a prank of any sort. Henry, I want to talk to you about - it because it seems to me you are in the same position in regard to Carson - that I was in regard to my poor boy, and I've prayed a thousand times for - pardon for what I did in anger and haste. Henry, listen to me. If ever a - man made a vital mistake I did, and I'll bear the weight of it to my - grave. You know how I worried over. Albert's drinking and his general - conduct. Time after time he made promises that he would turn over a new - leaf only to break them. Well, it was on the last trip—the fatal one - to New York, where he had gone and thrown away so much money. I wrote him - a severe letter, and in answer to it I got a pathetic one, saying he was - sick and tired of the way he was doing and begging me to try him once more - and send him money to pay his way home. It was the same old sort of - promise and I didn't have faith in him. I was unfair, unjust to my only - son. I wrote and refused, telling him that I could not trust him any more. - Hell inspired that letter, Henry—the devil whispered to me that I'd - been indulgent to the poor boy's injury. Then came the news. When he was - found dead in a small room on the top floor of that squalid hotel—dead - by his own hand—my letter lay open beside him.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, well, you couldn't help it!” Dwight said, most awkwardly, and he - crossed his short, fat legs anew and reached for an open box of cigars. - “You were trying to do your duty as you saw it, and to the best of your - ability.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, but my method, Henry, resulted in misery and grief to me and Helen - that can never be cured. You see, it is because of that awful mistake that - I take such an interest in Carson. I love him because Albert loved him, - and because sometimes it seems to me that you are most too quick to - condemn him. Oh, he's different! Carson has changed wonderfully since - Albert died. He doesn't drink to excess now, and Garner says he has quit - playing cards, having only one aim, and that to win this political race—to - win it to please you, Henry.” - </p> - <p> - “Win it!” Dwight sniffed. “He's already as dead as a salt mackerel—laid - out stiff and stark by his own bull-headed stupidity. I've always talked - down drinking and card-playing, but I have known some men to succeed in - life who had such habits in moderation; but you nor I nor no one else ever - saw a blockhead succeed at anything. I tell you he'll never make a - successful politician. Wiggin will beat the hind sights off of him. Wiggin - is simply making capital of the fool's inability to control his temper and - sympathies. Wiggin would have let that mob thrash his own father and - mother rather than antagonize them and lose their votes. He knows Carson - comes of fighting stock, and he will continue to egg Dan Willis and others - on, knowing that every resentful word from Carson will make enemies for - him by the score.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I can see that, too!” the Major sighed; “but, to save me, I can't - help admiring the boy. He thinks the White Caps did wrong that night and - he simply can't pretend otherwise. It is the principle of the thing, - Henry. He is an unusual sort of candidate, and his stand may ruin his - chances, but I—I glory in his firmness. I must say g me to try him - once more and send him money to pay his way home. It was the same old sort - of promise and I didn't have faith in him. I was unfair, unjust to my only - son. I wrote and refused, telling him that I could not trust him any more. - Hell inspired that letter, Henry—the devil whispered to me that I'd - been indulgent to the poor boy's injury. Then came the news. When he was - found dead in a small room on the top floor of that squalid hotel— - dead by his own hand—my letter lay open beside him.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, well, you couldn't help it!” Dwight said, most awkwardly, and he - crossed his short, fat legs anew and reached for an open box of cigars. - “You were trying to do your duty as you saw it, and to the best of your - ability.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, but my method, Henry, resulted in misery and grief to me and Helen - that can never be cured. You see, it is because of that awful mistake that - I take such an interest in Carson. I love him because Albert loved him, - and because sometimes it seems to me that you are most too quick to - condemn him. Oh, he's different! Carson has changed wonderfully since - Albert died. He doesn't drink to excess now, and Garner says he has quit - playing cards, having only one aim, and that to win this political race- - -to win it to please you, Henry.” - </p> - <p> - “Win it!” Dwight sniffed. “He's already as dead as a salt mackerel—laid - out stiff and stark by his own bull-headed stupidity. I've always talked - down drinking and card-playing, but I have known some men to succeed in - life who had such habits in moderation; but you nor I nor no one else ever - saw a blockhead succeed at anything. I tell you he'll never make a - successful politician. Wiggin will beat the hind sights off of him. Wiggin - is simply making capital of the fool's inability to control his temper and - sympathies. Wiggin would have let that mob thrash his own father and - mother rather than antagonize them and lose their votes. He knows Carson - comes of fighting stock, and he will continue to egg Dan Willis and others - on, knowing that every resentful word from Carson will make enemies for - him by the score.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I can see that, too!” the Major sighed; “but, to save me, I can't - help admiring the boy. He thinks the White Caps did wrong that night and - he simply can't pretend otherwise. It is the principle of the thing, - Henry. He is an unusual sort of candidate, and his stand may ruin his - chances, but I—I glory in his firmness. I must say that.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh yes, that's the trouble with you sentimental people,” Dwight fumed. - “Between you and the boy's doting mother, the Lord only knows where he'll - land. I've overlooked a lot in him in the hope that he'd put this election - through, but I shall let him go his own way now. It has come to a pretty - pass if I have to see my son beaten to the dust by a man of Wiggin's stamp - because of that long-legged negro boy of yours who would have been better - long ago if he had been soundly thrashed.” - </p> - <p> - When his visitor had gone Dwight dropped his unfinished cigar into the - grate and went slowly upstairs to his wife's room. At a small-paned window - overlooking the flower-garden, on a couch supported in a reclining - position by several puffy pillows, was Mrs. Dwight. She was well past - middle-age and of extremely delicate physique. Her hair was snowy white, - her skin thin to transparency, her veins full and blue. - </p> - <p> - “That was Major Warren, wasn't it?” she asked, in a soft, sweet voice, as - she put down the magazine she had been reading. - </p> - <p> - “Yes,” Dwight answered, as he went to a little desk in one corner of the - room and took a paper from a pigeon-hole and put it into his pocket. - </p> - <p> - “How did he happen to come over so early?” the lady pursued. - </p> - <p> - “Because he wanted to, I reckon,” Dwight started out, impatiently, and - then a note of caution came into his voice as he remembered the warning of - the family physician against causing the patient even the slightest worry. - “Warren hasn't a blessed thing to do, you know, from mom till night. So - when he strikes a busy man he is apt to hang on to him and talk in his - long-winded way about any subject that takes possession of his brain. He's - great on showing men how to manage their own affairs. It takes an idle man - to do that. If that man hadn't had money left to him he would now be - begging his bread from door to door.” - </p> - <p> - “Somehow I fancied it was about Carson,” Mrs. Dwight sighed. - </p> - <p> - “There you go!” her husband said, with as much grace of evasion as lay in - his sturdy compound. “Lying there from day to day, you seem to have - contracted Warren's complaint. You think nobody can drop in even for a - minute without coming about your boy—your boy! Some day, if you live - long enough, you may discover that the universe was not created solely for - your son, nor made just to revolve around him either.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I suppose I <i>do</i> worry about Carson a great deal,” the invalid - admitted; “but you haven't told me right out that the Major was <i>not</i> - speaking of him.” - </p> - <p> - The old man's face was the playground of conflcting impulses. He grew red - with anger and his lips trembled on the very verge of an outburst, but he - controlled himself. In fact, his irritability calmed down as he suddenly - saw a loop-hole through which to escape her questioning. - </p> - <p> - “The truth is,” he said, “Warren was talking about Albert's death. He - talked quite a while about it. He almost broke down.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I'm so worried about Carson's campaign that I imagine all sorts of - trouble,” Mrs. Dwight sighed. “I lay awake nearly all of last night - thinking about one little thing. When he was in his room dressing the - other day, I heard something fall to the floor. Hilda had taken him some - hot water for shaving, and when she came back she told me he had dropped - his revolver out of his pocket. You know till then I had had no idea he - carried one, and while it may be necessary at times, the idea is very - disagreeable.” - </p> - <p> - “You needn't let <i>that</i> bother you,” Dwight said, as he took his hat - to go down to his office at his warehouse. “Nearly all the young men carry - them because they think it looks smart. Most of them would run like a - scared dog if they saw one pointed at them even in fun.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I hope my boy will never have any use for one,” the invalid said. - “He is not of a quarrelsome nature. It takes a good deal to make him - angry, but when he gets so he is not easily controlled.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER IV. - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0005" id="linkimage-0005"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9046.jpg" alt="9046 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9046.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - HE young men in Carson Dwight's set had an odd sort of lounging-place. It - was Keith Gordon's room above his father's bank in an old building which - had withstood the shot and shell of the Civil War. “The Den,” as it was - called by its numerous hap-hazard occupants, was reached from the street - on the outside by a narrow flight of worm-eaten and rickety stairs and a - perilous little balcony or passage that clung to the brick wall, twenty - feet from the ground, along the full length of the building. It was here - in one of the four beds that Keith slept, when there was room for him. - After a big dance or a match game of baseball, when there were impecunious - visitors from neighboring towns left over for various and sundry reasons, - Keith had to seek the sanctimonious solitude of his father's home or go to - the hotel. - </p> - <p> - The den was about twenty-five feet square. It was not as luxurious as such - bachelor quarters went in Augusta, Savannah, or even Atlanta, but it - answered the purpose of “the gang” which made use of it. Keith frankly - declared that he had overhauled and replenished it for the last time. He - said that it was absolutely impossible to keep washbasins and pitchers, - when they were hurled out of the windows for pure amusement of men who - didn't care whether they washed or not. As for the laundry bill, he - happened to know that it was larger than that of the Johnston House or the - boarding department of the Darley Female College. He said, too, that he - had warned the gang for the last time that the room would be closed if any - more clog-dancing were indulged in. He said his father complained that the - plastering was dropping down on his desk below, and sensible men ought to - know that a thing like that could not go on forever. - </p> - <p> - The rules concerning the payment for drinks were certainly lax. No - accounts were kept of any man's indebtedness. Any member of the gang was - at liberty to stow away a flask of any size in the bureau or wash-stand - drawer, or under the mattresses or pillows of his or anybody else's bed, - where Skelt, the negro who swept the room, and loved stimulants could not - find it. - </p> - <p> - Bill Garner, as brainy as he was, while he was always welcome at his - father's house in the country, a mile from town, seemed to love the - company of this noisy set. Through the day it was said of him that he - could read and saturate himself with more law than any man in the State, - but at night his recreation was a cheap cigar, his old bulging carpet - slippers, a cosey chair in Keith's room, and—who would think it?—the - most thrilling Indian dime novel on the market. He could quote the French, - German, Italian, and Spanish classics by the page in a strange musical - accent he had acquired without the aid of a master or any sort of - intercourse with native foreigners. He knew and loved all things - pertaining to great literature—said he had a natural ear for - Wagner's music, had comprehended Edwin Booth's finest work, knew a good - picture when he saw it; and yet he had to have his dime novel. In it he - found mental rest and relaxation that was supplied by nothing else. His - bedfellow was Bob Smith, the genial, dapper, ever daintily clad clerk at - the Johnston House. Garner said he liked to sleep with Bob because Bob - never—sleeping or waking—took anything out of him mentally. - Besides dressing to perfection, Bob played rag-time on the guitar and sang - the favorite coon songs of the day. His duties at the hotel were far from - arduous, and so the gang usually looked to him to arrange dances and - collect toll for expenses. And Bob was not without his actual monetary - value, as the proprietor of the hotel had long since discovered, for when - Bob arranged a dance it meant that various socially inclined drummers of - good birth and standing would, at a hint or a telegram from the clerk, - “lay over” at Darley for one night anyway. - </p> - <p> - If Bob had any quality that disturbed the surface of his uniform - equanimity it was his excessive pride in Carson Dwight's friendship. He - interlarded his talk with what Carson had said or done, and Carson's - candidacy for the Legislature had become his paramount ambition. Indeed, - it may as well be stated that the rest of the gang had espoused Dwight's - political cause with equal enthusiasm. - </p> - <p> - It was the Sunday morning following the night Pole Baker had prevented the - meeting between Dwight and Dan Willis, and most of the habitual loungers - were present waiting for Skelt to black their boots, and deploring the - turn of affairs which looked so bad for their favorite. Wade Tingle was - shaving at one of the windows before a mirror in a cracked mahogany frame, - when they all recognized Carson's step on the balcony and a moment later - Dwight stood in the doorway. - </p> - <p> - “Hello, boys, how goes it?” he asked. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, right side up, old man,” Tingle replied, as he began to rub the - lather into his face with his hand to soften his week-old beard before - shaving. “How's the race?” - </p> - <p> - “It's all right, I guess,” Dwight said, wearily, as he came in and sat - down in a vacant chair against the wall. “How goes it in the mountains? I - understand you've been over there.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, trying to rake in some ads, stir up my local correspondents, and - take subscriptions. As to your progress, old man, I'm sorry to say - Wiggin's given it a sort of black eye. There was a meeting of farmers over - in the tenth, at Miller's Spring. I was blamed sorry you were not there. - Wiggin made a speech. It was a corker—viewed as campaign material - solely. That chap's failed at the law, but he's the sharpest, most - unprincipled manipulator of men's emotions I ever ran across. He showed - you up as Sam Jones does the ring-tailed monster of the cloven foot.” - </p> - <p> - “What Carson said about the Willis and Johnson mob was his theme, of - course?” said Garner, above the dog-eared pages of his thriller. - </p> - <p> - “That and ten thousand things Carson never dreamed of,” returned Tingle. - “Here's the way it went. The meeting was held under a bush-arbor to keep - the sun off, and the farmers had their wives and children out for a - picnic. A long-faced parson led in prayer, some of the old maids piped up - with a song that would have ripped slits in your musical tympanum, Garner, - and then a raw-boned ploughman in a hickory shirt and one gallus - introduced the guest of honor. How they could have overlooked the - editor-in-chief and proprietor of the greatest agricultural weekly in - north Georgia and picked out that skunk was a riddle to me.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, what did he say?” Garner asked, as sharply as if he were - cross-examining a non-committal witness of importance. - </p> - <p> - “What did he say?” Tingle laughed, as he wiped the lather from his face - with a ragged towel and stood with it in his hand. “He began by saying - that he had gone into the race to win, and that he was going to the - Legislature as sure as the sun was on its way down in this country and on - its way up in China. He said it was a scientific certainty, as easily - demonstrated as two and two make four. Those hardy, horny-handed men - before him that day were not going to the polls and vote for a town dude - who parted his hair in the middle, wore spike-toed shoes that glittered - like a new dash-board, and was the ringleader of the rowdiest set of young - card-players and whiskey-drinkers that ever blackened the morals of a - mining-camp. He said that about the gang, boys, and I didn't have a thing - to shoot with. In fact, I had to sit there and take in more.” - </p> - <p> - “What did he say about his <i>platform?</i>” Garner asked, with a heavy - frown; “that's what I want to get at. You never can hurt a politician by - circulating the report that he drinks—that's what half of 'em vote - for.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, his platform seemed to be chiefly that he was out to save the common - people from the eternal disgrace of voting for a man like Dwight. He - certainly piled it on thick and heavy. It would have made Carson's own - mother slink away in shame. Carson, Wiggin said, had loved niggers since - he was knee high to a duck, and had always contended that a negro owned by - the aristocracy of the South was ahead of the white, razor-back stock in - the mountains who had never had that advantage. Carson was up in arms - against the White Caps that had come to Darley and whipped those lazy - coons, and was going to prosecute every man in the bunch to the full - extent of the United States law. If he got into the Legislature he - intended to pass laws to make it a penitentiary offence for a white man to - shove a black buck off the sidewalk. 'But he's not going to take his seat - in the Capitol of Georgia,' Wiggins said, with a yell—'if Carson - Dwight went to Atlanta it would <i>not</i> be on a free pass.' And, boys, - that crowd yelled till the dry leaves overhead clapped an encore. The men - yelled and the women and children yelled.” - </p> - <p> - “He's a contemptible puppy!” Dwight said, angrily. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, but he's a slick politician among men of that sort,” said Tingle. - “He certainly knows how to talk and stir up strife.” - </p> - <p> - “And I suppose you sat there like a bump on a log, and listened to all - that without opening your mouth!” Keith Gordon spoke up from his bed, - where he lay in his bath-robe smoking over the remains of the breakfast - Skelt had brought from the hotel on a big black tray. - </p> - <p> - “Well, I <i>did</i>—get up,” Tingle answered, with a manly flush. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, you <i>did!</i>” Garner leaned forward with interest. - </p> - <p> - “Well, I'm glad you happened to be on hand, for your paper has - considerable influence over there.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I got up. I waved my hands up and down like a buzzard rising, to - keep the crowd still till I could think of something to say; but, Carson, - old man, you know what an idiot I used to be in college debates. I could - get through fairly well on anything they would let me write down and read - off, but it was the impromptu thing that always rattled me. I was as mad - as hell when I rose, but all those staring eyes calmed me wonderfully. I - reckon I stood there fully half a minute swallowing—” - </p> - <p> - “You damned fool!” Garner exclaimed, in high disgust. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, that's exactly what I was,” Tingle admitted. “I stood there gasping - like a catfish enjoying his first excursion in open air. It was deathly - still. I've heard it said that dying men notice the smallest things about - them. I remember I saw the horses and mules haltered out under the trees - with their hay and fodder under their noses—the dinner-baskets all - in a cluster at the spring guarded by a negro woman. Then what do you - think? Old Jeff Condon spoke up. - </p> - <p> - “'Lead us in prayer, brother,' he said, in reverential tones, and since I - was born I never heard so much laughing.” - </p> - <p> - “You certainly <i>did</i> play into Wiggin's hands,” growled the - disgruntled Garner. “That's exactly what a glib-tongued skunk like him - would want.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, it gave me a minute to try to get my wind, anyway,” said Tingle, - still red in the face, “but I wasn't equal to a mob of baseball rooters - like that. I started in to deny some of Wiggin's charges when another - smart Alec spoke up and said: 'Hold on! tell us about the time you and - your candidate started home from a ball at Catoosa Springs in a buggy, and - were so drunk that the horse took you to the house of a man who used to - own him sixteen miles from where you wanted to go. Of course, you all - know, boys, that was a big exaggeration, but I had no idea it was - generally known. Anyway, I thought the crowd would laugh their heads off. - I reckon it was the way I looked. I felt as if every man, woman, and child - there had mashed a bad egg on me and was chuckling over their - marksmanship. I ended up by getting mad, and I saw by Wiggin's grin that - he liked that. I managed to say a few things in denial, and then Wiggin - got up and roasted me and my paper to a turn. He said that in supporting - Dwight editorially the <i>Headlight</i> was giving sanction to Dwight's - ideas in favor of the negro and against honest white people, and that - every man there who had any family or State pride ought to stop taking the - dirty sheet; and, bless your life, some of them did cancel their - subscriptions when they met me after the speaking; but I'm going to keep - on mailing it, anyway. It will be like sending free tracts to the heathen, - but it may bear fruit.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER V. - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0006" id="linkimage-0006"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9054.jpg" alt="9054 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9054.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - ALF an hour later all the young men had left the room except Garner and - Dwight. Garner still wore the frown brought to his broad brow by Tingle's - recital. - </p> - <p> - “I've set my heart on putting this thing through,” he said; “and while it - looks kind of shaky, I haven't lost all hope yet. Of course, your reckless - remarks about the White Caps have considerably damaged us in the - mountains, but we may live it down. It may die a natural death if you and - Dan Willis don't meet and plug away at each other and set the talk afloat - again. I reckon he'll keep out of your way when he's sober, anyway.” - </p> - <p> - “I am not running after him,” Carson returned. “I simply said what I - thought and Wiggin made the most of it.” - </p> - <p> - Garner was silent for several minutes, then he folded his dime novel and - bent it across his knee, and when he finally spoke Dwight thought he had - never seen a graver look on the strong face. He had seen it full of - emotional tears when Garner was at the height of earnest appeal to a jury - in a murder case; he had seen it dark with the fury of unjust legal - defeat, but now there was a strange feminine whiteness at the corners of - the big facile mouth, a queer twitching of the lips. - </p> - <p> - “I've made up my mind to tell you a secret,” he said, falteringly. “I've - come near it several times and backed out. It's a subject I don't know how - to handle. It's about a woman, Carson. You know I'm not a ladies' man. I - don't call on women; I don't take them buggy-riding; I don't dance with - them, or even know how to fire soft things at them like you and Keith, but - I've had my experience.” - </p> - <p> - “It certainly is a surprise to me,” Dwight said, sympathetically, and then - in the shadow of Garner's seriousness he found himself unable to make - further comment. - </p> - <p> - “I reckon you'll lose all respect for me for thinking there was a ghost of - a chance in that particular quarter,” Garner pursued, without meeting his - companion's eye. “But, Carson, my boy, there is a certain woman that every - man who knows her has loved or is still loving. Keith's crazy about her, - though he has given up all hope as I did long ago, and even poor Bob Smith - thinks he's in luck if she will only listen to one of his new songs or let - him do her some favor. We all love her, Carson, because she is so sweet - and kind to us—” - </p> - <p> - “You mean—” Dwight interrupted, impulsively, and then lapsed into - silence, an awkward flush rising to his brow. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I mean Helen Warren, old man. As I say, I had never thought of a - woman that way in my life. We were thrown together once at a house-party - at Hilburn's farm—well, I simply went daft. She never refused to - walk with me when I asked her, and seemed specially interested in my - profession. I didn't know it at the time, but I have since discovered that - she has that sweet way with every man, rich or poor, married or single. - Well, to make a long story short, I proposed to her. The whole thing is - stamped on my brain as with a branding-iron. We had taken a long walk that - morning and were seated under a big beech-tree near a spring. She kept - asking about my profession, her face beaming, and it all went to my head. - I knew that I was the ugliest man in the State, that I had no style about - me, and knew nothing about being nice to women of her sort; but her - interest in everything pertaining to the law made me think, you know, that - she admired that kind of thing. I went wild. As I told her how I felt I - actually cried. Think of it—I was silly enough to blubber like a - baby! I can't describe what happened. She was shocked and pained beyond - description. She had never dreamed that I felt that way. I ended by asking - her to try to forget it all, and we had a long, awful walk to the house.” - </p> - <p> - “That <i>was</i> tough,” Carson Dwight said, a queer expression on his - face. - </p> - <p> - “Well, I've told it to you for a special reason,” Garner said, with a big, - trembling sigh. “Carson, I am a close observer, and I afterwards made up - my mind that I knew why she had led me on to talk so much about the law - and my work in particular.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, you found that out!” Carson said, almost absently. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, my boy, it was about the time you and I were thinking of going in - together. It was all on your account.” - </p> - <p> - Carson stared straight at Garner. “<i>My</i> account? Oh no!” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, on your account. I've kept it from you all this time. I'm your - friend now in full—to the very bone, but at that time I felt too - sore to tell you. I'd lost all I cared for on earth, but I simply had too - much of primitive man left in me to let you know how well you stood. My - God, Carson, about that time I used to sit at my desk behind some old book - pretending to read, but just looking at you as you sat at work wondering - how it would feel to have what was yours. Then I watched you both - together; you seemed actually made for each other, an ideal couple. Then - came your—she refused you.” - </p> - <p> - “I know, I know, but why talk about it, Garner?” Carson had risen and - stood in the doorway in the rays of the morning sun. There was silence for - a moment. The church bells were ringing and negroes and whites were - passing along the street below. - </p> - <p> - “It may be good for me to speak of it and be done with it, or it may not,” - said Garner; “but this is what I was coming to. I've said it was a long - time before I could tell you that she was once—I don't know how she - is now, but she was at one time in love with you.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh no, no, she was never that!” Dwight said. “We were great friends, but - she never cared that much for me or for any one.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, it was a long time before I could say what I thought about that, - and I have only just now taken another step in self-renunciation. Carson, - I can now say that you didn't have a fair deal, and that I have reached a - point in which I want to see you get it. I think I know why she refused - you.” - </p> - <p> - “You do?” Dwight said, pale and excited, as he came away from the door and - leaned heavily against the wall near his friend. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, it was this way. I've studied it all out. She loved Albert as few - women love their brothers, and his grim end was an almost unbearable - shock. After his death, you know it leaked out that you had been Albert's - constant companion through his dissipation, almost, in fact, up to the - very end. She couldn't reconcile herself to your part, innocent as it was, - in the tragedy, and it simply killed the feeling she had for you. I - suppose it is natural to a character as strong as hers.” - </p> - <p> - “I've always feared that—that was the reason,” said Dwight, - falteringly, as he went back to the door and looked out. There was a droop - of utter dejection on him and his face seemed to have aged. “Garner,” he - said, suddenly, “there is no use denying anything. You have admitted your - love for her, why should I deny mine? I never cared for any other woman - and I never shall.” - </p> - <p> - “That's right, but you didn't get a fair deal, all the same,” said Garner. - “She's never looked for any sort of justification in your conduct; her - poor brother's death stands like a draped wall between you, but I know you - were not as black as you were painted. Carson, all the time you were - keeping pace with Albert Warren you were blind to the gulf ahead of him - and were simply glorying in his friendship—<i>because he was her - brother</i>. Ah, I know that feeling!” - </p> - <p> - Carson was silent, while Garner's gray eyes rested on him for a moment - full of conviction, and then he nodded. “Yes, I think that was it. It was - my ruination, but I could not get away from the fascination of his - companionship. He fairly worshipped her and used to talk of her constantly - when we were together, and he—he sometimes told me things she kept - back. He knew how I felt. I told him. Through him I seemed to be closer to - her. But when the news came that he was dead, and when I met her at the - funeral at the church, and caught her eye, I saw her shrink back in - abhorrence. She wouldn't go out with me ever again after that, and was - never exactly the same.” - </p> - <p> - “That was two years ago, my boy,” Garner said, significantly, “and your - character has changed. You are a better, firmer man. In fact, it seems to - me that your change dates from Albert Warren's death. But now I'm coming - to the thing that prompted me to say all this. I met Major Warren in the - post-office this morning. He was greatly excited. Carson, she has just - written him that she is coming home for a long stay and the old gentleman - is simply wild with delight.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, she's coming, then!” Dwight exclaimed, in surprise. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, and Keith and Bob and the rest of her adorers will go crazy over the - news and want to celebrate it. I didn't tell them. I wanted you to know it - first. There is one other thing. You know you can't tell whether there is - anything in an idle report, but the gossips say she has perhaps met her - fate down there. I've even heard his name—one Earle Sanders, a - well-to-do cotton merchant of good standing in the business world. But - I'll never believe she's engaged to him till the cards are out.” - </p> - <p> - “I really think it may be true,” Carson Dwight said, a firm, set - expression about his lips. “I've heard of him. He's a man of fine - character and intellect. Yes, it may be true, Garner.” - </p> - <p> - “Well,” and Garner drew himself up and folded his arms, “if it should - happen to be so, Carson, there would be only one thing to do, and that - would be to grin and bear it.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, that would be the only thing,” Dwight made answer. “She has a right - to happiness, and it would have been wrong for her to have tied herself to - me, when I was what I was, and when I am still as great a failure as I - am.” - </p> - <p> - He turned suddenly out onto the passage, and Garner heard his resounding - tread as he walked away. - </p> - <p> - “Poor old chap,” Garner mused, as he leaned forward and looked at the - threadbare toes of his slippers, “if he weathers this storm he'll make a - man right—if not, he'll go down with the great majority, the motley - throng meant for God only knows what purpose.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER VI. - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0007" id="linkimage-0007"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9061.jpg" alt="9061 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9061.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - HE Warren homestead was in a turmoil of excitement over Helen's return. - The ex-slaves of the family for miles around had assembled to celebrate - the occasion in quite the ante-bellum fashion. The men and grown boys sat - about the front lawn and on the steps of the long veranda and talked of - the day Helen was born, of her childhood, of her beauty and numerous - conquests, away from them, and of the bare possibility of her deigning to - accept the hand of some one of her powerful and wealthy suitors. - </p> - <p> - In her own chamber, a great square room with many windows, Helen, tall, - graceful, with light-brown eyes and almost golden hair, was receiving the - women and girls. She had brought a present suitable for each of them, as - they knew she would, and the general rejoicing was equal to that of an - old-time Georgia Christmas. - </p> - <p> - “You are all here,” Helen smiled, as she looked about the room, “except - Mam' Linda. Is she not well?” - </p> - <p> - “Yessum, she's well as common,” Jennie, a yellow house-maid, said, “as - well as she been since Pete had dat scrimmage wid de White Caps. Missie, - you gwine notice er gre't change in Mam' Lindy. Since dat turrible night, - while she seem strong in de body, she looks powerful weak in de face en - sperit. Unc' Lewis is worried about 'er. She des set in er cottage do' en - rock back an' fo'th all day long. You done heard 'bout dat lambastin', - 'ain't you, Missie?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, my father wrote me about it,” Helen replied, an expression of - sympathetic pain on her well-featured face, “but he didn't tell me that - mammy was taking it so hard.” - </p> - <p> - “He was tryin' ter keep you fum worryin',” Jennie said, observantly. - “Marster knowed how much sto' you set by yo' old mammy. He was de maddest - man you ever laid eyes on dat night, but he couldn't do nothin', fer it - was all over, en dem white trash done skedaddle back whar dey come fum.”. - </p> - <p> - “And was Pete so much to blame?” Helen asked, her voice shaking. - </p> - <p> - “Blame fer de company he been keepin', Missie—dat's all; but what - you gwine ter do wid er strappin' young nigger growin' up? It des like it - was in de old day fo' de war. De niggers had to have deir places ter meet - an' cut up shines. Dey been done too much of it at Ike Bowen's. De white - folks dat lived round dar couldn't sleep at night. It was one long shindig - or a fist-cuff scrap fum supper till daylight.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I wish Mam' Linda would come to see me,” Helen said. “I'm anxious - about her. If she isn't here soon I'll go to her.” - </p> - <p> - “She's comin' right on, Missie,” another negro girl said, “but she tol' - Unc' Lewis she was gwine ter wait till we all cleared out. She say you her - baby, en she ain't gwine ter be bothered wid so many, when she see you de - fust time after so long.” - </p> - <p> - “That's exactly like her,” Helen smiled. “Well, you all must go now, and, - Jennie, tell her I am dying to see her.” - </p> - <p> - The room was soon cleared of its chattering and laughing throng, and - Linda, supported by her husband, a stalwart mulatto, came from her cottage - behind the house and went up to Helen's room. She was short, rather - portly, about half white, and for that reason had a remarkably intelligent - face which bore the marks of a strong character. Entering the room, after - sharply enjoining her husband to wait for her in the hall, she went - straight up to Helen and laid her hand on the young lady's head. - </p> - <p> - “So I got my baby back once mo',” she said, tenderly. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I couldn't stay away, Mammy,” Helen said, with an indulgent smile. - “After all, home is the sweetest place on earth—but you mustn't - stand up; get a chair.” - </p> - <p> - The old woman obeyed, slowly placing the chair near that of her mistress - and sitting down. “I'm glad you got back, honey,” she said. “I loves all - my white folks, but you is my baby, en I never could talk to de rest of um - lak I kin ter you. Oh, honey, yo' old mammy has had lots en lots er - trouble!” - </p> - <p> - “I know, Mammy, father wrote me about it, and I've heard more since I got - here. I know how you love Pete.” - </p> - <p> - Linda folded her arms on her breast and leaned forward till her elbows - rested on her knees. Helen saw a wave of emotion shake her whole body as - she straightened up and faced her with eyes that seemed melting in grief. - “Honey,” she said, “folks said when de law come en give we all freedom dat - de good day was at hand. It was ter be a time er plenty en joy fer black - folks; but, honey, never while I was er slave did I had ter suffer what - I'm goin' thoo now. In de old time marster looked after us; de lash never - was laid on de back er one o' his niggers. No white pusson never dared to - hit one of us, en yit now in dis day er glorious freedom, er whole gang of - um come in de dead er night en tied my child wid ropes en tuck turn about - lashin' 'im. Honey, sometimes I think dey ain't no Gawd fer a pusson wid - one single streak er black blood in 'im. Ef dey is er Gawd fer sech es me, - why do He let me pass thoo what been put on me? I heard dat boy's cryin' - half er mile, honey, en stood in de flo' er my house en couldn't move, - listenin' en listenin' ter his screams en dat lash failin' on 'im. Den dey - let 'im loose en he come runnin' erlong de street ter find me—ter - find his mammy, honey—his mammy who couldn't do nothin' fer 'im. En - dar right at my feet he fell over in er faint. I thought he was dead en - never would open his eyes ergin.” - </p> - <p> - “And I wasn't here to comfort you!” Helen said, in a tearful tone of - self-reproach. “You were alone through it all.” - </p> - <p> - “No, I wasn't, honey. Thank de Lawd, dar is some er de right kind er white - folks left. Marse Carson Dwight heard it all fum his room en come over. He - raised Pete up en tuck 'im in an' laid 'im on de baid. He tuck 'im up in - his arms, honey, young marster did, en set to work to bring 'im to. An' - after de po' boy was easy en ersleep en de doctor gone off, Marse Carson - come ter me en tuck my hand. 'Mam' Lindy,' he said, es pale as ef he'd - been sick er long time, 'dis night's work has give me some'n' ter think - erbout. De best white men in de Souf won't stan' fer dis. Sech things - cayn't go on forever. Ef I go to de Legislature I'll see dat dey gwine ter - pass laws ter pertect you faithful old folks.” - </p> - <p> - “Carson said that?” Helen's voice was husky, her glance averted. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, en he was dead in earnest, honey; he wasn't des talkin' ter comfort - me. I know, kase I done hear suppen else dat happened since den.” - </p> - <p> - “What was that?” Helen asked. - </p> -<p> -“Why, dey say dat Marse Carson went straight down-town en tried ter find -somebody dat was in de mob. He heard Dan Willis was among 'em—you know -who he is, honey. He's er bad, desp'rate moonshine man. Well, Marse -Carson spoke his mind about 'im, an' dared 'im out in de open. Unc' -Lewis said Mr. Garner an' all Marse Carson's friends tried to stop - 'im, kase it would go dead agin 'im in his 'lection, but Marse Carson -wouldn't take back er word, en was so mad he couldn't hold in. En dat -another hard thing to bear, honey,” Linda went on. “Des think, Marse -Carson cayn't even try to help er po' old woman lak me widout ruinin' -his own chances.” - </p> - <p> - “Is it as serious as that?” Helen asked, with deep concern. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, honey, he never kin win his race lessen he act diffunt. Dey say dat - man Wiggin is laughin' fit ter kill hisse'f over de way he got de upper - hold. I told Marse Carson des t'other day he mustn't do dat way, but he - laughed in my face in de sweet way he always did have. 'Ef dey vote ergin - me fer dat, Mam' Lindy,' he say, 'deir votes won't be worth much.' Marse - Carson is sho got high principle, honey. His pa think he ain't worth much, - but <i>he's</i> all right. You mark my words, he's gwine ter make a gre't - big man—he gwine ter do dat kase he's got er tender heart in 'im, an - ain't afeard of anything dat walk on de yeath. He may lose dis one - 'lection, but he'll not stop. I know young white men, thoo en thoo, en I - never y it seen er better one.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0008" id="linkimage-0008_"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0067.jpg" alt="0067 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0067.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - “Have you—have you seen him recently?” Helen asked, surprised at the - catch in her voice. - </p> - <p> - “Oh yes, honey,” the old woman said, plaintively; “seem lak he know how - I'm sufferin', en he been comin' over often en talkin' ter me'n Lewis. - Seem lak he's so sad, honey, here late. Ain't you seed 'im yit, honey?” - </p> - <p> - “No, he hasn't been over,” Helen replied, rather awkwardly. “He will come, - though; he and I are good friends.” - </p> - <p> - “You gwine find 'im changed er lot, honey,” the old woman said. “Do you - know, I don't believe he ever got over Marse Albert's death. He warn't ter - blame 'bout dat, honey, dough I do believe he feel dat way. Seem lak we - never kin fetch up Marse Albert's name widout Marse Carson git sad. One - night here late when Lewis was talkin' 'bout when yo' pa went off en - fetched young master home, Marse Carson hung his head en say: 'Mam' Lindy, - I wish dat time could be go over ergin. I would act so diffunt. I never - seed whar all dem scrapes was leadin' to. But it learned me a lesson, Mam' - Lindy.'” - </p> - <p> - “That's it,” Helen said, bitterly, as if to herself; “he survived. He has - profited by the calamity, but my poor, dear brother—” She went no - further, for her voice broke and her eyes filled with tears. - </p> - <p> - “Don't think erbout dat, honey,” old Linda said, consolingly. “You got yo' - one great trouble lak I has, but you is at home wid we all now, en you - must not be sad.” - </p> - <p> - “I don't intend to be, Mammy,” Helen said, wiping her eyes on her - handkerchief. “We are going to try to do something to keep Pete out of - trouble. Father thinks it is his associates that are to blame. We must try - in future to keep him away from bad company.” - </p> - <p> - “Dat what I want ter do, honey,” the old woman said, “en ef I des had - somewhar ter send 'im so he could be away fum dis town I'd be powerful - glad.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER VII. - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0009" id="linkimage-0009_"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9070.jpg" alt="9070 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9070.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - Helen anticipated, the young ladies of the town, her most intimate friends - and former school-mates, came in a body that afternoon to see her. The - reception formally opened in the great parlor down-stairs, but it was not - many minutes before they all found themselves in Helen's chamber - fluttering about and chattering like doves in their spring plumage. - </p> - <p> - “There's no use putting it off longer,” Ida Tarpley, Helen's cousin, - laughed; “they are all bent on seeing your <i>things</i>, and they will - simply spend the night here if you don't get them out.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I think that would look so vain and silly in me,” Helen protested, - her color rising. “I don't like to exhibit my wardrobe as if I were a - dressmaker, or a society woman who is hard up and trying to dispose of - them.” - </p> - <p> - “The idea of your not doing it, dear,” Mary King, a little blonde, said, - “when not one of us has seen a decent dress or hat since the summer - visitors went away last fall.” - </p> - <p> - “Leave it to me,” Ida Tarpley laughed. “You girls get off the bed. I want - something to lay them on. If it were only evening I'd make her put on that - gown she wore at the Governor's ball. You remember what the <i>Constitution's</i> - society reporter said about it. He said it was a poet's dream. If I ever - get one it will be <i>in</i> a dream. You must really wear it to your - dance, Helen.” - </p> - <p> - “<i>My</i> dance?” Helen said, in surprise. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I hope I'm not telling secrets,” Ida said; “but I met Keith Gordon - and Bob Smith in town as I came on. They had a list and were taking - subscriptions from all the young men. They had already enough put down to - buy a house and lot. They say they are going to give you the swellest - dance that was eyer heard of. Bob said that it simply had to surpass - anything you'd been to in Augusta or Atlanta. Expense is not to be - considered. The finest band in Chattanooga has already been engaged; the - refreshments are to be brought from there by a caterer and a dozen expert - waiters. A carload of flowers have been ordered. It is to open with a - grand march.” Ida swung her hands and body comically to and fro as if in - the cake walk, and bowed low. “Nobody is to be allowed to dance with you - who hasn't an evening suit on, and <i>then</i> only once. They are all - crazy about you, Helen. I never could understand it. I've tried to copy - the look you have in the eyes hundreds of times, but it won't have the - slightest effect.” - </p> - <p> - “There's only one explanation of it,” Miss Wimberley, another girl, - remarked; “it is simply because she really likes them all.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I really do, as for that,” Helen said; “and I think it is awfully - nice of them to give me such a dance. It's enough to turn a girl's head. - Well, if Ida really is going to pull out my things, I'll go down-stairs - and make you a lemonade.” - </p> - <p> - Later in the afternoon the young ladies had all gone except Ida Tarpley, - who lingered with Helen on the veranda. - </p> - <p> - “I'm glad the girls didn't have the bad taste to embarrass you by - questioning you about Mr. Sanders,” Ida said. “Of course, it is all over - town. Uncle spoke of the possibility of it to some one and that put it - afloat. I'm anxious to see him, Helen. I know he must be nice—everything, - in fact, that a man ought to be, for you always had high ideals.” - </p> - <p> - Helen flushed almost angrily, and she drew herself erect and stood quite - rigid, looking at her cousin. - </p> - <p> - “Ida,” she said, “I don't like what you have just said.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, dearest, I'm sorry, but I thought—” - </p> - <p> - “That's the trouble about a small town,” Helen went on. “People take such - liberties with you, and about the most delicate things. Down in Augusta my - friends never would think of saying I was actually engaged to a man till - it was announced. But here at home it is in every mouth before they have - even seen the gentleman in question.” - </p> - <p> - “But you really have been receiving constant attentions from Mr. Sanders - for more than a year, haven't you, dear?” Miss Tarpley asked, blandly. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, but what of that?” Helen retorted. “He and I are splendid friends. - He has been very kind and thoughtful of my comfort, and I like him. He is - noble, sincere, and good. He extended the sweetest sympathy to me when I - went down there under my great grief, and I never can forget it, but, - nevertheless, Ida, I have not promised to marry him.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I see, it is not actually settled yet,” Miss Tarpley said. “Well, I'm - glad. I'm very, very glad.” - </p> - <p> - “You are glad?” Helen said, wonderingly. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I am. I'm glad because I don't want you to go away off down there - and marry a stranger to us. I really hope something will break it up. I - know Mr. Sanders must be awfully fond of you—any man would be who - had a ghost of a chance of winning you—and I know your aunt has been - doing all in her power to bring the match about—but I understand - you, dear, and I am afraid you would not be happy.” - </p> - <p> - “Why do you say that so—so positively?” Helen asked, coldly. - </p> - <p> - “Because,” Ida said, impulsively, “I don't believe a girl of your - disposition ever could love in the right way more than once, and—” - </p> - <p> - “And what?” Helen demanded, her proud lips compressed, her eyes flashing - defiantly. - </p> - <p> - “Well, I may be wrong, dear,” Miss Tarpley went on, “but if you were not - actually in love before you went to Augusta, you were very near it.” - </p> - <p> - “How absurd!” Helen exclaimed, with a little angry toss of her head. - </p> - <p> - “Do you remember the night our set drove out to the Henderson party? I - went with Mr. Garner and Carson Dwight took you? Oh, Helen, I met you and - Carson walking together in the moonlight that evening under the - apple-trees in the old meadow, and if ever a pair of human beings really - loved each other you two must have done so that night. I saw it in his - happy, triumphant face, and in the fact, Helen dear, that you allowed him - to be with you so much, when you knew other admirers were waiting to see - you.” - </p> - <p> - Helen looked down; her face was clouded over, her proud lip twitched. - </p> - <p> - “Ida,” she said, tremulously, “I don't want you ever again to mention - Carson Dwight's name to me in—in that way. You have no right to.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I have,” Ida protested, firmly. “I have the right as a loyal friend - to the best, most suffering, and noblest young man I ever knew. I read you - like a book, dear. You really cared very, very much for Carson once, but - after your great loss you never thought the same of him again.” - </p> - <p> - “No, nor I never shall,” Helen said, firmly. “I admire him and shall treat - him as a good friend when we meet, but that will be the end of it. Whether - I cared for him or not, as girls care for young men, is neither here nor - there. It is over with.” - </p> - <p> - “And all simply because he was a little wild at the time your poor brother—” - </p> - <p> - “Stop!” Helen said; “don't argue the matter. I can only now associate him - with the darkest hour of my life. I'm tempted to tell you something, Ida,” - and Helen bowed her head for a moment, and then went on in an unsteady - voice. “When my poor brother's trunk was brought home, it was my duty to - put the things it contained in order. There I found some letters to him, - and one dated only two days before Albert's death was from—from - Carson Dwight. I read only a portion of it, but it revealed a page in poor - Albert's life that I had never read—never dreamed could be - possible.” - </p> - <p> - “But Carson,” Ida Tarpley exclaimed; “what did <i>he</i> have to do with - that?” - </p> - <p> - Helen swallowed the lump in her throat, and with a cold, steely gleam in - her eyes she said, bitterly: “He could have held out his hand with the - superior strength you think he has and drawn the poor boy back from the - brink, but he didn't. The words he wrote about it were light, flippant, - and heartless. He treated the whole awful situation as a joke, as if—as - if he <i>himself</i> were familiar with such unmentionable things.” - </p> - <p> - “Ah, I begin to understand it all now!” Ida sighed. “That letter, coupled - with Cousin Albert's awful death, was such a terrible shock that you - cannot feel the same towards Carson. But oh, Helen, you would pity him if - you knew him now as I do. He has never altered in his feelings towards - you. In fact, it seems to me that he loves you even more deeply than ever. - And, dear, if you had seen his patient efforts to make a better man of - himself you'd not harbor such thoughts against him. You will understand - Carson some day, but it may then be too late. I don't believe a woman ever - has a real sweetheart but once. You may marry the man your aunt wants you - to take, but your heart will some day turn back to the other. You will - remember, too, and bitterly, that you condemned him for a youthful fault - which you ought to have pardoned.” - </p> - <p> - “Do you think so, Ida?” Helen asked, her soft, brown eyes averted. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, and you'll remember, too, that while his other friends were trying - to help him stick to his resolutions you turned against him. He's going to - make a great and good man, Helen. I've known that for some time. He is - having his troubles, but even they will help him to be stronger in the - end. His greatest trial is going on right now, while folks are saying that - you are going to marry another man. Pshaw! you may say what you like about - Mr. Sanders' good qualities, but I know I shall not like him,” concluded - Ida, with a smile, as she turned to go. “He is a usurper, and I'm dead - against him.” - </p> - <p> - Helen remained on the veranda after her cousin had left till the twilight - gathered about her. She was about to go in, as it was near tea-time, when - she heard a grumbling voice down the street and saw old Uncle Lewis - returning from town, driving his son, the troublesome Peter, before him. - </p> - <p> - “You go right thoo dat gate on back ter dat house, you black imp er - 'straction!” he thundered, “er I'll tek er boa'd en lambast de life out'n - you. Here it is night-time en you ain't chop no stove-wood fer de big - house kitchen, en been lyin' roun' dem cotton wagons raisin' mo' rows wid - dem mountain white men.” - </p> - <p> - “What's the matter, Uncle Lewis?” Helen asked, as the boy sulkily passed - round the corner of the house and the old man, out of breath, paused at - the steps. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, Missy, you don't know what me'n' Mam' Lindy got to bear up under. We - don't know how ter manage dat boy. Lindy right now is out'n 'er head wid - worry. Buck Black come tol' us 'bout an hour ago dat Pete en some mo' - triflin' niggers was down at de warehouse sassin' some mountain white men. - Buck heard Pete say dat Johnson en his gang couldn't whip him ergin dout - gittin' in trouble, en dey was in er inch of er big row when de marshal - busted it up. Buck ain't no fool, fer a black man, Missy, en he told me'n' - Lindy ef we don't manage ter git Pete out'n de company he keeps dat dem - white men will sho string 'im up.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, something has to be done, that's plain,” said Helen, - sympathetically. “I know Mam' Linda must be worrying, and I'll go down to - see her this evening. It doesn't seem to me that a town like this is best - for a boy like Pete. I'll speak to father about it, Uncle Lewis. It won't - do to have Mammy bothered like this. It will kill her. She is not strong - enough to stand it.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, Missy,” the old man said, “I wish you would try ter do some'n'. Me'n' - Lindy is sho at de end er our rope.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I promise you I'll do all I can, Uncle Lewis,” Helen said, and, - much relieved, the old negro trudged homeward. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER VIII. - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0010" id="linkimage-0010"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9078.jpg" alt="9078 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9078.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - LOCAL institution in which “the gang” was more or less interested was - known as the “Darley Club.” It occupied the entire upper floor of a - considerable building on the main street, and had been organized, - primarily, by the older married men of the town to give the young men of - the best families a better meeting-place than the bar-rooms and offices of - the hotels. At first the older men looked in occasionally to see that the - rather rigid rules of the institution were being kept. But men of - middle-age and past, who have comfortable firesides, are not fond of the - noisy gatherings of their original prototypes, and the Club was soon left - to the management of the permanent president, Mr. Wade Tingle, editor of - the <i>Headlight</i>. - </p> - <p> - Wade endeavored, to the best of his genial nature, to enforce all rules, - collect all dues, and impose all fines, but he wasn't really the man for - the place. He accepted what cash was handed to him, trying to remember the - names of the payers and amounts as he wrote his editorials, political - notes, and social gossip, ending up at the end of each month with no money - at all to pay the rent or the wages of the negro factotum. However, there - was always an outlet from this embarrassment, for Wade had only to draw a - long face as he met some of the well-to-do stay-at-homes and say that - “club expenses were somehow running short,” and without question the - shortage was made up. Wade had tried to be officially stern, too, on - occasion. Once when Keith Gordon had violated what Wade termed club - discipline, not to say club etiquette, Wade threatened to be severe. But - it happened to be a point upon which there was a division of opinion, and - Keith also belonged to “the gang.” It had happened this way: Keith had a - certain corner in the Club reading-room where he was wont to write his - letters of an evening, and coming down after supper one night he - discovered that the attendant had locked the door and gone off to supper. - Keith was justly angry. He stood at the door for a few minutes, and then, - being something of an athlete, he stepped back, made a run the width of - the sidewalk, and broke the lock, left the door hanging on a single hinge, - and went up and calmly wrote his letters. As has been intimated, Wade took - a serious view of this violation of club dignity, his main contention - being that Keith ought to have the lock repaired and the hinge replaced. - However, Keith just as firmly stood on his rights, his contention being - that a member of the Club in good standing could not be withheld from his - rights by the mere carelessness of a negro or a twenty-five cent cast-iron - lock. So it was that, in commemoration of the incident, the door remained - without the lock and hinge for many a day. - </p> - <p> - It was in this building that the grand ball in honor of Helen Warren's - home-coming was to be given. During the entire preceding day Bob Smith and - Keith Gordon worked like happy slaves. The floor had been roughened by - roller-skating, and a carpenter with plane and sand-paper was smoothing - it, Bob giving it its finishing touch by whittling sperm candles over it - and rubbing in the shavings with the soles of his shoes as he pirouetted - about, his right arm curved around an imaginary waist. The billiard-tables - were pushed back against the wall, the ladies' dressing-rooms thoroughly - scoured and put in order, and the lamps cleaned and trimmed. Keith had - brought down from his home some fine oil-paintings, and these were hung - appropriately. But Keith's <i>chef-d'ouvre</i> of arrangement and - decoration was a happy inspiration, and he was enjoining it on the - initiated ones to keep it as a surprise for Helen. He had once heard her - say that her favorite flower was the wild daisy, and as they were now in - bloom, and grew in profusion in the fields around the town, Keith had - ordered several wagon-loads of them gathered, and now the walls of the - ballroom were fairly covered with them. Graceful festoons of the flowers - hung from the ceiling, draped the doorways, and rose in beautiful mounds - on the white-clothed refreshment-tables. - </p> - <p> - As a special favor he admitted Carson Dwight in at the carefully guarded - door at dusk on the evening of the ball, first drawing down the blinds and - lighting the candles and lamps that his chum might have the full benefit - of the scene as it would strike Helen on her arrival. - </p> - <p> - “Isn't that simply superb?” he asked. “Do you reckon they gave her - anything prettier while she was down there? I don't believe it, Carson. I - think this is the dandiest room a girl ever tripped a toe in.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, it's all right,” Dwight said, admiringly. “It is really great, and - she will appreciate it keenly. She is that way.” - </p> - <p> - “I think so myself,” said Keith. “I've been nervous all day, though, old - man. I've been watching every train.” - </p> - <p> - “Afraid the band wouldn't come?” asked Dwight. - </p> - <p> - “No, those coons can be depended on; they will be down in full force with - the best figure-caller in the South. No, I was afraid, though, that Helen - might have written to that Augusta chump, and that he would come up. That - certainly would give the thing cold feet.” - </p> - <p> - “Ah!” Carson exclaimed; “I see.” - </p> - <p> - “The dear girl wouldn't rub it in on us to that extent, old man,” Keith - said. “I know it now. She really may be engaged to him, and she may not, - but she knows how we feel, and it's bully of her not to invite him. It - would really have been a wet blanket to the whole business. We'd have to - treat him decently, as a visitor, you know, but I'd rather have taken - castor-oil for my part of it. All the gang except you were over to see her - Sunday afternoon; why didn't you go?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, you know I live only next door, with an open gate between, and I - thought I'd better give my place to you fellows who don't have my - opportunity. I've already seen her. In fact, she ran over to see my mother - yesterday.” - </p> - <p> - The ball was in full swing when Carson arrived that night. The street in - front of the club was crowded with carriages, buggies, and livery-stable - “hacks.” The introductory grand march was in progress, and when Carson - went to the improvised dressing-room in charge of Skelt to check his hat - he found Garner standing before a mirror tugging at the lapels of an - evening coat and trying to adjust a necktie which kept climbing higher - than it should. Darley was just at the point in its post-bellum struggle - where evening dress for men was a thing more of the luxurious past than - the stern present, and Dwight readily saw that his partner had persuaded - himself for once to don borrowed plumage. - </p> - <p> - “What's the matter?” Carson asked, as he thrust his hat-check into the - pocket of his immaculate white waistcoat. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, the damn thing don't fit!” said Garner, in high disgust. “I know now - that my father has a hump, or did have when he ordered this suit for his - wedding-trip. The tailor who designed this <i>costeem de swaray</i> tried - to help him out, but he has transferred the hump to me by other means than - heredity. Look how the back of it sticks out from my neck!” - </p> - <p> - “That's because you twist your body to see it in the glass,” said Carson, - consolingly. “It's not so bad when you stand straight.” - </p> - <p> - “It's a case of not seeing others as they see you, eh?” Garner said, - better satisfied. “I haven't taken a chew of tobacco to-night. I wouldn't - splotch this shirt for the world. I couldn't spit farther than an inch - with this collar on, anyway. She's holding the reel for me. I can't dance - anything else, but I can go through that pretty well if I get at the end - and watch the others. You'd better hurry up and see her card. There is a - swell gang coming on the ten-o'clock train from Atlanta, and they all know - her.” - </p> - <p> - It was during the interval following the third number on the programme - that Carson met Helen promenading with Keith and offered her his arm. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, isn't it simply superb?” she said, when Keith had bowed himself away - and they had joined the other strollers round the big, flower-perfumed - room. “Carson, really I actually cried for joy just now in the - dressing-room. I declare I never want to go away from home again. I'll - never have such devoted friends as these.” - </p> - <p> - “It is nice of you to look at it that way, Helen,” he said, “after the gay - time you have had in Augusta and other cities.” - </p> - <p> - “At least it is honest and sincere here at home,” she answered, “while - down there it is—well, full of strife, social competition, and - jealousies. I really; got homesick and simply had to come back.” - </p> - <p> - “We are simply delighted to have you again,” he said, almost fearing to - look upon her, for in her exquisite evening gown and the proud poise of - her head she seemed more beautiful and imperious, and farther removed from - his hopes than he had thought her even in the darkest hours of her first - refusal to condone his fatal offence. - </p> - <p> - She was looking straight into his eyes with a thoughtful, questioning - stare, when she said: “They all seem the same, Carson, except you. Bob - Smith, Keith, and even Mr. Garner are just like I left them, but somehow - you are altered. You look so much older, so much more serious. Is it - politics that is weighing you down—making you worry?” - </p> - <p> - “Well,” he laughed, evasively, “politics is not exactly the easiest game - in the world, and the bare fear that I may not succeed, after all, is - enough to make a fellow of my temperament worry. It seems to be my last - throw of the dice, Helen. My father will lose all faith in me if this does - not go through.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I know it is serious,” the girl said. “Keith and Mr. Garner have - talked to me about it. They say they have never seen you so much absorbed - in anything before. You really must win, Carson—you simply must!” - </p> - <p> - “But this is no time to talk over sordid politics,” he said, with a smile. - “This is your party and it must be made delightful.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I have my worries, too,” she said, gravely. “I felt a queer twinge of - conscience to-night when all the servants came to see me before I left - home. They were all so happy except Mam' Linda. She tried to act like the - rest, but, Carson, her trouble about that worthless boy is actually - killing the dear old woman. She has her pride, too, and it has been - wounded to the quick. She was always proud of the fact that my father - never had whipped one of his slaves. I've heard her boast of it a hundred - times; and now that she no longer belongs to us in reality, and her only - child was beaten so cruelly, she simply can't get over it.” - </p> - <p> - “I knew she felt that way,” Dwight said, sympathetically. - </p> - <p> - Helen's hand tightened unconsciously on his arm as they were passing by - the corner containing the orchestra. “Do you know,” she said, “Mam' Linda - told me that of all the people who had been to see her since then that you - had been the kindest, most thoughtful, the most helpful? Carson, that was - very, very sweet of you.” - </p> - <p> - “I was only electioneering,” he said, with a flush. “I was after Uncle - Lewis's vote and Mam' Linda's influence.” - </p> - <p> - “No, you were not,” Helen declared. “It was pure, unadulterated - unselfishness on your part. You were sorry for her and for Uncle Lewis and - even Pete, who certainly needed punishment of some sort for the way he's - been conducting himself. Yes, it was only your good heart. I know that, - for several persons have told me you have even gone so far as to let the - affair hamper you in your political career. Oh, I know all about what your - opponent is saying, and I know mountain people well enough to know you - have given him a powerful weapon. They are terribly wrought up over the - race troubles, and it would be easy enough for them to misunderstand your - exact feeling. Oh, Carson, you must not let even Mam' Linda's trouble - stand between you and your high aim. Taking up her cause will perhaps not - do a bit of good, for no one person can solve so vital a problem as that - is, and your agitation of it may wreck your last hope.” - </p> - <p> - “I've promised to keep my mouth shut, if Dan Willis and men of his sort - will not stay right at my heels with their threats. My campaign managers—the - gang, who hold a daily caucus at the den and lay down my rules of conduct—have - exacted that much from me on the penalty of letting me go by the board if - I disobey.” - </p> - <p> - “The dear boys!” Helen exclaimed. “I like every one of them, they are so - loyal to you. The close friendship of you all for one another is simply - beautiful.” - </p> - <p> - “Coming back to the inevitable Pete,” Dwight remarked, a few minutes - later. “I've been watching him since he was whipped, and I know he is in - great danger of getting even more deeply into trouble. He has a stupidly - resentful disposition, as many of his race have, and he is going around - making surly threats about Johnson, Wiggin, and others. If he keeps that - up and they get hold of it he will certainly get into serious trouble.” - </p> - <p> - “My father was speaking of that to-night,” Helen said. “And he was - thinking if there were any way of getting the boy away from his idle town - associates that it might prevent trouble and ease Mam' Linda's mind.” - </p> - <p> - “I was thinking of that the other day when I saw Uncle Lewis searching for - him among the idle negroes,” said Carson; “and I have an idea.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, you have? What is it?” Helen asked, eagerly. - </p> - <p> - “Why, Pete always has seemed to like me and take my advice, and as there - is, plenty of work on my farm for such a hand as he is I could give him a - good place and wages over there where he'd be practically removed from his - present associates.” - </p> - <p> - “Splendid, splendid!” Helen cried; “and will you do it?” - </p> - <p> - “Why, certainly, and right away,” Carson answered. “If you will have Mam' - Linda send him down to me in the morning I'll give him some instructions - and a good sharp talk, and I'll make my overseer at the farm put him to - work.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, it is splendid!” Helen declared. “It will be such good news for Mam' - Linda. She'd rather have him work for you than any one in the world.” - </p> - <p> - “There comes Wade to claim his dance,” Dwight said, suddenly; “and I must - be off.” - </p> - <p> - “Where are you going?” she asked, almost regretfully. - </p> - <p> - “To the office to work on political business—dozens and dozens of - letters to answer. Then I'm coming back for my waltz with you. I sha'n't - fail.” And as he put on his hat and threaded his way through the whirling - mass of dancers down to the street, he recalled with something of a shock - that not once in their talk had he even <i>thought</i> of his rival. He - slowed up in the darkness and leaned against a wall. There was a strange - sinking of his heart as he faced the grim reality that stretched out - drearily before him. She was, no doubt, to be the wife of another man. He - had lost her. She was not for him, though there in the glare of the - ballroom, amid the sensuous strains of music, in the perfume of the - flowers dying in her service, she had seemed as close to him in heart, - soul, and sympathy as the night he and she— - </p> - <p> - He had reached his office, a little one-story brick building in the row of - lawyers' offices on the side street leading from the post-office to the - courthouse, and he unlocked the door and went in and lighted the little - murky lamp on his desk and pulled down a package of unanswered letters. - </p> - <p> - Yes, he must work—work with that awful pain in his breast, the dry, - tightening sensation in his throat, the maddening vision of her dazzling - beauty and grace and sweetness before him. He dipped his pen, drew the - paper towards him, and began to write: “My dear Sir,—In receiving - the cordial assurances of your support in the campaign before me, I desire - to thank you most heartily and to—” - </p> - <p> - He laid the pen down and leaned back. “I can't do it, at least not - to-night,” he said. “Not while she is there looking like that and with my - waltz to come, and yet it must be done. I've lost her, and I am only - making it harder to bear. Yes, I must work—work!” - </p> - <p> - The pen went into the ink again. On the still night air came the strains - of music, the mellow, sing-song voice of the figure-caller in the “square” - dance, the whir and patter of many feet. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER IX. - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0011" id="linkimage-0011"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9089.jpg" alt="9089 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9089.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - EAVING Carson Dwight, Wade Tingle, and Bob Smith chatting about the ball - in the den the next morning, Garner went to the office, bit off a chew of - tobacco, and plunged into work with a vigor which indicated that he was - almost ashamed of his departure from his beaten track into the unusual - fields of social gayety. He still wore the upright collar and white - necktie of the night before, but the hitherto carefully guarded expanse of - shirt-front was already in imminent danger of losing all that had once - recommended it as a presentable garment. - </p> - <p> - With his small hand well spread over the page of the book he was - consulting, he had become oblivious to his surroundings when suddenly a - man stood in the doorway. He was tall and gaunt and wore a broad-brimmed - hat, a cotton checked shirt, jean trousers supported by a raw-hide belt, - and a pair of tall boots which, as he stood fiercely eying Garner, he - angrily lashed with his riding-whip. It was Dan Willis. His face was - slightly flushed from drink, and his eyes had the glare even his best - friends had learned to tear and tried to avoid. - </p> - <p> - “Whar's that that dude pardner o' yourn?” he asked. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, you mean Dwight!” Garner had had too much experience in the handling - of men to change countenance over any sudden turn of affairs, either for - or against his interests, and he had, also, acquired admirable skill in - most effective temporizing. “Why, let me see, Dan,” he went on, after he - had paused for fully a moment, carefully inspected the lines he was - reading, frowned as if not quite satisfied therewith, and then slowly - turned down a leaf. “Let me think. Oh, you want to see Carson! Sit down; - take a chair.” - </p> - <p> - “I don't want to set down!” Willis thundered. “I want to see that damned - dude, and I want to see him right off.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, that's it!” said Garner. “You are in a <i>hurry!</i>” And then, from - the rigid setting of his jaw, it was plain that the lawyer had decided on - the best mode of handling the specimen glowering down upon him. “Oh yes, I - remember now, Willis, that you were loaded up a few nights ago looking for - that chap. Now, advice is cheap—that is, the sort I'm going to give - you. Under ordinary circumstances I'd charge a fee for it. My advice to - you is to straddle that horse of yours and get out of this town. You are - looking for trouble—great, big, far-reaching trouble.” - </p> - <p> - “You hit the nail that pop, Bill Garner,” the mountaineer snorted. “I'm - expectin' to git trouble, or <i>give</i> trouble, an' I hain't goin' to - lose time nuther. This settlement was due several days ago, but got put - off.” - </p> - <p> - “Look here, Willis”—Garner stood up facing him—“you may not be - a fool, but you are acting powerfully like one. You are letting that - measly little candidate for the legislature make a cat's-paw of you. - That's what you're doing. He knows, if he can get up a shooting-scrap - between you and my pardner over that negro-whipping business, it will turn - a few mountain votes his way. If you get shot, Wiggin will have more - charges to make; and if Carson was to get the worst of it, the boy would - be clean out of the skunk's way. You and Wiggin are both in bad business.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, that's <i>my</i> lookout!” the mountaineer growled, beside himself - in rage. “Carson Dwight said I was with Johnson the night the gang came in - and whipped them coons, and—” - </p> - <p> - “Well, you <i>were</i>,” said Garner, as suddenly as if he were - browbeating a witness. “What's the use to lie about it?” - </p> - <p> - “Lie—you say I—?” - </p> - <p> - “I said I didn't <i>want</i> you to lie about it,” said Garner, calmly. “I - know half the mob, and respect most of them. I have an idea that some of - my own kinsfolk was along that night. They thought they were doing right - and acting in the best interests of the community. That's neither here nor - there. The men that were licked were negroes, and most of them bad ones at - that, but when a big, strapping man of your stamp comes with blood in his - eye and a hunk of metal on his hip, looking for the son of an old - Confederate soldier, who is a Democratic candidate for the legislature, - and a good all-round white citizen, why, I say that is the time to call a - halt, and to call it out loud! I happen to know a few of the grand jury, - and if there is trouble of a serious nature in this town to-day, I can - personally testify to enough deliberation in your voice and eye this - morning to jerk your neck out of joint.” - </p> - <p> - “What the hell do I care for you or your law?” Dan Willis snorted. “It's - what that damned dude said about <i>me</i> that he's got to swallow, and - if he's in this town I'll find him. A fellow told me if he wasn't here - he'd be in Keith Gordon's room. I don't know whar that is, but I kin find - out.” Turning abruptly, Willis strode out into the street again. - </p> - <p> - “The devil certainly is to pay now,” Garner said, with his deepest frown - as he closed the law-book, thrust it back into its dusty niche in his - bookcase, and put on his hat. “Carson is still up there with those boys, - and that fellow may find him any minute. Carson won't take back a thing. - He's as mad about the business as Willis is. I wonder if I can possibly - manage to keep them apart.” - </p> - <p> - On his way to the den he met Pole Baker standing on the corner of the - street by a load of wood, which Pole had brought in to sell. Hurriedly, - Garner explained the situation, ending by asking the farmer if he could - see any way of getting Willis out of town. - </p> - <p> - “I couldn't work him myself,” Baker said, “fer the dern skunk hain't any - more use fer me than I have fer him, but I reckon I kin put some of his - pals onto the job.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, go ahead, Pole,” Garner urged. “I'll run up to the room and try to - detain Carson. For all you do, don't let Willis come up there.” - </p> - <p> - Garner found the young men still in the den chatting about the ball and - Carson's campaign. - </p> - <p> - Wade Tingle sat at the table with several sheets of paper before him, upon - which, in a big, reporter's hand, he had been writing a glowing account of - “the greatest social event” in the history of the town. - </p> - <p> - “I've got a corking write-up, Bill,” he said, enthusiastically. “I've just - been reading it to the gang. It is immense. Miss Helen sent me a full - memorandum of what the girls wore, and, for a green hand, I think I have - dressed 'em up all right.” - </p> - <p> - “The only criticism I made on it, Garner,” spoke up Keith from his bed in - the corner, where he lay fully dressed, “is that Wade has ended all of - Helen's descriptions by adding, 'and diamonds.' I'll swear I'm no critic - of style in writing, but that eternal 'and diamonds, and diamonds, and - diamonds,' at the end of every paragraph, sounds so monotonous that it - gets funny. He even had Miss Sally Ware's plain black outfit tipped off - with 'and diamonds.'” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I look at it this way, Bill,” Wade said, earnestly, as Garner sat - down, “Of course, the girls who had them on would not like to see them - left out, for they are nice things to have, and, on the other hand, those - who were short in that direction would feel sorter out of it.” - </p> - <p> - “I think if he had just written 'jewels' once in awhile,” Keith said, “it - would sound all right, and leave something to the imagination.” - </p> - <p> - “That might help,” Garner said, his troubled glance on Carson's rather - grave face; “but see that you don't write it 'jewelry.'” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I'll accept the amendment,” Wade said, as he began to scratch his - manuscript and rewrite. - </p> - <p> - Carson Dwight stood up. “Did you leave the office open?” he asked Garner. - “I've got to shape up that Holcolm deed and consult the records.” - </p> - <p> - “Let it go for a while. I want to look it over first,” Garner said, rather - suddenly. “Sit down. I want to talk to you about the—the race. - You've got a ticklish proposition before you, old boy, and I'd like to see - you put it through.” - </p> - <p> - “Hear, hear!” cried Keith, sitting up on the edge of his bed. “Balls and - what girls wear belong to the regular run of life, but when the chief of - the gang is about to be beaten by a scoundrel who will hesitate at - nothing, it's time to be wide awake.” - </p> - <p> - “That's it,” said Garner, his brow ruffled, his ear open to sounds - without, his uneasy eyes on the group around him. And for several minutes - he held them where they sat, listening to his wise and observant views of - the matter in hand. Suddenly, while he was in the midst of a remark, a - foot-fall sounded on the long passage without. It was heavy, loud, and - striding. Garner paused, rose, went to the bureau, and from the top drawer - took out a revolver he always kept either there or in his desk at the - office. There was a firm whiteness about his lips which was new to his - friends. - </p> - <p> - “Carson,” he said, “have you got your gun?” and he stood staring at the - doorway. - </p> - <p> - A shadow fell on the floor; a man entered. It was Pole Baker, and he - looked around him in surprise, his inquiring stare on Garner's unwonted - mien and revolver. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, it's you!” Garner exclaimed. “Ah, I thought—” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I come to tell you that—” Baker hesitated, as if uncertain - whether he was betraying confidence, and then catching Garner's warning - glance, he said, non-committally: “Say, Bill, that feller you and me was - talkin' about has jest gone home. I reckon you won't get yore money out of - him to-day.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, well, it was a small matter, anyway, Pole,” Garner said, in a tone of - appreciative relief, as he put the revolver back in the drawer and closed - it. “I'll mention it to him the next time he's in town.” - </p> - <p> - “Say, what was the matter with you just now, Garner?” Wade Tingle asked - over the top of his manuscript. “I thought you were going to ask Carson to - fight a duel.” - </p> - <p> - But with his hand on Dwight's arm Garner was moving to the door. “Come on, - lot's get to work,” he said, with a deep breath and a grateful side glance - at Baker. - </p> - <p> - In front of the office one of Carson's farm wagons drawn by a pair of - mules was standing. Tom Hill-yer, Carson's overseer and general manager, - sat on the seat, and behind him stood Pete Warren, ready for his stay in - the country. - </p> - <p> - “Miss Helen's made quick work of it, I see,” Carson remarked. “She's - determined to get that rascal out of temptation.” - </p> - <p> - “You ought to give him a sharp talking to,” said Garner. “He's got - entirely too much lip for his own good. Skelt told me this morning that if - Pete doesn't dry up some of that gang will hang him before he is a month - older. He doesn't know any better, and means nothing by it, but he has - already made open threats against Johnson and Willis. You understand those - men well enough to know that in such times as these a negro can't do that - with impunity.” - </p> - <p> - “I agree with you, and I'll stop and speak to him now.” - </p> - <p> - When Carson came in and sat down at his desk, a few moments later, Garner - looked across at him and smiled. - </p> - <p> - “You certainly let him off easy,” he said. “I could have thrown a - Christmas turkey down the scamp's throat through that grin of his. I saw - you run your hand in your pocket and knew he was bleeding you.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, well, I reckon I'm a failure at that sort of thing,” Dwight admitted, - with a sheepish smile. “I started in by saying that he must not be so - foolhardy as to make open threats against any of those men, and he said: - 'Looky here, Marse Carson, dem white rapscallions cut gashes in my body - deep enough ter plant corn in, an' I ain't gwine ter love 'em fer it. <i>You</i> - wouldn't, you know you wouldn't.'” - </p> - <p> - “And he had you there,” Garner said, grimly. “Well, they may say what they - please up North about our great problem, but nothing but time and the good - Lord can solve it. You and I can tell that negro to keep his mouth shut - from sunup till sun-down, but I happen to know that he had a remote white - ancestor that was the proudest, hardest fighter that ever swung a sword. - Some of the rampant agitators say that deportation is the only solution. - Huh! if you deported a lot of full-blood blacks along with such chaps as - this one, it would be only a short time before the yellow ones would have - the rest in bondage, and so history would be going backward instead of - forward. I guess it's going forward right now if we only had the patience - to see it that way.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER X. - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0012" id="linkimage-0012"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9098.jpg" alt="9098 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9098.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - |NE beautiful morning near the first of June, as Carson was strolling on - the upper veranda at home, waiting for the breakfast-bell, Keith Gordon - came by on his horse on his way to town. - </p> - <p> - “Heard the news?” he called out, as he reined in at the gate and leaned on - the neck of his mount. - </p> - <p> - “No; what's up?” Carson asked, and as he spoke he saw Helen Warren emerge - from the front door of her father's house and step down among the dew-wet - rose-bushes that bordered the brick walk. - </p> - <p> - “Horrible enough in all reason,” Keith replied. “There's been a - cold-blooded murder over near your farm. Abe Johnson, who led that mob, - you know, and his wife were killed by some negro with an axe. The whole - country is up in arms and crazy with excitement.” - </p> - <p> - “Wait, I'll come right down,” Carson said, and he disappeared into the - house. And when he came out a moment later he found Helen on the sidewalk - talking to Keith, and from her grave face he knew she had overheard what - had been said. - </p> - <p> - “Isn't it awful?” she said to Carson, as he came out at the gate. “Of - course, it is the continuation of the trouble here in town.” - </p> - <p> - “How do they know a negro did it?” Carson asked, obeying the natural - tendency of a lawyer to get at the facts. - </p> - <p> - “It seems,” answered Gordon, “that Mrs. Johnson lived barely long enough - after the neighbors got there to say that it was done by a mulatto, as - well as she could see in the darkness. In their fury, the people are - roughly handling every yellow negro in the neighborhood. They say the - darkies are all hiding out in the woods and mountains.” - </p> - <p> - Then the conversation paused, for old Uncle Lewis, who was at work with a - pair of garden-sheafs behind some rose-bushes close by, uttered a groan - and, wide-eyed and startled, came towards them. - </p> - <p> - “It's awful, awful, awful!” they heard him say. “Oh, my Gawd, have mercy!” - </p> - <p> - “Why, Uncle Lewis, what's the matter?” Helen asked, in sudden concern and - wonder over his manner and tone. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, missy, missy!” he groaned, as he shook his head despondently. “My boy - over dar 'mongst 'em right now. Oh, my Lawd! I know what dem white folks - gwine ter say fust thing, kase Pete didn't had no mo' sense 'an ter—” - </p> - <p> - “Stop, Lewis!” Carson said, sharply. “Don't be the first to implicate your - own son in a matter as serious as this is.” - </p> - <p> - “I ain't, marster!” the old man groaned, “but I know dem white folks done - it 'fo' dis.” - </p> - <p> - “I'm afraid you are right, Lewis,” Keith said, sympathetically. “He may be - absolutely innocent, but, since his trouble with that mob, Pete has really - talked too much. Well, I must be going.” - </p> - <p> - As Keith was riding away, old Lewis, muttering softly to himself and - groaning, turned towards the house. - </p> - <p> - “Where are you going?” Helen called out, as she still lingered beside - Carson. - </p> - <p> - “I'm gwine try to keep Linda fum hearin' it right now,” he said. “Ef Pete - git in it, missy, it gwine ter kill yo' old mammy.” - </p> - <p> - “I'm afraid it will,” Helen said. “Do what you can, Uncle Lewis. I'll be - down to see her in a moment.” As the old man tottered away, Helen looked - up and caught Carson's troubled glance. - </p> - <p> - “I wish I were a man,” she said. - </p> - <p> - “Why?” he inquired. - </p> - <p> - “Because I'd take a strong stand here in the South for law and order at - any cost. We have a good example in this very thing of what our condition - means. Pete may be innocent, and no doubt is, for I don't believe he would - do a thing like that no matter what the provocation, and yet he hasn't any - sort of chance to prove it.” - </p> - <p> - “You are right,” Carson said. “At such a time they would lynch him, if for - nothing else than that he had dared to threaten the murdered man.” - </p> - <p> - “Poor, poor old mammy!” sighed Helen. “Oh, it is awful to think of what - she will suffer if—if—Carson, do you really think Pete is in - actual danger?” Dwight hesitated for a moment, and then he met her stare - frankly. - </p> - <p> - “We may as well face the truth and be done with it,” he said. “No negro - will be safe over there now, and Pete, I am sorry to say, least of all.” - </p> - <p> - “If he is guilty he may run away,” she said, shortsightedly. - </p> - <p> - “If he's guilty we don't <i>want</i> him to get away,” Carson said, - firmly. “But I really don't think he had anything to do with it.” - </p> - <p> - Helen sighed. They had stepped back to the open gate, and there they - paused side by side. “How discouraging life is!” she said. “Carson, in - planning to get Pete over there, you and I were acting on our purest, - noblest impulses, and yet the outcome of our efforts may be the gravest - disaster.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, it seems that way,” he responded, gloomily; “but we must try to look - on the bright side and hope for the best.” - </p> - <p> - On parting with Helen, Carson went into the big, old-fashioned - dining-room, and after hurriedly drinking a cup of coffee he went down to - his office. Along the main thoroughfare, on the street comers, and in - front of the stores he found little groups of men with grave faces, all - discussing the tragedy. More than once in passing he heard Pete's name - mentioned, and for fear of being questioned as to what he thought about it - he hurried on. Garner was an early riser, and he found him at his desk - writing letters. - </p> - <p> - “Well, from all accounts,” Garner said, “your man Friday seems to be in a - ticklish place over there, innocent or not—that is, if he hasn't had - the sense to skip out.” - </p> - <p> - “Somehow, I don't think Pete is guilty,” Carson said, as he sank into his - big chair. “He's not that stamp of negro.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I haven't made up my mind on that score,” the other remarked. “Up - to the time he left here he seemed really harmless enough, but we don't - know what may have taken place since then between him and Johnson. Funny - we didn't think of the danger of sticking match to tinder like that. I - admit I was in favor of sending him. Miss Helen was so pleased over it, - too. I met her the other day at the post-office and she was telling me, - with absolute delight, that Pete was doing well over there, working like - an old-time cornfield darky, and behaving himself. Now, I suppose, she - will be terribly upset.” - </p> - <p> - Carson sighed. “We blame the mountain people, in times of excitement, for - acting rashly, and yet right here in this quiet town half the citizens - have already made up their minds that Pete committed the crime. Think of - it, Garner!” - </p> - <p> - “Well, you see, it's pretty hard to imagine who <i>else</i> did it,” - Garner declared. - </p> - <p> - “I don't agree with you,” disputed Carson, warmly; “when there are half a - dozen negroes who were whipped just as Pete was and who have horrible - characters. There's Sam Dudlow, the worst negro I ever saw, an ex-convict, - and as full of devilment as an egg is of meat. I saw his scowling face the - next day after he was whipped, and I never want to see it again. I'd hate - to meet him in the dark, unarmed. He wasn't making open threats, as Pete - was, but I'll bet he would have handled Johnson or Willis roughly if he - had met either of them alone and got the advantage.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, we are not trying the case,” Garner said, dryly; “if we are, I - don't know where the fees are to come from. Getting money out of an - imaginary case is too much like a lawyer's first year under the shadow of - his shingle.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XI. - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0013" id="linkimage-0013"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9103.jpg" alt="9103 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9103.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - IMMEDIATELY on parting with Carson, Helen went down to Linda's cottage. - Lewis was leaning over the little, low fence talking to a negro, who - walked on as she drew near. - </p> - <p> - “Where is Mam' Linda?” she asked, guardedly. “In de house, missy,” Lewis - answered, pulling off his old slouch hat and wadding it tightly in his - fingers. “She 'ain't heard nothin' yit. Jim was des tellin' me er whole - string er talk folks was havin' down on de street; but I told 'im not to - let 'er hear it. Oh, missy, it gwine ter kill 'er. She cayn't stan' it. - Des no longer 'n las' night she was settin' in dat do' talkin' 'bout how - happy she was to hear Pete was doin' so well over on Marse Carson's place. - She said she never would forget young marster's kindness to er old - nigger'oman, en now”—the old man spread out his hands in apathetic - gesture before him—“now you see what it come to!” - </p> - <p> - “But nothing serious has really happened to Pete yet,” Helen had started - to say, when the old man stopped her. - </p> - <p> - “Hush, honey, she comin'!” - </p> - <p> - There was a sound of a footstep in the cottage. Linda appeared in the - doorway, and with a clouded face and disturbed manner invited her mistress - into the cottage, placing a chair for the young lady, and dusting the - bottom of it with her apron. - </p> - <p> - “How do you feel this morning, mammy?” Helen asked, as she sat down. - </p> - <p> - “I'm well emough in my <i>body</i>, honey”—the old woman's face was - averted—“but dat ain't all ter a pusson in dis life. Ef des my body - was all I had, I wouldn't be so bad off, but it's my <i>mind</i>, honey. - I'm worried 'bout dat boy ergin. I had bad dreams las' night, en thoo 'em - all he seemed ter be in some trouble. Den when I woke dis mawnin' en tried - ter think 'twas only des er dream, I ain't satisfied wid de way all of um - act. Lewis look quar out'n de eyes, en everybody dat pass erlong hatter - stop en lead Lewis off down de fence ter talk. I ain't no fool, honey! I - notice things when dey ain't natcherl. Den here you come 'fo' yo' - breakfust-time. I've watched you, chile, sence you was in de cradle en - know every bat er yo' sweet eyes. Oh, honey”—Linda suddenly sat down - and covered her face with her hands, pressing them firmly in—“honey,” - she muttered, “suppen's done gone wrong. I've knowed it all dis mawnin' en - I'm actually afeard ter ax youall ter tell me. I—can't think of but - one thing, I'm so muddled up, en dat is dat my boy done thowed up his work - en gone away off somers wid bad company; en yit, honey”—-she now - rocked herself back and forth as if in torture and finished with a steady - stare into Helen's face—“dat cayn't be it. Dat ain't bad ernough ter - mek Lewis act like he is, en—en—well, honey, you might es well - come out wid it. I've had trouble, en I kin have mo'.” - </p> - <p> - Helen sat pale and undecided, unable to formulate any adequate plan of - procedure. At this juncture Lewis leaned in the doorway, and, as his - wife's back was towards him, he could not see her face. - </p> - <p> - “I want ter step down-town er minute, Lindy,” he said. “I'll be right - back. I des want ter go ter de sto'. We're out er coffee, en—” - </p> - <p> - Linda suddenly turned her dark, agonized face upon him. “You are not goin' - till you tell me what is gone wrong wid my child,” she said. “What de - matter wid Pete, Lewis?” - </p> - <p> - The old man's surprised glance wavered between his Wife's face and - Helen's. “Why, Lindy, who say—” he feebly began. - </p> - <p> - But she stopped him with a gesture at once impatient and full of fear. - “Tell me!” she said, firmly—“tell me!” - </p> - <p> - Lewis shambled into the cottage and stood over her, a magnificent specimen - of the manhood of his race. Helen's eyes were blinded by tears she could - hot restrain. - </p> - <p> - “'Tain't tiothiri', Lindy, 'pon my word 'tain't nothin' but dis,” he said, - gently. “Dar's been trouble over near Marse Carson's farm, but not one - soul is done say Pete was in it—<i>not one soul</i>.” - </p> - <p> - “What sort o' trouble?” Linda pursued. - </p> - <p> - “Er man en his wife was killed over dar in baid last night.” - </p> - <p> - “What man en woman?” Linda asked, her mouth falling open in suspense, her - thick lip hanging. - </p> - <p> - “Abe Johnson en his wife.” - </p> - <p> - Linda leaned forward, her hands locked like things of iron between her - knees. “Who done it, Lewis?—who killed um?” she gasped. - </p> - <p> - “Nobody knows dat yit, Lindy. Mrs. Johnson lived er little while after de - neighbors come, en she said it was er—she said it was er yaller - nigger, en—en—” He went no further, being at the end of his - diplomacy, and simply stood before her helplessly twisting his hat in his - hands. The room was very still. Helen wondered if her own heart had - stopped beating, so tense and strained was her emotion. Linda sat bent - forward for a moment; they saw her raise her hands to her head, press them - there convulsively, and then she groaned. - </p> - <p> - “Miz Johnson say it was a yaller nigger!” she moaned. “Oh, my Gawd!” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, but what dat, 'oman?” Lewis demanded in assumed sharpness of tone. - “Dar's oodlin's en oodlin's er yaller niggers over dar.” - </p> - <p> - “Dey ain't none of 'em been whipped by de daid man, 'cepin' my boy.” Linda - was now staring straight at him. “None of 'em never made no threats but - Pete. Dey'll kill 'im—” She shuddered and her voice fell away into a - prolonged sob. “You hear me? Dey'll hang my po' baby boy—hang 'im—<i>hang</i> - 'im!” - </p> - <p> - Linda suddenly rose to her full height and stood glowering upon them, her - face dark and full of passion and grief combined. She raised her hands and - held them straight upward. - </p> - <p> - “I want ter curse Gawd!” she cried. “You hear me? I ain't done nothin' ter - deserve dis here thing I've been er patient slave of white folks, en my - mammy an' daddy was 'fo' me. I've acted right en done my duty ter dem what - owned me, en—en now I face dis. I hear my onliest child beggin' fer - um to spare 'im en listen ter 'im. I hear 'im beggin' ter see his old - mammy 'fo' dey kill 'im. I see 'em drag-gin' 'im off wid er rope roun'—” - With a shriek the woman fell face downward on the floor. As if under the - influence of a terrible nightmare, Helen bent over her. She was - insensible. Without a word, Lewis lifted her in his arms and bore her to a - bed in the corner. - </p> - <p> - “Dis gwine ter kill yo' old mammy, honey,” he gulped. “She ain't never - gwine ter git up fum under it—never in dis world.” - </p> - <p> - But Helen, with womanly presence of mind, had dampened her handkerchief in - some water and was gently stroking the dark face with it. After a moment - Linda drew a deep, lingering breath and opened her eyes. - </p> - <p> - “Lewis,” was her first thought, “go try en find out all you kin. I'm gwine - lie here en pray Gawd ter be merciful. I said I'd curse 'Im, but I won't. - He my mainstay. I <i>got</i> ter trust 'Im. Ef He fail me I'm lost. Oh, - honey, yo' old mammy never axed you many favors; stay here wid 'er en pray—pray - wid all yo' might ter let dis cup pass. Oh, Gawd, don't let 'em!—<i>don't</i> - let 'em! De po' boy didn't do it. He wouldn't harm a kitten. He talked too - much, case he was smartin' under his whippin', but dat was all!” - </p> - <p> - Motioning to Lewis to leave them alone, Helen sat down on the edge of the - bed and put her arm round Linda's shoulders, but the old woman rose and - went to the door and closed it, then she came back and stood by Helen in - the half-darkness that now filled the room. - </p> - <p> - “I want you ter git down here by my baid en pray fer me, honey,” she said. - “Seem ter me lak de Lawd always have listen ter white folks mo' den de - black, anyway, en I want you ter beg 'Im ter spare po' li'l' foolish Pete - des dis time—<i>des dis once</i>.” Kneeling by the bed, Helen - covered her wet face with her hands. Linda knelt beside her, and Helen - prayed aloud, her clear, sweet voice ringing through the still room. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XII. - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0014" id="linkimage-0014"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9109.jpg" alt="9109 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9109.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - N Carson Dwight's farm, as the place was not particularly well kept, the - negro hands lived in dismantled log-cabins scattered here and there about - the fields, or in the edge of the woods surrounding the place. In one of - these, at the overseer's suggestion, Pete had installed himself, his - household effects consisting only of a straw mattress thrown on the - puncheon floor and a few cooking utensils for use over the big fireplace - of the mud-and-log chimney. - </p> - <p> - Here he was sleeping on the night of the tragedy which had stirred the - country-side into a white heat of race hatred. He had spent the first half - of the night at a negro dance, two miles away, at a farm, and was much - elated by finding that he had attracted marked attention and feminine - favor, which was due to the fact that he was looked upon by the country - blacks as something out of the usual run—a town darky with a glib - tongue and many other accomplishments, and a negro, too, as Pete assured - them, who stood high in the favor of his master, whose name carried weight - wherever it was mentioned. - </p> - <p> - Shortly after dawn Pete was still sleeping soundly, as was his habit after - a night of pleasure, when his door was rudely shaken. - </p> - <p> - “Pete Warren! Pete Warren!” a voice called out sharply. “Wake up in dar; - wake up, I tell you!” - </p> - <p> - There was no response—no sound came from within the cabin except the - deep respiration of the sleeper. The door was shaken again, and then, as - it was not locked, and slightly ajar, the little old negro man on the - outside pushed the shutter open and entered, stalking across the floor to - where Pete lay. - </p> - <p> - “Wake up here, you fool!” he said, as he bent and shook Pete roughly. - “Wake up, ef you know what good fer you.” - </p> - <p> - Pete turned over; his snoring broke into little gasps. He opened his eyes, - stared inquiringly for an instant, and then his eyelids began to close - drowsily. - </p> - <p> - “Looky here!” He was roughly handled again by the black hand on his - shoulder. “You young fool, you dance all night till you cayn't keep yo' - eyes open in de day-time, but ef you don't git er move on you en light out - er dis cabin you'll dance yo' last jig wid nothin' under yo' feet but - wind. It'll be er game er frog in de middle en you be de frog.” - </p> - <p> - “What dat?—what dat you givin' me, Uncle Richmond?” Pete was now - awake and sitting bolt upright on the mattress. - </p> - <p> - “Huh, I come ter tell you, boy, dat you 'bout ter git in trouble, en, fer - all I know, de biggest you ever had in all yo' bo'n days.” - </p> - <p> - “Huh, you say I is, Uncle Richmond?” Pete exclaimed, incredulously. “What - wrong wid me?” - </p> - <p> - The old man stepped back till he could look through the cabin door over - the fields upon which the first streaks of daylight were falling in - grayish, misty splotches. - </p> - <p> - “Pete,” he said, “somebody done slip in Abe Johnson's house en brain him - en his wife wid er axe.” - </p> - <p> - “Huh, you don't say!” Pete stared in sleepy astonishment. “When dat - happen, Uncle Richmond?” - </p> - <p> - “Las' night, er towards mawnin',” the old man said. “Ham Black come en - toi' me. He say we better all hide out; it gwine ter be de biggestm - 'cite-ment ever heard of in dese mountains; but, Pete, <i>you</i> de main - one ter look out—you, you!” - </p> - <p> - “Me! Huh, what you say dat fer, Uncle Rich'?” - </p> - <p> - “'Ca'se dey gwine ter look fer you de fus one, Pete. You sho is been - talkin' too much out yo' mouf 'bout dat whippin' Johnson done give you en - Sam Dudlow, en de res' um in town dat night. Ham tol' me ter come warn you - ter hide out, en dat quick. Ham say he know in reason you didn't do it, - 'ca'se, he say, yo' bark is wuss'n yo' bite. Ham say he bet 'twas done by - some nigger dat didn't talk so much. Ham say he mighty nigh sho Sam Dudlow - done it, 'ca'se Sam met Abe Johnson in de big road yisterday en Johnson - cussed 'im en lashed at 'im wid er whip. Ham say dat nigger come on ter de - sto' lookin' lak er devil in men's clothes. But he didn't say nothin' even - den. Look lak he was des lyin' low bidin' his time.” - </p> - <p> - Pete got up and began to dress himself with the unimaginative disregard - for danger that is characteristic of his race. - </p> - <p> - “I bet, myse'f, Sam done it,” he said, reflectively. - </p> - <p> - “He's er bad yaller nigger, Uncle Richmond, en ever since Johnson en Dan - Willis larruped we-all, he's been sulkin' en growlin'. But es you say, - Uncle Rich', he didn't talk out open. He lay low.” - </p> - <p> - “Dat don't mek no diffunce, boy,” the old black man went on, earnestly; - “you git out'n here in er hurry en mek er break fer dem woods. Even den I - doubt ef dat gwine ter save yo' skin, 'ca'se Dan Willis got er pair er - blood-hounds dat kin smell nigger tracks thoo er ten-inch snow.” - </p> - <p> - “Huh, I say, Uncle Richmond, you don't know me,” Pete said. “You don't - know me, ef you 'low I'm gwine ter run fum dese white men. I 'ain't been - nigh dat Abe Johnson's house—not even cross his line er fence. I - promised Marse Carson Dwight not ter go nigh 'im, en—en I promised - 'im ter let up on my gab out here, en I done dat, too. No, suh, Unc' - Rich', you git somebody else ter run yo' foot-race. I'm gwine ter cook my - breakfust lak I always do en den go out ter my sprouts dat hatter be - grubbed. I got my task ter do, rain er shine.” - </p> - <p> - “Look here, boy,” the old man's blue-black eyes gleamed as he stared at - Pete. “I know yo' mammy en daddy, en I like um. Dey good black folks er de - ol' stripe, en always was friendly ter me, en I don't like ter see you in - dis mess. I tell you, I'm er old man. I know how white men act in er case - like dis—dey don't have one bit er pity er reason. Dey will kill you - sho. Dey'd er been here 'fo' dis, but dey gittin' together. Listen! Hear - dem hawns en yellin'?—dat at Wilson's sto'. Dey will be here soon. I - don't want ter stan' here en argue wid you. I 'ain't had nothin' ter do - wid it, but dey would saddle some of it onto me ef dey found out I come - here ter warn you. Hurry up, boy.” - </p> - <p> - “I ain't gwine ter do it, Uncle Rich',” Pete declared, firmly, and with a - grave face. “You are er old man, but you ain't givin' me good advice. Ef I - run, dey would say I was guilty sho', en den, es you say, de dogs could - track me down, anyway.” - </p> - <p> - The boy's logic seemed unassailable. The piercing, beadlike eyes of the - old man flickered. “Well,” he said, “I done all I could. I'm gwine move - on. Even now, dey may know I come here at dis early time, en mix me up in - it. Good-bye. I hope fer Mammy Lindy's sake dat dey will let you off—I - do sho.” - </p> - <p> - Left alone, Pete went out to the edge of the wood behind his cabin and - gathered up some sticks, leaves, and pieces of bark that had fallen from - the decaying boughs of the trees, and brought them into the cabin and - deposited them on the broad stone hearth. Then he uncovered the coals he - had the night before buried in the ashes, and made a fire for the - preparation of his simple breakfast. He had a sharp sense of animal - hunger, which was due to his long walk to and from the dance and the fact - that he was bodily sound and vigorous. He took as much fresh-ground - corn-meal as his hands would hold from a tow bag in a corner of the room - and put it into a tin pan. To this he added a cup of water and a bit of - salt, stirring it with his hand till it was well mixed. He then deftly - formed it into a pone, and, wrapping it in a clean husk of corn, he - deposited it in the hot ashes, covering it well with live coals. Then he - made his coffee, being careful that the water in the pot did not rise as - high as the point near the spout where the vessel leaked. Next he - unwrapped a strip of “streak o' lean streak o' fat” bacon, and with his - pocket-knife sliced some of it into a frying-pan already hot. These things - accomplished, he had only to wait a few minutes for the heat to do its - work, and he stepped back and stood in the doorway. - </p> - <p> - Far across the meadow, now under the slanting rays of the sun, he saw old - Uncle Richmond, bowlegged and short, waddling along through the dewy grass - and weeds, his head bowed, his long arms swinging at his sides. - </p> -<p> -“Huh!” was Pete's slow comment, “so somebody done already settled Abe -Johnson's hash. I know in reason it was Sam Dudlow, en I reckon ef dat -rampacious gang er white men lays hands on 'im—ef dey lays hands on - 'im—” He was recalling certain details of the recent riots in Atlanta, -and an unconscious shudder passed over him. “Well,” he continued to -reflect, “Abe Johnson was a hard man on black folks, but his wife was -er downright good 'oman. Ever'body say she was, en she <i>was</i>. It was a -gre't pity ter kill her dat way, but I reckon Sam was afeard she'd -tell it on 'im en had ter kill um bofe. Yes, Miz Johnson was er good -'oman—good ter niggers. She fed lots of 'em behind dat man's back, en -wished 'em well; en now, po', po' 'oman!” - </p> - <p> - Pete went back to the fireplace and with the blade of his knife turned the - curling white and brown strips of bacon, and with the toe of his coarse, - worn shoe pushed fresher coals against his coffee-pot. Then for a moment - he stood gravely looking at the fire. - </p> - <p> - “Well,” he mused, with a shrugging of his shoulders. “I wish des <i>one - thing</i>, I wish Marse Carson was here. He wouldn't let 'em tech me. He's - de best en smartest lawyer in Georgia, en he would tell 'em what er lot er - fools dey was ter say I done it, when I was right dar'n my baid. My! dat - bacon smell good! I wish I had er few fresh hen aigs ter drap in dat brown - grease. Huh! it make my mouf water.” - </p> - <p> - There was no table in the room, and so when he had taken up his breakfast - he sat down on the floor and ate it with supreme relish. Through all the - meal, however, in spite of the arguments he was mentally producing, there - were far under the crust of his being certain elemental promptings towards - fear and self-preservation. - </p> - <p> - “Well, dar's one thing,” he mused. “Marse Hillyer done laid me out my task - ter do in de old fiel' en I ain't ergoin' to shirk it, 'ca'se Marse Carson - gwine ter ax 'im, when he go in town, how I'm gittin' on, en I wants er - good repo't. No, I ain't goin' ter shirk it, ef all de dogs en white men - in de county come yelpin' on de hunt for Sam Dudlow.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XIII. - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0015" id="linkimage-0015"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9116.jpg" alt="9116 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9116.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - IS breakfast over, Pete shouldered his grubbing-hoe, an implement shaped - like an adze, and made his way through the dewy undergrowth of the wood to - an open field an eighth of a mile from his cabin. There he set to work on - what was considered by farmers the hardest labor connected with the - cultivation of the soil. It consisted of partly digging and partly pulling - out by the roots the stout young bushes which infested the neglected old - fields. - </p> - <p> - Pete was hard at work in the corner of a ten-rail worm-fence, when, - hearing a sound in the wood, which sloped down from a rocky hill quite - near him, he saw a farmer, who lived in the neighborhood, pause suddenly, - even in a startled manner, and stare steadily at him. - </p> - <p> - “Oh!” Pete heard him exclaim; “why, you are Carson Dwight's new man, ain't - you, from Darley?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, suh, dat me,” the negro replied. “Mr. Hillyer, de overseer fer my - boss, set me on dis yer job. I want ter clean it up ter de branch by - Sadday.” - </p> - <p> - “Huh!” The man approached nearer, eying the negro closely from head to - foot, his glance resting longer on Pete's hip-pocket than anywhere else. - “Huh! I heard down at the store just now that you'd left—throwed up - your job, I mean—an' gone clean off.” - </p> - <p> - “No, I hain't throwed up no job,” the negro said, his slow intelligence - groping for the possible cause of such a report. “I been right here since - my boss sent me over, en I'm gwine stay lessen he sen' fer me ter tek care - o' his hosses in town. I reckon you heard er Marse Carson Dwight's fine - drivin' stock.” The farmer pulled his long brown beard, his eyes still on - Pete's face; it was as if he had not caught the boy's last remark. - </p> - <p> - “They said down at the store that you left last night, after—that - you went off last night. A man said he seed you at the nigger blow-out on - Hilton's farm about one o'clock, and that after it was over you turned - towards—I don't know—I'm just tellin' you what they said down - at the store.” - </p> - <p> - “I <i>was</i> at dat shindig,” Pete said. “I walked fum here dar en back - ergin.” - </p> - <p> - “Huh, well”—the farmer's face took on a shrewd expression—“I - must move on. I'm lookin' fer a brown cow with a white tail, an' blaze on - 'er face.” As the man disappeared in the wood, Pete was conscious of a - sense of vague uneasiness which somehow seemed to be a sort of augmented - recurrence of the feeling left by the warning of his early visitor. - </p> -<p> -“Dat white man certainly act curi's,” Pete mused, as he leaned on -the handle of his hoe and stared at the spot where the farmer had -disappeared in the woods. “I'll bet my hat he been thinkin', lak Uncle -Rich' said dey would, dat I had er hand in dat bloody business. Po' -Miz Johnson—I reckon dey layin' 'er out now. She certney was good. I -remember how she tol' me at de spring de day I come here ter try en be a -good, steady boy en not mek dem white men pounce on me ergin. Po' 'oman! -Seem lak er gre't pity. I reckon Abe Johnson got what was comin' ter - 'im, but it look lak even Sam Dudlow wouldn't er struck dat good'oman -down. Maybe he thought he had ter—maybe she cornered 'im; but I dunno; -he's er tough nigger—de toughest I ever run ercross, en I've seed er -lots um.” - </p> - <p> - Pete leaned on the fence, wiped his perspiring brow with his bare hand, - snapped his fingers like a whip to rid them of the drops of sweat, and - allowed his thoughts to merge into the darker view of the situation. He - was really not much afraid. Under grave danger, a negro has not so great a - concern over death as a white man, because he is not endowed with - sufficient intelligence to grasp its full import, and yet to-day Pete was - feeling unusual qualms of unrest. - </p> -<p> -“Dar's one thing sho,” he finally concluded; “dat white man looked -powerful funny when he seed me, en he said he heard I'd run off. I'll -bet my hat he's makin' a bee-line fer dat sto' ter tell 'em whar I is -right now. I wish one thing. I wish Marse Carson was here; he'd sen' 'em - 'bout deir business mighty quick.” - </p> - <p> - With a shrug of indecision, the boy set to work. His back happened to be - turned towards the store, barely visible over the swelling ground in the - distance, and so he failed to note the rapid approach across the meadow of - two men till they were close upon him. One was Jeff Braider, the sheriff - of the county, a stalwart man of forty, in high top-boots, a leather belt - holding a-long revolver, a broad-brimmed hat, and coarse gray suit; his - companion was a hastily deputized citizen armed with a double-barrelled - shot-gun. - </p> - <p> - “Put down that hoe, Pete!” the sheriff commanded, sharply, as the negro - turned with it in his hand. “Put it down, I say! Drop it!” - </p> - <p> - “What I gwine put it down for?” the negro asked, in characteristic tone. - “Huh! I got ter do my work.” - </p> - <p> - “Drop it, and don't begin to give me your jaw,” the sheriff said. “You've - got to come on with us. You are under arrest.” - </p> - <p> - “What you 'rest me fer?” Pete asked, still doggedly. - </p> - <p> - “You are accused of killing the Johnsons last night, and if you didn't do - it, I'm here to say you are in the tightest hole an innocent man ever got - in. King and I are going to do our level best to put you in safety in the - Gilmore jail so you can be tried fairly by law, but we've got to get a - move on us. The whole section is up in arms, and we'll have hard work - dodging 'em. Come on. I won't rope you, but if you start to run we'll - shoot you down like a rabbit, so don't try that on.” - </p> - <p> - “My Gawd, Mr. Braider, I didn't kill dem folks!” Pete said, pleadingly. “I - don't know a thing about it.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, whether you did or not, they say you threatened to do it, and your - life won't be worth a hill of beans if you stay here. The only thing to do - is to get you to the Gilmore jail. We may make it through the mountains if - we are careful, but we've got to git horses. We can borrow some from Jabe - Parsons down the road, if he hasn't gone crazy like all the rest. Come - on.” - </p> - <p> - “I tell you, Mr. Braider, I don't know er thing 'bout dis,” Pete said; - “but it looks ter me lak mebby Sam Dudlow—” - </p> - <p> - “Don't make any statement to me,” the officer said, humanely enough in his - rough way. “You are accused of a dirty job, Pete, and it will take a dang - good lawyer to save you from the halter, even if we save you from this - mob; but talkin' to me won't do no good. Me'n King here couldn't protect - you from them men if they once saw you. I tell you, young man, all hell - has broke loose. For twenty miles around no black skin will be safe, much - less yours. Innocent or guilty, you've certainly shot off your mouth. Come - on.” - </p> - <p> - Without further protest, Pete dropped his hoe and went with them. - Doggedly, and with an overpowering and surly sense of injury, he slouched - along between the two men. - </p> - <p> - A quarter of a mile down a narrow, private road, which was traversed - without meeting any one, they came to Parsons' farm-house, a one-story - frame building with a porch in front, and a roof that sloped back to a - crude lean-to shed in the rear. A wagon stood under the spreading branches - of a big beech, and near by a bent-tongued harrow, weighted down by a heap - of stones, a chicken-coop, an old beehive, and a ramshackle buggy. No one - was in sight. No living thing stirred about the place, save the turkeys - and ducks and a solitary peacock strutting about in the front yard, where - rows of half-buried stones from the mountain-sides formed the jagged - borders of a gravel walk from the fence to the steps. - </p> - <p> - The sheriff drew the gate open and, according to rural etiquette, hallooed - lustily. After a pause the sound of some one moving in the house reached - their ears. A window-curtain was drawn aside, and later a woman stood in - the doorway and advanced wonderingly to the edge of the porch. She was - portly, red of complexion, about middle-aged, and dressed in checked - gingham, the predominating color of which was blue. - </p> - <p> - “Well, I'll be switched!” she ejaculated; “what do you-uns want?” - </p> - <p> - “Want to see Jabe, Mrs. Parsons; is he about?” - </p> - <p> - “He's over in his hay-field, or was a minute ago. What you want with him?” - </p> - <p> - “We've got to borrow some hosses,” the sheriff answered. “We want three—one - fer each. We're goin' to try to dodge them blood-thirsty mobs, Mrs. - Parsons, an' put this feller in jail, whar he'll be safe.” - </p> - <p> - “<i>That</i> boy?” The woman came down the steps, rolling her sleeves up. - “Why, that boy didn't kill them folks. I know that boy, he's the son of - old Mammy Linda and Uncle Lewis Warren. Now, look here, Jeff Braider, - don't you and Bill King go and make eternal fools o' yourselves. That boy - didn't no more do that nasty work than I did. It ain't <i>in</i> 'im. He - hain't that look. I know niggers as well as you or anybody else.” - </p> - <p> - “No, I <i>didn't</i> do it, Mrs. Parsons,” the prisoner affirmed. “I - didn't! I didn't!” - </p> - <p> - “I know you didn't,” said the woman. “Wasn't I standin' here in the door - this mornin' and saw him git up an' go out to git his wood and cook his - breakfast? Then I seed 'im shoulder his grubbin'-hoe and go to the field - to work. You officers may think you know it all, but no nigger ain't - agoin' to stay around like that after killin' a man an' woman in cold - blood. The nigger that did that job was some scamp that's fur from the - spot by this time, and not a boy fetched up among good white folks like - this one was, with the best old mammy and daddy that ever had kinky - heads.” - </p> - <p> - “But witnesses say he threatened Abe Johnson a month ago,” argued Braider. - “I have to do my duty, Mrs. Parsons. There never would be any justice if - we overlooked a thing as pointed as that is.” - </p> - <p> - “Threatened 'im?” the woman cried; “well, what does that prove? A nigger - will talk back an' act surly on his death-bed if he's mad. That's all the - way they have of defendin' theirselves. If Pete hadn't talked some after - the lashin' he got from them men, thar'd 'a' been some'n' wrong with him. - Now, you let 'im loose. As shore as you start off with that boy, he'll be - lynched. The fact that you've got 'im in tow will be all them crazy men - want. You couldn't get two miles in any direction from here without bein' - stopped; they are as thick as fleas on all sides, an' every road is under - watch.” - </p> - <p> - “I'm sorry I can't take yore advice, Mrs. Parsons,” Braider said, almost - out of patience. “I've got my duty to perform, an' I know what it is a - sight better than you do.” - </p> - <p> - “If you start off with that boy his blood will be on yore head,” the woman - said, firmly. “Left alone, and advised to hide opt till this excitement is - over, he might stand a chance to save his neck; but with you—why, - you mought as well stand still and yell to that crazy gang to come on.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, we've got to git horses to go on with, and yours are the nearest.” - </p> - <p> - “Huh! you won't ride no harmless nigger to the scaffold on <i>my</i> - stock,” the woman said, sharply. “I know whar my duty lies. A woman with a - thimbleful of brains don't have to listen to a long string of testimony to - know a murderer when she sees one; that boy's as harmless as a baby and - you are trying your level best to have him mobbed.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, right is on my side, and I can take the horses if I see fit in the - furtherance of law an' order,” said Braider. “If Jabe was here he'd tell - me to go ahead, an' so I'll have to do it anyway. Bill, you stay here on - guard an' I'll bridle the horses an' lead 'em out.” - </p> - <p> - A queer look, half of anger, half of definite purpose, settled on the - strong, rugged face of the woman, as she saw the sheriff stalk off to the - barn-yard gate, enter it, and let it close after him. - </p> - <p> - “Bill King,” she said, drawing nearer the man left in charge of the - bewildered prisoner, who now for the first time under the words of his - defender had sensed his real danger—“Bill King, you hain't agoin' to - lead that poor boy right to his death this way—you don't look like - that sort of a man.” She suddenly swept her furtive eyes over the - barn-yard, evidently noting that the sheriff was now in the stable. “No, - you hain't—for I hain't agoin' to <i>let</i> you!” And suddenly, - without warning even to the slightest change of facial expression, she - grasped the end of the shot-gun the man held, and whirled him round Like a - top. - </p> - <p> - “Run, boy!” she cried. “Run for the woods, and God be with you!” For an - instant Pete stood as if rooted to the spot, and then, as swift of foot as - a young Indian, he turned and darted through the gate and round the - farm-house, leaving the woman and King struggling for the possession of - the gun. It fell to the ground, but she grasped King around the waist and - clung to him with the tenacity of a bull-dog. - </p> - <p> - “Good God, Mrs. Parsons,” he panted, writhing in her grasp, “let me - loose!” - </p> - <p> - There was a smothered oath from the barn-yard, and, revolver in hand, the - sheriff ran out. - </p> - <p> - “What the hell!—which way did he go?” he gasped. - </p> - <p> - But King, still in the tight embrace of his assailant, seemed too badly - upset to reply. And it was not till Braider had torn her locked hands - loose that King could stammer out, “Round the house—into the woods!” - </p> - <p> - “An' we couldn't catch 'im to save us from—” Braider said. “Madam, - I'll handle you for this! I'll push this case against you to the full - limit of the law!” - </p> - <p> - “You'll do nothin' of the kind,” the woman said, “unless you want to make - yourself the laughin'-stock of the whole community. In doin' what I done I - acted fer all the good women of this country; an' when you run ag'in we'll - beat you at the polls. Law an' order's one thing, but officers helpin' - mobs do their dirty work is another. If the boy deserves a trial he - deserves it, but he'd not 'a' stood one chance in ten million in your - charge, <i>an' you know it</i>.” - </p> - <p> - At this juncture a man emerged from the close-growing bushes across the - road, a look of astonishment on his face. It was Jabe Parsons. “What's - wrong here?” he cried, excitedly. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, nothin' much,” Braider answered, with a white sneer of fury. “We - stopped here with Pete Warren to borrow your horses to git 'im over the - mountain to the Gilmore jail, an' your good woman grabbed Bill's gun while - I was in the stable an' deliberately turned the nigger loose.” - </p> - <p> - “Great God! what's the matter with you?” Parsons thundered at his wife, - who, red-faced and defiant, stood rubbing a small bruised spot on her - wrist. - </p> - <p> - “Nothin's the matter with me,” she retorted, “except I've got more sense - than you men have. I know that boy didn't kill them folks, an' I didn't - intend to see you-all lynch 'im.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I know he did!” Parsons yelled. “But he'll be caught before night, - anyway. He can't hide in them woods from hounds like they've got down the - road.” - </p> - <p> - “Your wife 'lowed he'd be safer in the woods than in the Gilmore jail,” - Braider said, with another sneer. - </p> - <p> - “Well, he <i>would</i>. As for that,” Parsons retorted, “if you think that - army headed by the dead woman's daddy an' brothers would halt at a puny - bird-cage like that jail, you don't know mountain men. They'd smash the - damn thing like an egg-shell. I reckon a sheriff has to <i>pretend</i> to - act fer the law, whether he earns his salary or not. Well, I'll go down - the road an' tell 'em whar to look. Thar'll be a picnic som 'er's nigh - here in a powerful short while. We've got men enough to surround that - whole mountain.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XIV. - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0016" id="linkimage-0016"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9127.jpg" alt="9127 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9127.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - HE following night was a cloudless, moonlit one, and restlessly and - heart-sore Helen walked the upper floor of the veranda, her eyes - constantly bent on the street leading past Dwight's on to the centre of - the town. The greater part of the day she had spent with Linda, trying to - pacify her and rouse the hope that Pete would not be implicated in the - trouble in the mountains. Helen had gone down to Carson's office about - noon, feeling vaguely that he could advise her better than any one else in - the grave situation. She had found Garner seated at his desk, bent over a - law-book, a studious expression on his face. Seeing her in the doorway, he - sprang up gallantly and proffered a rickety chair, from which he had - hastily dumped a pile of old newspapers. - </p> - <p> - “Is Carson in?” she asked, sitting down. - </p> - <p> - “Oh no, he's gone over to the farm,” Garner said. “I couldn't hold him - here after he heard of the trouble. You see, Miss Helen, he thinks, from a - few things picked up, that Pete is likely to be suspected and be roughly - handled, and, you know, as he was partly the cause of the boy's going - there, he naturally would feel—” - </p> - <p> - “I was the <i>real</i> cause of it,” the girl broke in, with a sigh and a - troubled face. “We both thought it was for the best, and if it results in - Pete's death I shall never forgive myself.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I wouldn't look at it that way,” Garner said. “You were both acting - for what you thought was right. As I say, I tried my best to keep Carson - from going over there to-day, but he would go. We almost had an open - rupture over it. You see, Miss Helen, I have set my head on seeing him in - the legislature, and he is eternally doing things that kill votes. There - is not a thing in the category of political offences as fatal as this very - thing. He's already taken Pete's part and abused the men who whipped him, - and now that the boy is suspected of retaliating and killing the Johnsons, - why, the people will—well, I wouldn't be one bit surprised to see - them jump on Carson himself. Men infuriated like that haven't any more - sense than mad dogs, and they won't stand for a white man opposing them. - But, of course, you know why Carson is acting so recklessly.” - </p> - <p> - “I do? What do you mean, Mr. Garner?” - </p> - <p> - The lawyer smiled, wiped his facile mouth with his small white hand, and - said, teasingly: “Why, you are at the bottom of it. Carson wants to save - the boy simply because you are indirectly interested in him. That's the - whole thing in a nutshell. He's been as mad as a wet hen ever since they - whipped Pete, because he was the son of your old mammy, and now that the - boy's in actual peril Carson has gone clean daft. Well, it's reported - among the gossips about town that you turned him down, Miss Helen—like - you did some of the balance of us presumptuous chaps that didn't know - enough to keep our hearts where they belonged—but you sat on the - best man in the bunch when you did it. It's me that's doing this talking.” - </p> - <p> - Helen sat silent and pale for a moment, unable to formulate a reply to his - outspoken remark. Presently she said, evasively: “Then you think both of - them are in actual danger?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, Pete hasn't one chance in a million,” Garner said, gently. “There - is no use trying to hide that fact; and if Carson should happen to run - across Dan Willis—well, one or the other would have to drop. Carson - is in a dangerous mood. He believes as firmly in Pete's innocence as he - does in his own, and if Dan Willis dared to threaten him, as he's likely - to do when they meet, why, Carson would defend himself.” - </p> - <p> - Helen drew her veil down over her eyes and Garner could see that she was - quivering from head to foot. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, it's awful—awful!” he heard her say, softly. Then she rose and - moved to the open door, where she stood as if undecided what step to take. - “Is there no way to get any—any news?” she asked, tremulously. - </p> - <p> - “None now,” he told her. “In times of excitement over in the mountains, - few people come into town; they all want to stay at home and see it - through.” - </p> - <p> - She stepped out on the sidewalk, and he followed her, gallantly holding - his hat in his hand. Scarcely a soul was in sight. The town seemed - deserted. - </p> - <p> - “Madam, rumor,” Garner said, with a smile, “reports that your friend Mr. - Sanders, from Augusta, is coming up for a visit.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I had a letter from him this morning,” Helen said, in a dignified - tone. “My father must have spoken of it. It will be Mr. Sanders' first - visit to Darley, and he will find us terribly upset. If I knew how to - reach him I'd ask him to wait a few days till this uncertainty is over, - but he is on his way here—is, in fact, stopping somewhere in Atlanta—and - intends to come on up to-morrow or the next day. Does—does Carson—has - he heard of Mr. Sanders' coming?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh yes, it was sprung on him this morning for a deadly purpose,” Garner - said, with a significant smile. “The whole gang—Keith, Wade, and Bob - Smith—were in here trying to keep him from going to the farm. They - had tried everything they could think of to stop him, and as a last resort - set in to teasing. Keith told him Sanders would sit in the parlor and say - sweet things to you while Carson was trying to liberate the ex-slaves of - your family at the risk of bone and sinew. Keith said Carson was showing - the finest proof of fidelity that was ever given—fidelity to <i>the - man in the parlor</i>.” - </p> - <p> - “Keith ought to have been ashamed of himself,” Helen said, with her first - show of vexation. “And what did Carson say?” - </p> - <p> - “The poor chap took it all in a good-humor,” Garner said. “In fact, he was - so much wrought up over Pete's predicament that he hardly heard what they - were saying.” - </p> - <p> - “You really think Carson is in danger, too?” Helen continued, after a - moment's silence. - </p> - <p> - “If he meets Dan Willis, yes,” said Garner. “If he opposes the mob, yes - again. Dan Willis has already succeeded in creating a lot of unpopularity - for him in that quarter, and the mere sight of Carson at such a time would - be like a torch to a dry hay-stack.” - </p> - <p> - So Helen had gone home and spent the afternoon and evening in real torture - of suspense, and now, as she walked the veranda floor alone with a - realization of the grim possibilities of the case drawn sharply before her - mental vision, she was all but praying aloud for Carson's safe return, and - anxiously keeping her gaze on the moonlit street below. Suddenly her - attention was drawn to the walk in front of the Dwight house. Some one was - walking back and forth in a nervous manner, the intermittent flare of a - cigar flashing out above the shrubbery like the glow of a lightning-bug. - Could it be—had Carson returned and entered by the less frequently - used gate in the rear? For several minutes she watched the figure as it - strode back and forth with never-ceasing tread, and then, fairly consumed - with the desire to set her doubts at rest, she went down into the garden - at the side of the house, softly approached the open gate between the two - homesteads, and called out: “Carson, is that you?” - </p> - <p> - The figure paused and turned, the fire of the cigar described a red - half-circle against the dark background, but no one spoke. Then, as she - waited at the gate, her heart in her mouth, the smoker came towards her. - It was old Henry Dwight. He wore no hat nor coat, the night being warm, - and one of his fat thumbs was under his broad suspender. - </p> - <p> - “No, it's not him, Miss Helen,” he said, rather gruffly. “He hasn't got - back yet. I've had my hands full since supper. My wife is in a bad way. - She has been worrying awfully since twelve o'clock, when Carson didn't - turn up to dinner as usual. She's guessed what he went to the farm for, - and she's as badly upset as old Linda is over that trifling Pete. I - thought I had enough trouble before the war over <i>my</i> niggers, but - here, forty years later, <i>yours</i> are upsetting things even worse. I - only wish the men that fought to free the black scamps had some part of - the burden to bear.” - </p> - <p> - “It really is awful,” Helen responded; “and so Mrs. Dwight is upset by - it?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh yes, we had the doctor to come, and he gave some slight dose or other, - but he said the main thing was to get Carson back and let her know for - sure that he was safe and sound. I sent a man out there lickety-split on - the fastest horse I have, and he ought to have got back two hours ago. - That's what I'm out here for. I know she's not going to let me rest till - her mind is at ease.” - </p> - <p> - “Do you really think any actual harm could have come to Carson?” Helen - inquired, anxiously. - </p> - <p> - “It could come to anybody who has the knack my boy has for eternally - rubbing folks the wrong way,” the old man retorted from the depths of his - irritation; “but, Lord, my young lady, <i>you</i> are at the bottom of - it!” - </p> - <p> - “I? Oh, Mr. Dwight, don't say that!” Helen pleaded. - </p> - <p> - “Well, I'm only telling you the <i>truth</i>,” said Dwight, throwing his - cigar away and putting, both thumbs under his suspenders. “You know that - as well as I do. He sees how you are bothered about your old mammy, and he - has simply taken up your cause. It's just what I'd 'a' done at his age. I - reckon I'd 'a' fought till I dropped in my tracks for a girl I—but - from all accounts you and Carson couldn't agree, or rather <i>you</i> - couldn't. He seems to be agreeing now and staking his life and political - chances on it. Well, I don't blame him. It never run in the Dwight blood - to love more than once, an' then it was always for the pick of the flock. - Well, you are the pick in this town, an' I wouldn't feel like he was my - boy if he stepped down and out as easy as some do these days. I met him on - his way to the farm and tried to shame him out of the trip. I joined the - others in teasing him about that Augusta fellow, who can do his courting - by long-distance methods in an easy seat at his writing-desk, while - up-country chaps are doing the rough work for nothing, but it didn't feaze - 'im. He tossed his stubborn head, got pretty red in the face, and said he - was trying to help old Linda and Lewis out, and that he know well enough - you didn't care a cent for him.” - </p> - <p> - Helen had grown hot and cold by turns, and she now found herself unable to - make any adequate response to such personal allusions. - </p> - <p> - “Huh, I see I got you teased, too!” Dwight said, with a short, staccato - laugh. “Oh, well, you mustn't mind me. I'll go in and see if my wife is - asleep, and if she is I'll go to bed myself.” - </p> - <p> - Helen, deeply depressed, and beset with many conflicting emotions, turned - back to the veranda, and, instead of going up to her room, she reclined in - a hammock stretched between two of the huge, fluted columns. She had been - there perhaps half an hour when her heart almost stopped pulsating as she - caught, the dull beat of horses' hoofs up the street. Rising, she saw a - horseman rein in at the gate at Dwight's. It was Carson; she knew that by - the way he dismounted and threw the rein over the gate-post. - </p> - <p> - “Carson!” she called out. “Oh, Carson, I want to see you!” - </p> - <p> - He heard, and came along the sidewalk to meet her at the gate where she - now stood. What had come over him? There was an utter droop of despondent - weariness upon him, and then as he drew near she saw that his face was - pale and haggard. For a moment he stood, his hand on the gate she was - holding open, and only stared. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, what has happened?” she cried. “I've been waiting for you. We haven't - heard a word.” - </p> - <p> - In a tired, husky voice, for he had made many a speech through the day, he - told her of Pete's escape. “He's still hiding somewhere in the mountains,” - he said. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, then he may get away after all!” she cried. - </p> - <p> - Dwight said nothing, seeming to avoid her great, staring, anxious eyes. - She laid her hand almost unconsciously on his arm. - </p> - <p> - “Don't you think he has a chance, Carson?” she repeated—“a bare - chance?” - </p> - <p> - “The whole mountain is surrounded, and they are beating the woods, - covering every inch of the ground,” he said. “It is now only a question of - time. They will wait till daybreak, and then continue till they have found - him. How is Mam' Linda?” - </p> - <p> - “Nearly dead,” Helen answered, under her breath. - </p> - <p> - “And my mother?” he said. - </p> - <p> - “She is only worried,” Helen told him. “Your father thinks she will be all - right as soon as she is assured of your return.” - </p> - <p> - “Only worried? Why, he sent me word she was nearly dead,” Carson said, - with a feeble flare of indignation. “I wanted to stay, to be there to make - one final effort to convince them, but when the message reached me, and - things were at a standstill anyway, I came home, and now, even if I - started back to-night, I'd likely be too late. He tricked me—my - father tricked me!” - </p> - <p> - “And you yourself? Did you meet that—Dan Willis?” Helen asked. He - stared at her hesitatingly for an instant, and then said: “I happened not - to. He was very active in the chase and seemed always to be somewhere - else. He killed all my efforts.” Carson leaned heavily against the white - paling fence as he continued. “As soon as I'd talk a crowd of men into my - way of thinking, he'd come along and fire them with fury again. He told - them I was only making a grandstand play for the negro vote, and they - swallowed it. They swallowed it and jeered and hissed me as I went along. - Garner is right. I've killed every chance I ever had with those people. - But I don't care.” - </p> - <p> - Helen sighed. “Oh, Carson, you did it all because—because I felt as - I did about Pete. I know that was it.” - </p> - <p> - He made no denial as he stood awkwardly avoiding her eyes. - </p> - <p> - “I shall never, never forgive myself,” she said, in pained accents. “Mr. - Garner and all your friends say that your election was the one thing you - held desirable, the one thing that would—would thoroughly reinstate - you in your father's confidence, and yet I—I—oh, Carson I <i>did</i> - want you to win! I wanted it—wanted it—wanted it!” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, well, don't bother about that,” he said, and she saw that he was - trying to hide his own disappointment. “I admit I started into this - because—because I knew how keenly you felt for Linda, but to-day, - Helen, as I rode from mad throng to mad throng of those good men with - their dishevelled hair and bloodshot eyes, their very souls bent to that - trail, that pitiful trail of revenge, I began to feel that I was fighting - for a great principle, a principle that you had planted within me. I - gloried in it for its own sake, and because it had its birth in your sweet - sympathy and love for the unfortunate. I could never have experienced it - but for you.” - </p> - <p> - “But you failed,” Helen almost sobbed. “You failed.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, utterly. What I've done amounted to nothing more than irritating - them. Those men, many of whom I love and admire, were wounded to their - hearts, and I was only keeping their sores open with my fine-spun theories - of human justice. They will learn their lesson slowly, but <i>they will - learn it</i>. When they have caught and lynched poor, stupid Pete, they - may learn later that he was innocent, and then they will realize what I - was trying to keep them from doing. They will be friendly to me then, but - Wiggin will be in office.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, my father thinks this thing is going to defeat you.” Helen sighed. - “And, Carson, it's killing me to think that I am the prime cause of it. If - I'd had a man's head I'd have known that your effort could accomplish - nothing, and I'd have been like Mr. Garner and the others, and asked you - not to mix up in it; but I couldn't help myself. Mam' Linda has your name - on her lips with every breath. She thinks the sun rises and sets in you, - and that you only have to give an order to have it obeyed.” - </p> - <p> - “That's the pity of it,” Carson said, with a sigh. - </p> - <p> - At this juncture there was the sound of a window-sash sliding upward, and - old Dwight put out his head. - </p> - <p> - “Come on in!” he called out. “Your mother is awake and absolutely refuses - to believe you haven't a dozen bullet-holes in you.” - </p> - <p> - “All right, father, I'm coming,” Carson said, and impulsively he held out - his hand and clasped Helen's in a steady, sympathetic pressure. - </p> - <p> - “Now, you go to bed, little girl,” he said, more tenderly than he - realized. In fact, it was a term he had used only once before, long before - her brother's death. “Pardon me,” he pleaded; “I didn't know what I was - saying. I—I was worried over seeing you look so tired, and—and - I spoke without thinking.” - </p> - <p> - “You can say it whenever you wish, Carson,” she said. “As if I could get - angry at you after—after—” But she did not finish, for with - her hand still warmly clasping his fingers, she was listening to a distant - sound. It was a restless human tread on a resounding floor. - </p> - <p> - “It's Mam' Linda,” Helen said. “She walks like that night and day. I must - go to her and—tell her you are back, but oh, how <i>can</i> I? - Good-night, Carson. Ill never forget what you have done—never!” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XV. - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0017" id="linkimage-0017"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9139.jpg" alt="9139 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9139.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - FTER an almost sleepless night, spent for the greater part in despondent - reflections over his failure in the things to which he had directed his - hopes and energies, Carson rose about seven o'clock, went into his - mother's room to ask how she had rested through the night, and then - descended, to breakfast. It was eight o'clock when he arrived at the - office. Garner was there in a cloud of dust, sweeping a pile of torn - papers into the already filled fireplace. - </p> - <p> - “I'm going to touch a match to this the first rainy day—if I think - of it,” he said. “It's liable to set the roof on fire when it's dry as it - is now.” - </p> - <p> - “Any news from the mountains?” Carson asked, as he sat down at his desk. - </p> - <p> - “Yes; Pole Baker was in here just now.” Garner leaned his broom-handle - against the mantel-piece, and stood critically eying his partner's worn - face and dejected mien. “He said the mob, or mobs, for there are twenty - factions of them, had certainly hemmed Pete in. He was hiding somewhere on - Elk Knob, and they hadn't then located him. Pole left there long before - day and said they had already set in afresh. I reckon it will be over - soon. He told me to keep you here if I had to swear out a writ of - dangerous lunacy against you. He says you have not only killed your own - political chances, but that you couldn't save the boy if you were the - daddy of every man in the chase. They've smelled blood and they want to - taste it.” - </p> - <p> - “You needn't worry about me,” Carson said, dejectedly. “I realize how - helpless I was yesterday, and am still. There was only one thing that - might have been done if we had acted quickly, and that was to telegraph - the Governor for troops.” - </p> - <p> - “But you wouldn't sanction that; you know you wouldn't,” said Garner. “You - know every mother's son of those white men is acting according to the - purest dictates of his inner soul. They think they are right. They believe - in law, and while I am a member of the bar, by Heaven! I say to you that - our whole legal system is rotten to the core. Politics will clear a - criminal at the drop of a hat. A dozen voters can jerk a man from life - imprisonment to the streets of this town by a single telegram. No, you - know those sturdy men over there think they are right, and you would not - be the cause of armed men shooting them down like rabbits in a fence - corner.” - </p> - <p> - “No, they think they are right,” Carson said. “And they were my friends - till this came up. Any mail?” - </p> - <p> - “I haven't been to the post-office. I wish you'd go. You need exercise; - you are off color—you are as yellow as a new saddle. Drop this - thing. The Lord Himself can't make water run up-hill. Quit thinking about - it.” - </p> - <p> - Carson went out into the quiet street and walked along to the post-office. - At the intersection of the streets near the Johnston House, on any - ordinary day, a dozen drays and hacks in the care of negro drivers would - have been seen, and on the drays and about the hacks stood, as a rule, - many idle negro men and boys; but this morning the spot was significantly - vacant. At the negro barber-shop, kept by Buck Black, a mulatto of marked - dignity and intelligence for one of his race, only the black barbers might - be seen, and they were not lounging about the door, but stood at their - chairs, their faces grave, their tongues unusually silent. They might be - asking themselves questions as to the possible extent of the fires of - race-hatred just now raging—if the capture and death of Pete Warren - would quench the conflagration, or if it would roll on towards them like - the licking flames of a burning prairie—they might, I say, ask <i>themselves</i> - such questions, but to the patrons of their trade they kept discreet - silence. And no white man who went near them that day would ask them what - they believed or what they felt, for the blacks are not a people who give - much thought even to their own social problems. They had leaned for many - generations upon white guidance, and, with childlike, hereditary instinct, - they were leaning still. - </p> - <p> - Finding no letters of importance in the little glass-faced and numbered - box at the post-office, Carson, sick at heart and utterly discouraged, - went up to the Club. Here, idly knocking the balls about on a - billiard-table, a cigar in his mouth, was Keith Gordon. - </p> - <p> - “Want to play a game of pool?” he asked. - </p> - <p> - “Not this morning, old man,” Carson answered. - </p> - <p> - “Well, I don't either,” said Keith. “I went to the bank and tried to add - up some figures for the old man, but my thinker wouldn't work. It's out of - whack. That blasted nigger Pete is the prime cause of my being upset. I - came by Major Warren's this morning. Sister feels awfully sorry for Mam' - Linda, and asked me to take her a jar of jelly. You know old colored - people love little attentions like that from white people, when they are - sick or in trouble. Well”—Keith held up his hands, the palms outward—“I - don't want any more in mine. I've been to death-bed scenes, funerals, - wrecks on railroads, and all sorts of horrors, but that was simply too - much. It simply beggars description—to see that old woman bowed - there in her door like a dumb brute with its tongue tied to a stake. It - made me ashamed of myself, though, for not at least trying to do - something. I glory in you, old man. You failed, but you <i>tried</i>. - By-the-way, that's the only comfort Mam' Linda has had—the only - thing. Helen was there, the dear girl—and to think her visit home - has to be like this!—she was there trying to soothe the old woman, - but nothing that was said could produce anything but that awful groaning - of hers till Lewis said something about your going over there yesterday, - and that stirred her up. She rose in her chair and walked to the gate and - folded her big arms across her breast. - </p> - <p> - “'I thank God young marster felt fer me dat way,' she said. 'He's de best - young man on de face o' de earth. I'll go down ter my grave blessing 'im - fer dis. He's got er <i>soul</i> in 'im. He knows how old Mammy Lindy - feels en he was tryin' ter help her, God bless 'im! He couldn't do - nothin', but he tried—he tried, dough everybody was holdin' 'im back - en sayin' it would spile his 'lection. Well, if it <i>do</i> harm 'im, it - will show dat Gawd done turn ergin white en black bofe.' I came away,” - Keith finished, after a pause, in which Carson said nothing. “I couldn't - stand it. Helen was crying like a child, her face wet with tears, and she - wasn't trying to hide it. I was looking for some one to come every minute - with the final news, and I didn't want to face that. Good God, old man, - what are we coming to? Historians, Northern ones, seem to think the days - of slavery were benighted, but God knows such things as this never - happened then. Now, did it?” - </p> - <p> - “No; it's terrible,” Carson agreed, and he stepped to a window and looked - out over the roofs of the near-by stores to the wagon-yard beyond. - </p> - <p> - “Well, the great and only, the truly accepted one,” Keith went on, in a - lighter tone, “the man who did us all up brown, Mr. Earle Sanders, of - Augusta, has unwittingly chosen a gloomy date for his visit. He's here, - installed in the bridal-chamber of the Hotel de Johnston. Helen got a note - from him just as I was leaving. On my soul, old man—maybe it's - because I want to see it that way—but, really, it didn't seem to me - that she looked exactly elated, you know, like I imagined she would, from - the way the local gossips pile it on. You know, the idea struck me that - maybe she is not <i>really engaged</i>, after all.” - </p> - <p> - “She is worried; she is not herself to-day,” Carson said, coldly, though - in truth his blood was surging hotly through his veins. It had come at - last. The man who was to rob him of all he cared for in life was at hand. - Turning from Keith, he pretended to be looking over some of the dog-eared - magazines in the reading-room, and then feeling an overwhelming desire to - be alone with the dull pain in his breast, he waved a careless signal to - Keith and went down to the street. In front of the hotel stood a pair of - sleek, restive bays harnessed to a new top-buggy. They were held by the - owner of the best livery-stable in the town, a rough ex-mountaineer. - </p> - <p> - “Say, Carson,” the man called out, proudly, “you'll have to git up early - in the morning to produce a better yoke of thorough-breds than these. - Never been driven over these roads before. I didn't intend to let 'em out - fer public use right now, but a big, rich fellow from Augusta is here - sparkin', and he wanted the best I had and wouldn't touch anything else. - Money wasn't any object. He turned up his nose at all my other stock. Gee! - look at them trim legs and thighs—a dead match as two black-eyed - peas.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, they are all right.” Carson walked on and went into Blackburn's - store, for no other reason than that he wanted to avoid meeting people and - discussing the trouble Pete Warren was in, or hearing further comments on - the stranger's visit. He might have chosen a better retreat, however, for - in a group at the window nearest the hotel he found Blackburn, Garner, Bob - Smith, and Wade Tingle, all peering stealthily out through the dingy glass - at the team Carson had just inspected. - </p> - <p> - “He'll be out in a minute,” Wade was saying, in an undertone. “Quit - pushing me, Bob! They say he's got dead loads of money.” - </p> - <p> - “You bet he has,” Bob declared; “he had a wad of it in big bills large - enough to stuff a sofa-pillow with. Ike, the porter, who trucked his trunk - up, said he got a dollar tip. The head waiter is expecting to buy a farm - after he leaves. Gee! there he comes! Say, Garner, <i>you</i> ought to - know; is that a brandy-and-soda complexion?” - </p> - <p> - “No, he doesn't drink a drop,” answered Garner. “Well, he looks all right, - as well as I can see through this immaculate window with my eyes full of - spiderwebs. My, what clothes! Say, Bob, is that style of derby the thing - now? It looks like an inverted milk-bucket. Come here, Carson, and take a - peep at the conqueror. If Keith were here we'd have a quomm. By George, - there's Keith now! He's watching at the window of the barber-shop. Call - him over, Blackburn. Let's have him here; we need more pall-bearers.” - </p> - <p> - “Seems to me you boys are the corpses,” Blackburn jested. “I'd be ashamed - to let a clothing-store dummy like that beat me to the tank.” - </p> - <p> - Carson had heard enough. In his mood and frame of mind their open - frivolity cut him to the quick. Going out, unnoticed by the others, he - went to his office. In the little, dusty consultation-room in the rear - there was an old leather couch. On this he threw himself. There had been - moments in his life when he had worn the crown of misery, notably the day - Albert Warren was buried, when, on approaching Helen to offer her his - sympathies, she had turned from him with a shudder. That had been a gloomy - hour, but <i>this</i>—he covered his face with his hands and lay - still. On that day a faint hope had vaguely fluttered within him—a - hope of reformation; a hope of making a worthy place for himself in life - and of ultimately winning her favor and forgiveness. But now it was all - over. He had actually seen with his own eyes the man who was to be her - husband. He was sure now that the report was true. The visit at such a - grave crisis confirmed all that had been said. Helen had telegraphed him - of her trouble, and Sanders had made all haste to reach her side. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XVI. - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0018" id="linkimage-0018"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9147.jpg" alt="9147 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9147.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - EHIND the dashing bays the newcomer drove down to Warren's. On the seat - beside him sat a negro boy sent from the livery-stable to hold the horses. - Sanders was dressed in the height of fashion, was young, of the blond - type, and considered handsome. A better figure no man need have desired. - The people living in the Warren neighborhood, who peered curiously out of - windows, not having Dwight's affairs at heart, indulged in small wonder - over the report that Helen was about to accept such a specimen of city - manhood in preference to Carson or any of “the home boys.” - </p> - <p> - Alighting at the front gate, Sanders went to the door and rang. He was - admitted by a colored maid and shown into the quaint old parlor with its - tall, gilt-framed, pier-glass mirrors and carved mahogany furniture. The - wide front, lace-curtained windows, which opened on a level with the - veranda floor, let in a cooling breeze which was most agreeable in - contrast to the beating heat out-of-doors. - </p> - <p> - He had only a few minutes to wait, for Helen had just returned from a - visit to Linda's cottage and was in the library across the hall. He heard - her coming and stood up, flushing expectantly, an eager light flashing in - his eyes. - </p> - <p> - “I am taking you by surprise,” he said, as he grasped her extended hand - and held it for an instant. - </p> - <p> - “Well, you know you told me when I left,” Helen said, “that it would be - impossible for you to get away from business till after the first of next - month, so I naturally supposed—” - </p> - <p> - “The trouble was”—he laughed as he stood courteously waiting for her - to sit before doing so himself—“the trouble was that I didn't know - myself then as I do now. I thought I could wait like any sensible man of - my age, but I simply couldn't, Helen. After you left, the town was simply - unbearable. I seemed not to want to go anywhere but to the places to which - we went together, and there I suffered a regular agony of the blues. The - truth is, I'm killing two birds with one stone. We were about to send our - lawyer to Chattanooga to settle up a legal matter there, and I persuaded - my partner to let me do it. So you see, after all, I shall not be wholly - idle. I can run up there from here and back, I believe, in the same day.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, it is not far,” Helen answered. “We often go up there to do - shopping.” - </p> - <p> - “I'm going to confess something else,” Sanders said, flushing slightly. - “Helen, you may not forgive me for it, but I've been uneasy.” - </p> - <p> - “Uneasy?” Helen leaned as far back in her chair as she could, for he had - bent forward till his wide, hungry eyes were close to hers. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I've fought the feeling every day and night since you left. At times - my very common-sense would seem to conquer and I'd feel a little better - about it, but it would only be a short time till I'd be down in the dregs - again.” - </p> - <p> - “Why, what is the matter?” Helen asked, half fearfully. - </p> - <p> - “It was your letters, Helen,” he said, his handsome face very grave as he - leaned towards her. - </p> - <p> - “My letters? Why, I wrote as often—even often-er—than I - promised,” the girl said. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, don't think me over-exacting,” Sanders implored her with eyes and - voice. “I know you did all you agreed to do, but somehow—well, you - know you seemed so much like one of us down there that I had become - accustomed to thinking of you as almost belonging to Augusta; but your - letters showed how very dear Darley and its people are to you, and I was - obliged to—well, face the grim fact that we have a strong rival here - in the mountains.” - </p> - <p> - “I thought you knew that I adore my old home,” she said, simply. - </p> - <p> - “Oh yes, I know—most people do—but, Helen, the letter you - wrote about the dance your friends—your 'boys,' as you used to call - them—gave you at that quaint club, why, it is simply a piece of - literature. I've read it over and over time after time.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I only wrote as I felt, out of a full heart,” the girl said. “When - you meet them, and know them as I do, you will not wonder at my fidelity—at - my enthusiasm over that particular tribute.” - </p> - <p> - Sanders laughed. “Well, I suppose I am simply jealous—jealous not - alone for myself, but for Augusta. Why, you can't imagine how you are - missed. A party of the old crowd went around to your aunt's as usual the - Wednesday following your departure, but we were so blue we could hardly - talk to one another. Helen, the spirit of our old gatherings was gone. - Your aunt actually cried, and your uncle really drank too much brandy and - soda.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, you mustn't think I don't miss them all,” Helen said, deeply - touched. “I think of them every day. It was only that I had been away so - long that it was glorious to get back home—to my real home again. I - love it down there; it is beautiful; you were all so lovely to me, but - this here is different.” - </p> - <p> - “That's what I felt in reading your letters,” Sanders said. “A tone of - restful content and happiness was in every line you wrote. Somehow, I - wanted you, in my selfish heart, to be homesick for us so that you would”—the - visitor drew a deep breath—“be all the more likely to—to - consent to live there, you know, <i>some day</i>, permanently.” Helen made - no reply, and Sanders, flushing deeply, wisely turned the subject, as he - rose and went to a window and drew the curtain aside. - </p> - <p> - “Do you see those horses?” he asked, with a smile. “I brought them - thinking I might prevail on you to take a drive with me this morning. I - have set my heart on seeing some of the country around the town, and I - want to do it with you. I hope you can go.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, not to-day! I couldn't think of it to-day!” Helen cried, impulsively. - </p> - <p> - “Not to-day?” he said, crestfallen. - </p> - <p> - “No. Haven't you heard about Mam' Linda's awful trouble?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, that is <i>her</i> son!” Sanders said. “I heard something of it at - the hotel. I see. She really must be troubled.” - </p> - <p> - “It is a wonder it hasn't killed her,” Helen answered. “I have never seen - a human being under such frightful torture.” - </p> - <p> - “And can nothing be done?” Sanders asked. “I'd really like to be of use—to - help, you know, in <i>some</i> way.” - </p> - <p> - “There is nothing to be done—nothing that <i>can</i> be done,” Helen - said. “She knows that, and is simply waiting for the end.” - </p> - <p> - “It's too bad,” Sanders remarked, awkwardly. “Might I go to see her?” - </p> - <p> - “I think you'd better not,” said the girl. “I don't believe she would care - to see any but very old friends. I used to think I could comfort her, but - even I fail now. She is insensible to anything but that one haunting - horror. She has tried a dozen times to go over to the mountains, but my - father and Uncle Lewis have prevented it. That mob, angry as they are, - might really kill her, for she would fight for her young like a tigress, - and people wrought up like those are mad enough to do anything.” - </p> - <p> - “And some people think the negro may not really be guilty, do they not?” - Sanders asked. - </p> - <p> - “I am sure he is not,” Helen sighed. “I feel it; I know it.” - </p> - <p> - There was the sound of a closing gate, and Helen looked out. - </p> - <p> - “It is my father,” she said. “Perhaps he has heard something.” - </p> - <p> - Leaving her guest, she went out to the steps. “Whose turn-out?” the Major - asked, with admiring curiosity, indicating the horses and buggy. - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Sanders has come,” she said, simply. “He's in the parlor. Is there - any news?” - </p> - <p> - “Nothing.” The old man removed his hat and wiped his perspiring brow. - “Nothing except that Carson Dwight has gone over there on a fast horse. - Linda sent him a message, begging him to make one more effort, and he - went. All his friends tried to stop him, but he dashed out of town like a - madman. He won't accomplish a thing, and it may cost him his life, but - he's the right sort, daughter. He's got a heart in him as big as all - out-of-doors. Blackburn told him Dan Willis was over there, a raging demon - in human shape, but it only made Carson the more determined. His father - saw him and ordered him back, and was speechless with fury when Carson - simply waved his hand and rode on. Go back to the parlor. I'll join you in - a minute.” - </p> - <p> - “Have you heard anything?” Sanders asked, as Helen re-entered the room and - stood white and distraught before him. - </p> - <p> - She hesitated, her shifting glance on the floor, and then she stared at - him almost as one in a dream. “He has heard nothing except—except - that Carson Dwight has gone over there. He has gone. Mam' Linda begged him - to make one other effort and he couldn't resist her. She—she was - good to his mother and to him when he was a child, and he feels grateful. - She thinks he is the only one that can help. She told me last night that - she believed in him as she once believed in God. He can do nothing, but he - knew it would comfort her for him to try.” - </p> - <p> - “This Mr. Dwight is one of your—your old friends, is he not?” - </p> - <p> - Sanders' face was the playground of conflicting emotions as he stood - staring at her. - </p> - <p> - “Yes,” Helen answered; “one of my best and truest.” - </p> - <p> - “He has undertaken a dangerous thing, has he not?” Sanders managed to say. - </p> - <p> - “Dangerous?” Helen shuddered. “He has an enemy there who is now seeking - his life. They are sure to meet. They have already quarrelled, and—<i>about - this very thing</i>.” - </p> - <p> - She sat down in the chair she had just left and Sanders stood near her. - There was a voice in the hall. It was the Major ordering a servant to - bring in mint julep, and the next moment he was in the parlor hospitably - introducing himself to the visitor. - </p> - <p> - Seeing her opportunity, Helen rose and left them together. She went up to - her room, with heavy, dragging footsteps, and stood at the window - overlooking the Dwight garden and lawn. - </p> - <p> - Carson knew that Sanders was in town, she told herself, in gloomy - self-reproach. He knew his rival was with her, and right now as the poor - boy was speeding on to—his death, he thought Sanders was making love - to her. Helen bit her quivering lip and clinched her fingers. “Poor boy!” - she thought, almost with a sob, “he deserves better treatment than that.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XVII - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0019" id="linkimage-0019"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9154.jpg" alt="9154 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9154.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - N his escape from the sheriff and his deputy, Pete Warren ran with the - speed of a deer-hound through the near-by woods. Thinking his pursuers - were close behind him, he did not stop even to listen to their footsteps. - Through dell and fen, up hill and down, over rocks and through tangled - undergrowth he forged his way, his tongue lolling from the corner of his - gaping mouth. The thorns and briers had tom gashes in his cheeks, neck, - and hands, and left his clothing in strips. The wild glare of a hunted - beast was in his eyes. The land was gradually sloping upward. He was - getting upon the mountain. For a moment the distraught creature paused, - bent his ear to listen and try to decide, rationally, calmly, which was - the better plan, to hide in the caverns and craggy recesses of the - frowning heights above or speed onward over more level ground. For a - moment the drumlike pounding of his heart was all the sound he heard, and - then the blast of a hunter's horn broke the stillness, not two hundred - yards away, and was thrown back in reverberating echoes from the - mountain-side. This was followed by a far-off answering shout, the report - of a signal-gun, and then the mellow, terrifying baying of blood-hounds - fell upon his ears. Pete stood erect, his knees quivering. No thought of - prayer passed through his brain. Prayer, to his mind, was only a series of - empty vocal sounds heard chiefly in churches where black men and women - stood or knelt in their best clothes, and certainly not for emergencies - like this, where granite heavens were closing upon stony earth and he was - caught between. - </p> - <p> - Suddenly bending lower, and fresher for the second wind he had got, he - sped onward again, choosing the valley rather than the steeper - mountain-side. Shouts, gun reports, horn-blasts, and the baying of the - hounds now followed him. Presently he came to a clear mountain creek about - twenty feet wide and not deeper anywhere than his waist, and in many - places barely covering the slimy brown stones over which it flowed. Here, - as if by inspiration, came the remembrance of some story he had heard - about a pursued negro managing to elude the scent of blood-hounds by - taking to water, and into the icy stream Pete plunged, and, slipping, - stumbling, falling, he made his way onward. - </p> - <p> - But his reason told him this slow method really would not benefit him, for - his pursuers would soon catch up and see him from the banks. He had waded - up the stream about a quarter of a mile, when he came to a spot where the - stout branches of a sturdy leaning beech hung down within his reach. The - idea which came to him was worthy of a white man's brain, for, pulling on - the bough and finding it firm, he decided upon the original plan of - getting out of the water there, where his trail would be lost to sight or - scent, and climbing into the dense foliage above. His pursuers might not - think to look upward at exactly that spot, and the hounds, bent on - catching the scent from the ground where he landed, would speed onward, - farther and farther away. At all events it was worth the trial. - </p> - <p> - With quivering hands he drew the bough down till its leaves sank under the - water. It bore his weight well and from it he climbed to the massive trunk - and higher upward, till, in a fork of the tree, he rested, noticing, with - a throb of relief, that the bough had righted itself and hung as before - above the surface of the stream. On came the dogs; he could not hear them - now, for, intent upon their work, they made no sound, but the hoarse, - maddened voices of men under their guidance reached his ears. The swish - through the undergrowth, the patter, as of rain on dry leaves, as their - claws hurled the ground behind them, the snuffing and sneezing—<i>that - was the hounds</i>. Closer and closer Pete hugged the tree, hardly - breathing, fearing now that the water dripping from his clothing or the - bruised leaves of the bough might betray his presence. But the hounds, one - on either side of the stream, their noses to the earth, dashed on. Pete - caught only a gleam of their sleek, dim coats and they were gone. Behind - them, panting, followed a dozen men. In his fear of being seen, Pete dared - not even look at their inflamed faces. With closed eyes pressed against - his wet coat-sleeve, he clung to his place, a hunted thing, neither fish, - fowl, nor beast, and yet, like them all, a creature of the wilderness, - endowed with the instinct of self-preservation. - </p> - <p> - “They will run 'im down!” he heard a man say. “Them dogs never have - failed. The black devil thought he'd throw 'em off by taking to water. He - didn't know we had one for each bank.” - </p> - <p> - On ran the men, the sound of their progress becoming less and less audible - as they receded. Was he safe now? Pete's slow intelligence answered no. He - was still fully alive to his danger. He might stay there for awhile, but - not for long. Already, perhaps owing to his desperate running, he had an - almost maddening thirst, a thirst which the sheer sight of the cool stream - so near tantalized. Should he descend, satisfy his desire, and attempt to - regain his place of hiding? No, for he might not seclude himself so - successfully the next time. Then, with his face resting on his arm, he - began to feel drowsy. Twisting his body about, he finally found himself in - a position in which he could recline still close to the tree and rest a - little, though his feet and legs, surcharged with blood, were painfully - weighted downward. The forest about him was very quiet. Some bluebirds - above his head were singing merrily. A gray squirrel with a fuzzy tail was - perched inquiringly on the brown bough of a near-by pine. Pete reclined - thus for several minutes, and then the objects about him appeared to be in - a blur. The far off shouts, horn-blasts, and gun reports beat less - insistently on his tired brain, and then he found himself playing with a - kitten—the queerest, most amusing kitten—in the sunlight in - front of his mother's door. - </p> - <p> - He must have slept for hours, for when he opened his eyes the sun was - sinking behind the top of a distant hill. He tried to draw his aching legs - up higher and felt stinging pricks of pain from his hips to his toes, as - his blood leaped into circulation again. After several efforts he - succeeded in standing on the bough. To his pangs of thirst were now added - those of hunger. For hours he stood thus. He saw the light of day die out, - first on the landscape and later from the clear sky. Now, he told himself, - under cover of night, he would escape, but something happened to prevent - the attempt. Through the darkness he saw the flitting lights off many pine - torches. They passed to and fro under the trees, sometimes quite near him, - and as far as he could see up the mountain-sides they flickered like the - sinister night-eyes of his doom. He stood till he felt as if he could do - so no longer, and then he got down on the bough as before, and after hours - of conscious hunger and thirst and cramping pains he slept again. Thus he - passed that night, and when the golden rays of sunlight came piercing the - gray mountain mists and flooding the landscape with its warm glory, Pete - Warren, hearing the voices of sleepless revenge, now more numerous and - harsh and packed with hate—hearing them on all sides from far and - near—dared not stir. He remained perched in his leafy nook like some - half-knowing, primeval thing, avoiding the flint-tipped arrows of the - high-cheeked, straight-haired men lurking beneath. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XVIII - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0020" id="linkimage-0020"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9159.jpg" alt="9159 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9159.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - ARSON DWIGHT remained two days in the vicinity of his farm waiting - gloomily for the discovery and arrest of Pete Warren, his sole hope being - that at the last grewsome moment he might prevail on the distraught - man-hunters to listen to a final appeal for law and order. He was forced, - however, to return to Darley, feeling sure, as did the others, that Pete - was hiding in some undiscovered place in the mountains, or shrewd and deft - enough to avoid the approach of man or hound. But it would not be for - long, the hunters told themselves, for the entire spot was surrounded and - well guarded and they would starve him out. - </p> - <p> - “The gang” breathed more freely when they saw Carson appear in the doorway - of the den on the night of his return, and learned that through some - miracle he had failed to meet Dan Willis, though not one of them was - favorably impressed by the outward appearance of their leader. His eyes, - in their darkened sockets, gleamed like despondent fires; on his tanned - cheeks hectic flushes had appeared and his hands quivered as if from - nervous exhaustion. Not a man among them dared reproach him for the - further and futile political mistake he had made. He was a ruined man, and - yet they admired him the more as they looked down on him, begrimed with - the dregs of his failure. Garner's opinion, to himself expressed, was that - Dwight was a failure only on the surface, but that it was the surface - which counted everywhere except in heaven, and there no one knew what sort - of coin would be current. Garner loved him. He loved him for his hopeless - fidelity to Helen, for his firm-jawed clinging to a mere principle, such - as trying to keep an old negro woman who had faith in him from breaking - her heart, for his risking death itself to obtain full justice-for the - black boy who was his servant. Yes, Garner mused, Carson certainly - deserved a better deal all round, but deserving a thing according to the - highest ethics, and getting it according to the lowest were different. - </p> - <p> - I The following night there was a queer, secret meeting of negroes in the - town. Stealthily they left their cabins and ramshackle homes, and one by - one they glided through the darkest streets and alleys to the house of one - Neb Wynn, a man who had acquired his physical being and crudely unique - personality from the confluence of three distinct streams of blood—the - white, the Cherokee Indian, and the negro. He owned and drove a dray on - the streets of the town, and being economical he had accumulated enough - means to build the two-story frame (not yet painted) house in which he - lived. The lower floor was used as a negro restaurant, which Neb's wife - managed, the upper was devoted to the family bedroom, a guest-chamber for - any one who wished to spend the night, and a fair-sized “hall,” with - windows on the street, which was rented to colored people for any purpose, - such as dances, lodge meetings or church sociables. - </p> - <p> - It was in this room, where no light burned, that the negroes assembled. - Indeed, no sort of illumination was used below, and when a negro who had - been secretly summoned reached the spot, he assured himself that no one - was in sight, and then he approached the restaurant door on tiptoe, rapped - twice with his knuckles, paused a moment, and then rapped three times. - Thereupon Neb, with his ear to the key-hole on the inside, cautiously - opened the door and drew the applicant within, and, closing the shutter - softly, asked, “What is the password?” - </p> - <p> - “Mercy,” was the whispered reply. - </p> - <p> - “What's the countersign?” - </p> - <p> - “Peace an' good-will to all men. Thy will be done. Amen.” - </p> - <p> - “All right, I know you,” Neb would say. “Go up ter de hall en set down, - but mind you, don't speak <i>one</i> word!” - </p> - <p> - And thus they gathered—the men who were considered the most - substantial colored citizens of the town. About ten o'clock Neb crept - cautiously up the narrow stairs, entered the room, and sat down. - </p> - <p> - “We are all here,” he announced. “Brother Hard-castle, I'm done wid my - part. I ain't no public speaker; I'll leave de rest ter you.” - </p> - <p> - A figure in one of the comers rose. He was the leading negro minister of - the place. He cleared his throat and then said: “I would open with prayer, - but to pray we ought to stand or kneel, and either thing would make too - much disturbance. We can only ask God in our hearts, brothers, to be with - us here in the darkness, and help lead us out of our trouble; help us to - decide if we can, singly or in a body, what course to pursue in the grave - matter that faces our race. We are being sorely tried, tried almost past - endurance, but the God of the white man is the God of the black. Through a - dark skin the light of a pure heart shines as far in an appeal for help - towards the throne of Heaven as through a white. I'm not prepared to make - a speech. I can't. I am too full of sorrow and alarm. I have just left the - mother of the accused boy and the sight of her suffering has upset me. I - have no harsh words, either, for the white men of this town. Every - self-respecting colored citizen has nothing but words of praise for the - good white men of the South, and in my heart, I can't much blame the men - of the mountains who are bent on revenge, for the crime perpetrated by one - of our race was horrible enough to justify their rage. It is only that we - want to see full justice done and the absolutely innocent protected. I - have been talking to Brother Black to-day, and I feel—” - </p> - <p> - He broke off, for a hiss of warning as low as the rattle of a hidden snake - escaped Neb Wynn's lips. On the brick sidewalk below the steps of some - solitary passer-by rang crisply on the still night air. It died away in - the distance and again all was quiet. - </p> - <p> - “Now you kin go on,” Neb said. “We des got to be careful, gen'men. Ef a - meetin' lak dis was knowed ter be on tap de last one of us would be in - trouble, en dey would pull my house down fust. You all know dat.” - </p> - <p> - “You are certainly right,” the preacher resumed. “I was only going to call - on Brother Black to say something in a line with the-talk I had with him - today. He's got the right idea.” - </p> - <p> - “I'm not a speaker,” Buck Black began, as he stood up. “A man who runs a - barber-shop don't have any too much time ter read and study, but I've giv' - dis subject a lot o' thought fust an' last. I almost giv' up after dat big - trouble in Atlanta; I 'lowed dar wasn't no way out of we-alls' plight, but - I think diffunt now. A <i>white</i> man made me see it. I read some'n' - yesterday in the biggest paper in dis State. It was written by de editor - an' er big owner in it. Gen'men, it was de fust thing I've seed dat seemed - ter me ter come fum on high as straight as a bolt of lightnin'. Brother - black men, dat editor said dat de white race had tried de whip-lash, de - rope, en de firebrand fer forty years en de situation was still as bad as - ever. He said de question never would be plumb settled till de superior - race extend a kind, helpful hand ter de ignorant black an' lead 'im out er - his darkness en sin en crime. Gen'men, dem words went thoo en thoo me. I - knowed dat man myself, when I lived in Atlanta; I've seed his honest face - en know he meant what he said. He said it was time ter blaze er new trail, - er trail dat hain't been blazed befo'—er trail of love en - forgiveness en pity, er trail de Lord Jesus Christ would blaze ef he was - here in de midst o' dis struggle.” - </p> - <p> - “Dat so, dat so!” Neb Wynn exclaimed, in a rasping whisper. “Gawd know dat - de trufe.” - </p> -<p> -“An' I'm here ter-night,” Buck Black continued, “ter say ter you all dat -I'm ready ter join fo'ces wid white men like dat. De old time white man -was de darky's best friend; he owned 'im, but he helped 'im. In de old -slave days black crimes lak our race is guilty of ter-day was never -heard of—never nowhar! Dar's er young white man here in dis town, too, -dat I love,” Black continued, after a pause. “I needn't mention his -name; I bound you it is writ on every heart in dis room. You all know -what he did yesterday an' day befo'—in spite er all de argument en -persuasions of his friends dat is backin' 'im in politics, he went out -dar ter de mountains in de thick o' it. I got it straight. I seed er man -fum dar yesterday, en he said Marse Carson Dwight was out 'mongst dem men -pleadin' wid 'em ter turn Pete over ter him en de law. He promised ter -give er bond dat was big enough ter wipe out all he owned on earth, ef -dey'd only spare de boy's life en give 'im a trial. Dey say Dan Willis -wanted ter shoot 'im, but Willis's own friends wouldn't let 'im git nigh - 'im. I was in my shop last night when he come in town an' axed me ter -shave 'im up so he could go home en pacify his mother. She was sick en -anxious about him. He got in my chair. Gen'men, I used ter brag beca'se -I shaved General John B. Gordon once, when he was up here speakin', but -fum now on my boast will be shavin' Marse Carson Dwight. He got in de -chair an' laid back so tired he looked lak er dyin' man. He was all -spattered fum head ter foot wid mud dat he'd walked an' rid thoo. I was -so sorry fer 'im I could hardly do my work. I was cryin' half de time, -dough he didn't see it, 'ca'se he jes layed dar wid his eyes closed. -Hate de white race lak some say we do?” Black's voice rose higher and -quivered. “No, suh, I'll never hate de race dat fetched dat white man in -dis world. When he got out de chair de fus thing he ax was ef I'd heard -how Mam' Lindy was. I told 'im she was pretty bad off, worried in her -mind lak she was; den he turn fum de glass whar he was tyin' his necktie -wid shaky fingers en said: 'I thought I might fetch 'er some hope, Buck, -but I done give up. Ef I only had Pete in my charge safe in er good -reliable jail I could free 'im, fer I don't believe he killed dem -folks.'” - </p> - <p> - Buck Black paused. It was plain that his hearers were much affected, - though no sound at all escaped them. The speaker was about to resume, when - he was prevented by a sharp rapping on the stair below. - </p> - <p> - “Hush!” Neb Wynn commanded, in a warning whisper. He crept on tiptoe - across the carpetless room, out into the hallway, and leaned over the - baluster. - </p> - <p> - “Who dat?” he asked, in a calm, raised voice. - </p> - <p> - “It's me, Neb. I want ter see you. Come down!” - </p> - <p> - “It's my wife>” Neb informed the breathless room. “Sounds lak she's scared - 'bout some'n'. Don't say er word till I git back. Mind, you folks got ter - be careful ter-night.” - </p> - <p> - He descended the creaking stairs to the landing below. They caught the low - mumbling of his voice intermingled with the perturbed tones of his wife, - and then he crept back to them, strangely silent they thought, for after - he had resumed his seat against the wall in the dark human circle, they - heard only his heavy breathing. Fully five minutes passed, and then he - sighed as if throwing something off his mind, some weight of perplexing - indecision. - </p> - <p> - “Well, go on wid what you was sayin', Brother Black,” he said. “I reckon - our meetin' won't be 'sturbed.” - </p> - <p> - “I almost got to what I was coming to,” Buck Black continued, rising and - leaning momentously on the back of his chair. “I was leadin' up to a gre't - surprise, gen'men. I'm goin' to tell you faithful friends a secret, a - secret which, ef it was out dat we knowed it, might hang us all. So far it - rests wid des me an' a black 'oman dat kin be trusted, my wife. Gen'men, I - know whar Pete Warren is. I kin lay my hands on 'im any time. He's right - here in dis town ter-night.” - </p> - <p> - A subdued burst of surprise rose from the dark room, then all was still, - so still that the speaker's grasp of his chair gave forth a harsh, rasping - sound. - </p> -<p> -“Yes, my wife seed 'im in de ol' lumber-yard back o' our house, en he -was sech er sight ter look at dat she mighty nigh went out'n 'er senses. -He was all cut in de face, en his clothes en shoes was des hangin' ter - 'im by strings, en his eyes was 'most poppin' out'n his head. He was -starvin' ter death—hadn't had a bite t' eat since he run off. When she -seed 'im it was about a hour by sun, en he begged 'er to fetch 'im some -victuals. Gen'men, he was so hungry dat she say he licked her han's lak -er dog, en cried en tuck on powerful. She come home en told me, en ax me -what ter do. Gen'men, 'fo' God on high I want ter do my duty ter my -race en also to de white, but I couldn't see any safe way ter meddle. -De white folks, some of 'em, anyway, say dat we aid en encourage -crimes 'mongst our people, en while my heart was bleedin' fer dat boy en -his folks, I couldn't underhanded he'p 'im widout goin' ter de men in -power accordin' ter law.” - </p> - <p> - “And you did right,” spoke up the minister. “As much as I pity the boy, I - would have acted as you have done. He is accused of murder and is an - escaped prisoner. To decide that he was innocent and help him escape is - exactly what we are blaming his pursuers for doing—taking the law - into hands not sanctioned by authority. There is only one thing that can - decide the matter, and that is the decision of a judge and jury.” - </p> - <p> - “Dat's exactly de way I looked at it,” said Black, “en so I tol' my wife - not ter go nigh 'im ergin. I knowed dis meetin' was up fer ter-night, en I - des thought I'd fetch it here en lay it 'fo' you all en take er vote on - it.” - </p> - <p> - “A good idea,” said the minister from his chair. “And, brethren, it seems - to me we, as a body of representative negroes of this town, have now a - golden opportunity to prove our actual sincerity to the white race. As you - say, Brother Black, we have been accused of remaining inactive when a - criminal was being pursued for crimes against the white people. If we can - agree on it to a unit, and can turn the prisoner over now that all efforts - of the whites to apprehend him have failed, our act will be flashed all - round the civilized world and give the lie to the charge in question. Do - you think, Brother Black, that Pete Warren is still hiding near your - house?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I do,” answered the barber. “He would be afeard ter leave dat place, - en I reckon he's waitin' dar now fer my wife ter fetch 'im some'n' ter - eat.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, then, all we've got to do is to see if we can thoroughly agree on - the plan proposed. I suppose one of the first things, if we do agree to - turn him over to the law, is to consult with Mr. Carson Dwight and see if - he can devise a way of acting with perfect safety to the prisoner and all - concerned. If he can, our duty is clear.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, he's de man, God knows dat,” Black said, enthusiastically. “He won't - let us run no risk.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, then,” said the minister, who had the floor, “let us put it to a - vote. Of course, it must be unanimous. We can't act on a thing as - dangerous as this without a thorough agreement. Now, you have all heard - the plan proposed. Those in favor make it known by standing up as quietly - as you possibly can, so that I may count you.” - </p> - <p> - Very quietly, for so many acting in concert, men on all sides of the hall - stood up. The minister then began to grope round the room, touching with - his hands the standing voters. - </p> - <p> - “Who's this?” he suddenly exclaimed, when he reached Neb Wynn's chair and - lowered his hands to the drayman, who was the only one not standing. “It's - me,” Neb answered; “me, dat's who—<i>me!</i>” - </p> - <p> - “Oh!” There was an astonished pause. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, it's me. I ain't votin' yo' way,” Neb said. “You all kin act fer - yo'selves. I know what I'm about.” - </p> - <p> - “But what's de matter wid you?” Buck Black demanded, rather sharply. “All - dis time you been de most anxious one ter do some'n', en now when we got - er chance ter act wid judgment en caution, all in a body, en, as Brother - Hardcastle say, ter de honor of ou' race, why you up en—” - </p> - <p> - “Hold on, des keep yo' shirt on!” said Neb, in a queer, tremulous voice. - “Gen'men, I ain't placed des zactly de same es you-all is. I don't want - ter tek de whole 'sponsibility on my shoulders, en I don't intend to.” - </p> - <p> - “You are not taking it all on your shoulders, brother,” said the minister, - calmly; “we are acting in a body.” - </p> -<p> -“No, it's all on <i>me</i>,” Neb said. “You said, Buck Black, dat Pete was in -de lumber-yard 'hind yo' house. He ain't. You might search ever' stack o' -planks en ever' dry-kiln dar, but you wouldn't fin' 'im. He's a cousin -er my wife's, en me'n dat boy was good, true friends, en so he come -here des now, when you heard my wife call me, an' th'owed hisse'f on my -mercy. He's out at my stable now, up in de hay-loft, waitin' fer me ter -fetch 'im suppin ter eat, as soon as you all go off. My wife say he's -de most pitiful thing dat God ever made, en, gen'men, I'm sorry fer 'im. -Law or no law, I'm sorry <i>fer</i> 'im. It's all well enough fer you ter set -here in yo' good clothes wid good meals er victuals inside o' you, en -know you got er good safe baid ter go ter—it's all well enough fer you -ter vote on what is ter be done, but ef you <i>do</i> vote fer it en clap - 'im 'hind de bars en he's hung—hung by de neck till he's as stiff es a -bone, you'll be helpin' ter do it. Law is one thing when it's law, it's -another thing when it ain't fit ter spit on. You all talk <i>jestice, -jestice</i>, en you think it would be er powerful fine thing ter prove ter -de worl' how honest you all is by handin' dat po' yaller dog over to de -law. Put yo'selves in Pete's shoes an' you wouldn't be so easy ter vote -yo'selves 'hind de bars. You'd say de bird in de han' is wuth three in -de bush, en you'd stay away firm de white man's court-house. De white -men say deirselves dat dar ain't no jestice, en dey's right. Carson -Dwight is er good lawyer, en he'd fight till he drapped in his tracks, -but de State solicitor would rake up enough agin Pete Warren to keep de -jury's blood b'ilin'. Whar'd dey git a jury but fum de ranks o' de very -men dat's chasin' Pete lak er rabbit now? Whar'd dey git a jury dat ud -believe in his innocence when dey kin prove dat he done threatened de -daid man? No whar in dis State. No innocent nigger's ever been hung, -hein? No innocent nigger's in de chain gang, hein? Huh, dey as thick dar -es fleas.” - </p> - <p> - When Neb had ceased speaking not a voice broke the stillness of the room - for several minutes, then the minister said, with a deep-drawn breath: - “Well, there is really no harm in looking at all sides of the question. - The very view you have taken, Brother Wynn, may be the one that has really - kept colored people from being more active in the legal punishment of - their race. But it seems to me that it would only be fair, since you say - Pete Warren is near, for him to be told of the situation and left to - decide for himself.” - </p> - <p> - “I'm willin' ter do dat, God knows,” said Neb, “en ef y'all say so, I'll - fetch 'im here en you kin splain it ter 'im.” - </p> - <p> - “I'm sure that will be best,” said Hardcastle. “Hurry up. To save time, - you might bring his food here—that is, if your wife has not taken it - to him.” - </p> - <p> - “No, she was afeard ter go out dar. I'll mek 'er fetch it up here while I - go after him. It may tek time, fer he may be afeard to come in. But ef I - tell 'im de grub's here, I bound you he'll come a-hustlin'.” - </p> - <p> - They heard Neb's voice below giving instructions to his wife, and then the - outer door in the rear was opened and closed. Presently a step was heard - on the stair, and they held their breaths expectantly, but it was only - Neb's wife with a tray of food. Gropingly she placed it on a little table, - which she softly dragged from a corner into the centre of the room, and - without a word retired. A door below creaked on its hinges; steps - shambling and unsteady resounded hollowly from the floor beneath, and - Neb's urgent, pacific voice rose to the tense ears of the listeners, “Come - on; don't be a baby, Pete!” they heard Neb say. “Dey all yo' friends en - want ter he'p you out 'n yo' trouble ef dey kin.” - </p> - <p> - “Whar dat meat? whar it? oh, God! whar it?” It was the voice of the - pursued boy, and it had a queer, uncanny sound that all but struck terror - to the hearts of the listeners. - </p> - <p> - “She lef' it up dar whar dey all is,” Neb said; “come on! I'll give it to - you!” - </p> - <p> - That seemed to settle the matter, for the clambering steps drew nearer; - and then two figures slightly denser than the darkness came into the room. - </p> - <p> - “Wait; let me git you er chair,” Neb said. - </p> - <p> - “Whar it? whar it? my God! whar dat meat?” Pete cried, in a harsh, rasping - voice. - </p> - <p> - “Whar'd she put it?” Neb asked. “Hanged ef I know.” - </p> - <p> - “On the table,” said Hardcastle. - </p> - <p> - Neb reached out for the tray and had barely touched it, when Pete sprang - at him with a sound like the snarl of an angry dog. The tray fell with a - crash to the floor and the food with it. - </p> - <p> - “There!” Neb exclaimed; “you did it.” - </p> - <p> - Then the spectators witnessed a pitiful, even repulsive scene, for the boy - was on the floor, a big bone of ham in his clutch. For a moment nothing - was heard except the snuffling, gulping, crunching sound that issued from - Pete's nose, mouth, and jaws. Then a noise was heard below. It was a sharp - rapping on the outer door. - </p> - <p> - “Sh!” Neb hissed, warmingly; but there was no cessation of the ravenous - eating of the starving negro. Neb cautiously looked out of the window, - allowing only his head to protrude over the windowsill. “Who dar?” he - called out. - </p> - <p> - “Me, Neb; Jim Lincum,” answered the negro below. “You told me ef I heard - any news over my way ter let you know.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh yes,” said Neb. - </p> - <p> - “Folks think Pete done lef de woods, Neb. De mob done scattered ter hunt - all round de country. A gang of 'em was headed dis way at sundown.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, dat so?” Neb said; “well we done gone ter baid, Jim, or I'd open de - do' en let you have er place ter sleep.” - </p> - <p> - “Don't want no place ter sleep, Neb,” was the answer, in a half-humorous - tone. “Don't want ter sleep nowhar 'cep' on my laigs sech times as dese. - Er crowd er white men tried ter nab me while I was in my cotton-patch at - work dis mawnin' but I made myse'f scarce. Dey hot en heavy after Sam - Dudlow; some think he had er hand in de killin'. Dey cayn't find dat - nigger, dough.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, good-night, Jim. I got ter git some rest,” and Neb drew his head - back and lowered the window-sash. - </p> - <p> - “Jim's all right,” he said, “but I couldn't tek 'im in here. Dem men may - 'a' been followin' 'im on de sly.” - </p> - <p> - He advanced to the middle of the room and stood over the crouching figure - still noisily eating on the floor. - </p> - <p> - “Pete, Brother Hardcastle got suppin ter 'pose ter you, en we 'ain't got - any too much time. We goin' ter tell you 'bout it an leave it ter you. One - thing certain, you ain't safe hidin' out like you is, en nobody ain't safe - dat he'ps hide you, so I say suppin got ter be done in yo' case.” - </p> - <p> - “I want y'all ter sen' fer Marse Carson,” Pete mumbled, between his gulps. - “He kin fix me ef anybody kin.” - </p> - <p> - “That's what we were about to propose, Pete,” said the preacher. “You see—” - </p> - <p> - “Sh!” It was Neb's warning hiss again. All was silence in the room; even - Pete paused to listen. It was the low drone of human voices, and many in - number, immediately below. A light from a suddenly exposed lantern flashed - 'on the walls. Neb approached the window, but afraid even cautiously to - raise the sash, he stood breathless. Then through his closed teeth came - the words: “We are caught; gen'men, we in fer it certain en sho! Dey done - tracked us down!” - </p> - <p> - There was a loud rapping on the door below, a stifled scream from Neb's - wife at the foot of the stairs, and then a sharp, commanding voice sounded - outside. - </p> - <p> - “Open up, Neb Wynn!” it said. “We are onto your game. Some devilment is in - the wind and we are going to know what it is.” - </p> - <p> - Neb suddenly and boldly threw up the sash and looked out. “All right, - gen'men, don't bre'k my new lock. I'll be down dar in er minute.” Then - quickly turning to Pete, he bent and drew him up. “Mak' er bre'k fer dat - winder back dar, slide down de shed-roof, en run fer yo' life. Run!” - </p> - <p> - There was a great clatter of chairs and feet in the group of men, a - crashing of a thin window-sash in the rear, a heavy, thumping sound on a - roof outside, and a loud shout from lusty throats below. - </p> - <p> - “There he goes! Catch 'im! Head 'im off! Shoot 'im!” - </p> - <p> - Then darkness, chaos, and terror reigned. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XIX. - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0021" id="linkimage-0021"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9175.jpg" alt="9175 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9175.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - HILE these things were being enacted, Sanders, who had taken supper at - Warren's, and Helen sat on the front veranda in the moonlight. Scarcely - any other topic than Mam' Linda's trouble had been broached between them, - though the ardent visitor had made many futile efforts to draw the girl's - thought into more cheerful channels. It was shortly after ten o'clock, and - Sanders was about to take his leave, when old Lewis emerged from the - shadows of the house and was shambling along the walk towards the gate - leading into the Dwight grounds, when Helen called out to him: “Where are - you going, Uncle Lewis?” - </p> - <p> - He doffed his old slouch hat and stood bare and, bald, his smooth pate - gleaming in the moonlight. - </p> - <p> - “I started over ter see Marse Carson, missy,” he said, in a low, husky - voice. “I knows good en well dat he can't do a thing, but Linda's been - beggin' me ever since she seed him en Mr. Garner drive up at de back gate. - She thinks maybe dey l'arnt suppin 'bout Pete. I knows dey hain't, - honey, 'ca'se dey ud 'a' been over 'fo' dis. Dar he is on de veranda now—oh, - Marse Carson! Kin I see you er minute, suh?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I'll be right down, Lewis,” Carson answered, leaning over the - railing. - </p> - <p> - As he came out of the house and approached across the grass, Sanders and - Helen went to meet him. He bowed to Helen and nodded coldly to Sanders, to - whom he had barely been introduced, and then with a furrowed brow he stood - and listened as the old man humbly made his wants known. - </p> - <p> - “I'm sorry to say I haven't heard a thing, Uncle Lewis,” he said. “I'd - have been right over to see Mam' Linda if I had. So far as I can see, - everything is just the same.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, young marster, I don't know what I'm ergoin' ter do,” the old negro - groaned. “I don't see how Linda's gwine ter pass thoo another night. She's - burnin' at de stake, Marse Carson, but thoo it all she blesses you, suh, - fer tryin' so hard. My Gawd, dar she come now; she couldn't wait.” - </p> - <p> - He hastened across the grass to where the old woman stood, and caught hold - of her arm. - </p> - <p> - “Whar Marse Carson? Whar young marster?” Linda cried, and then, catching - sight of the trio, she tottered unaided towards them. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, young marster, I can't stan' it; I des <i>can't!</i>” she groaned, as - she caught Dwight's hand and clung to it. “I am a mother ef I <i>am</i> - black, an' dat my onliest child. My onliest child, young marster, en de - po' boy is 'way over in dem mountains starvin' ter death wid dem men en - dogs on his track. Oh, young marster, ol' Mammy Lindy is cert'nly crushed. - Ef I could see Pete in his coffin I could put up wid it, but dis here—dis - here”—she struck her great breast with her hand—“dis awful - pain! I can't stan' it—I des can't!” - </p> - <p> - Carson lowered his head. There was a look of profound and tortured - sympathy on his strong face. Garner came out of the house smoking a cigar - and strolled across the grass towards them, but observing the situation he - paused at a flowering rose-bush and stood looking down the moonlit street - towards the court-house and grounds dimly outlined in the distance. Garner - had never been considered very emotional; no one had ever detected any - indications of surprise or sorrow in his face. He simply stood there - to-night avoiding contact with the inevitable. As a criminal lawyer he had - been obliged to inure himself to exhibitions of mental suffering as a - physician inures himself to the presence of physical pain, and yet had - Garner been questioned on the matter, he would have admitted that he - admired Carson Dwight for the abundant possession of the very qualities he - lacked. He positively envied his friend to-night. There was something - almost transcendental in the heart-wrung homage the old woman was paying - Carson. There was something else in the fact that the wonderful tribute to - courage and manliness was being paid there without reservation or stint - before the (and Garner chuckled) very eyes of the woman who had rejected - Carson's love, and in the very presence of the masculine incongruity (as - Garner viewed him) by her side. All the display of emotion, <i>per se</i>, - had no claims on Garner's interest, but the sheer, magnificent play of it, - and its palpable clutch on things of the past and possible events of the - future, held him as would the unfolding evidence in an important law case. - </p> - <p> - “But oh, young marster,” old Linda was saying; “thoo it all you been my - stay en comfort; not even God's been as good ter me as you have; you tried - ter he'p po' ol' Lindy, but de Lawd on high done deserted her. Dar ain't - no just, reasonable God dat will treat er po' old black 'oman es I'm - treated, honey. In slavery en out I've done de best—de very best I - could fer white en black, en now as I stan' here, after er long life, wid - my feet in de grave, I don't deserve ter be punished wid dis slow fire. Go - ter de white 'omen er dis here big Newnited States en ax' 'em how dey - would feel in my fix. Ef de mothers in dis worl' could see me ter-night en - read down in my heart, er river of tears would flow fer me. Dat so, en' - yet de God I've prayed ter-night en mornin', in slavery en out, has turned - His back on me. I've prayed, young marster, till my throat is sore, till - now I hain't got no strength nor faith lef' in me, en—well, here I - stand. You all see me.” Without a word, his face wrung with pain, Carson - clasped her hand, and bowing to Helen and her companion he moved away and - joined Garner. - </p> - <p> - “It was high time you were getting out of that,” Garner said, as he pulled - at his cigar and drew his friend back towards the house. “You can do - nothing, and letting Linda run on that way only works her up to greater - excitement. But say, old man, what's the matter with you?” - </p> - <p> - Carson was white, and the arm Garner had taken was trembling. - </p> - <p> - “I don't know, Garner, but I simply can't stand anything like that,” - Dwight said, his eyes on the group they had left. “It actually makes me - sick. I—I can't stand it. Good-night, Garner; if you won't sleep - here with me, I'll turn in. I—I—” - </p> - <p> - “Hush! what's that?” Garner interrupted, his ear bent towards the centre - of the town. - </p> - <p> - It was a loud and increasing outcry from the direction of Neb Wynn's - house. Several reports of revolvers were heard, and screams and shouts: - “Head 'im off! Shoot 'im! There he goes!” - </p> - <p> - “Great God!” Garner cried, excitedly; “do you suppose it is—” - </p> - <p> - He did not finish, for Carson had raised his hand to check him and stood - staring through the moonlight in the direction from which the sounds were - coming. There were now audible the rapid and heavy foot-falls of many - runners. On they came, the sound increasing as they drew nearer. They were - only a few blocks distant now. Carson cast a hurried glance towards the - Warren house. There, leaning on the fence, supported by Helen and Lewis, - stood Linda, silent, motionless, open-mouthed. Sanders stood alone, not - far away. On came the rushing throng. They were turning the nearest - corner. Somebody, or something, was in the lead. Was it a man, an animal, - a mad dog, a—— - </p> - <p> - On it came forming the point of a human triangle. It was a man, but a man - doubled to the earth by. fatigue and weakness, a man who ran as if on the - point of sprawling at every desperate leap forward. His hard breathing now - fell on Carson's ears. - </p> - <p> - “It's Pete!” he said, simply. - </p> - <p> - Garner laid a firm hand on his friend's arm. - </p> - <p> - “Now's the time for you to have common-sense,” he said. “Remember, you - have lost all you care for by this thing—don't throw your very life - into the damned mess. By God, you <i>sha'n't!</i> I'll—” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, Marse Carson, it's Pete!” It was Linda's voice, and it rang out high, - shrill, and pleading above the roar and din. “Save 'im! Save 'im!” - </p> - <p> - Dwight wrenched his arm from the tense clutch of Garner and dashed through - the gate, and was out in the street just as the negro reached him and - stretched out his arms in breathless appeal and fell sprawling at his - feet. The fugitive remained there on his knees, his hands clutching the - young man's legs, while the mob gathered round. - </p> - <p> - “He's the one!” a hoarse voice exclaimed. “Kill 'im! Burn the black - fiend!” - </p> - <p> - Standing pinioned to the ground by Pete's terrified clutch, Carson raised - his hands above his head. “Stop! Stop! Stop!” he kept crying, as the crowd - swayed him back and forth in their effort to lay hold of the fugitive who - was clinging to his master with the desperate clutch of a drowning man. - </p> - <p> - “Stop! Listen!” Carson kept shouting, till those nearest him became - calmer, and forming a determined ring, pressed the outer ones back. - </p> - <p> - “Well, listen!” these nearest cried. “See what he's got to say. It's - Carson Dwight. Listen! He won't take up for him; he's a white man. He - won't defend a black devil that—” - </p> - <p> - “I believe this boy is innocent!” Carson's voice rang out, “and I plead - with you as men and fellow-citizens to give me a chance to prove it to - your fullest satisfaction. I'll stake my life on what I say. Some of you - know me, and will believe me when I say I'll put up every cent I have, - everything I hold dear on earth, if you will only give me the chance.” - </p> - <p> - A fierce cry of opposition rose in the outskirts of the throng, and it - passed from lip to lip till the storm was at its height again. Then Garner - did what surprised Carson as much as anything he had ever seen from that - man of mystery. - </p> - <p> - “Stop! Listen!” Garner thundered, in tones of such command that they - seemed to sweep all other sounds out of the tumult. “Let's hear what he's - got to say. It can do no harm! Listen, boys!” - </p> - <p> - The trick worked. Not three men in the excited mob associated the voice or - personality with the friend and partner of the man demanding their - attention. The tumult subsided; it fell away till only the low, whimpering - groans of the frightened fugitive were heard. There was a granite - mounting-block on the edge of the sidewalk, and feeling it behind him: - Carson stood upon it, his hands on the woolly pate of the negro still - crouching at his feet. As he did so, his swift glance took in many things - about him: he saw Linda at the fence, her head bowed upon her arms as if - to shut out from her sight the awful scene; near her stood Lewis, Helen, - and Sanders, their expectant gaze upon him; at the window of his mother's - room he saw the invalid clearly outlined against the lamplight behind her. - Never had Carson Dwight put so much of his young, sympathetic soul into - words. His eloquence streamed from him like a swollen torrent of logic. On - the still night air his voice rose clear, firm, confident. It was no call - to them to be merciful to the boy's mother bowed there like a thing cut - from stone, for passion like theirs would have been inflamed by such - advice, considering that the fugitive was charged with having slain a - woman. But it was a calm call to patriotism. Carson Dwight plead with them - to let their temperate action that night say to all the world that the day - of unbridled lawlessness in the fair Southland was at an end. Law and - order on the part of itself was the South's only solution of the problem - laid like another unjust burden on a sorely tried and suffering people. - </p> - <p> - “Good, good! That's the stuff!” It was the raised voice of the adroit - Garner, under his broad-brimmed hat in the edge of the crowd. “Listen, - neighbors; let him go on!” - </p> - <p> - There was a fluttering suggestion of acquiescence in the stillness that - followed Garner's words. But other obstacles were to arise. A clatter of - galloping horses was heard round the corner on the nearest side street, - and three men, evidently mountaineers, rode madly up. They reined in their - panting, snorting mounts. - </p> - <p> - “What's the matter?” one of them asked, with an oath. “What are you - waiting for? That's the damned black devil.” - </p> - <p> - “They are waiting, like reasonable human beings, to give this man a chance - to establish his innocence,” Carson cried, firmly. - </p> - <p> - “They are, damn you, are they?” the same voice retorted. There was a - pause; the horseman raised his arm; a revolver gleamed in the moonlight; - there was a flash and a report. The crowd saw Carson Dwight suddenly lean - to one side and raise his hands to the side of his head. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0022" id="linkimage-0022"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0183.jpg" alt="0183 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0183.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - “My God, he's shot!” Garner called out. “Who fired that gun?” - </p> - <p> - For an instant horrified silence reigned; Carson still stood pressing his - hands to his temple. - </p> - <p> - No one spoke; the three restive horses were rearing and prancing about in - excitement. Garner made his way through the crowd, elbowing them right and - left, till he stood near the fugitive and his defender. - </p> - <p> - “A good white man has been shot,” he cried out—“shot by a man on one - of those horses. Be calm. This is a serious business.” - </p> - <p> - But Carson, with his left hand pressed to his temple, now stood erect. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, some coward back there shot me,” he said, boldly, “but I don't think - I am seriously wounded. He may fire on me again, as a dirty coward will do - on a defenceless man, but as I stand here daring him to try it again I - plead with you, my friends, to let me put this boy into jail. Many of you - know me, and know I'll keep my word when I promise to move heaven and - earth to give him a fair and just trial for the crime of which he is - accused.” - </p> - <p> - “Bully for you, Dwight! My God, he's got grit!” a voice cried. “Let him - have his way, boys. The sheriff is back there. Heigh, Jeff Braider, come - to the front! You are wanted!” - </p> - <p> - “Is the sheriff back there?” Carson asked, calmly, in the strange silence - that had suddenly fallen. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, here I am.” Braider was threading his way towards him through the - crowd. “I was trying to spot the man that fired that shot, but he's gone.” - </p> - <p> - “You bet he's gone!” cried one of the two remaining horsemen, and, - accompanied by the other, he turned and, they galloped away. This seemed a - final signal to the crowd to acquiesce in the plan proposed, and they - stood voiceless and still, their rage strangely spent, while Braider took - the limp and cowering prisoner by the arm and drew him down from the - block. Pete, only half comprehending, was whimpering piteously and - clinging to Dwight. - </p> - <p> - “It's all right, Pete,” Carson said. “Come on, we'll lock you up in the - jail where you'll be safe.” Between Carson and the sheriff, followed by - Garner, Pete was the centre of the jostling throng as they moved off - towards the jail. - </p> - <p> - “What dey gwine ter do, honey?” old Linda asked, finding her voice for the - first time, as she leaned towards her young mistress. - </p> - <p> - “Put him in jail where he'll be safe,” Helen said. “It's all over now, - mammy.” - </p> - <p> - “Thank God, thank God!” Linda cried, fervently. “I knowed Marse Carson - wouldn't let 'em kill my boy—I knowed it—I knowed it!” - </p> - <p> - “But didn't somebody say Marse Carson was shot, honey?” old Lewis asked. - “Seem ter me like I done heard—” - </p> - <p> - Pale and motionless, Helen stood staring after the departing crowd, now - almost out of view. Carson Dwight's thrilling words still rang in her - ears. He had torn her very heart from her breast and held it in his hands - while speaking. He had stood there like a God among mere men, pleading as - she would have pleaded for that simple human life, and they had listened; - they had been swept from their mad purpose by the fearless sincerity and - conviction of his young soul. They had shot at him while he stood a target - for their uncurbed passion, and even then he had dared to taunt them with - cowardice as he continued his appeal. - </p> - <p> - “Daughter, daughter!” her father on the upper floor of the veranda was - calling down to her. - </p> - <p> - “What is it, father?” she asked. - </p> - <p> - “Do you know if Carson was hurt?” the Major asked, anxiously. “You know he - said he wasn't, but it would be like him to pretend so, even if he were - wounded. It may be only the excitement that is keeping him up, and the - poor boy may be seriously injured.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, father, do you think—?” Helen's heart sank; a sensation like - nausea came over her, and she reeled and almost fell. Sanders, a queer, - white look on his face, caught hold of her arm and supported her to a seat - on the veranda. She raised her eyes to the face of her escort as she sank - into a chair. “Do you think—did he look like he was wounded?” - </p> - <p> - “I could not make out,” Sanders answered, solicitously, and yet his lip - was drawn tight and he stood quite erect. “I—I thought he was at - first, but later when he continued to speak I fancied I was mistaken.” - </p> - <p> - “He put his hands to his temple,” Helen said, “and almost fell. I saw him - steady himself, and then he really seemed stunned for a moment.” - </p> - <p> - Sanders was silent. “I remember her aunt said,” he reflected, in grim - misery, his brows drawn together, “that she once had a sweetheart up here. - <i>Is this the man?</i>” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XX - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0023" id="linkimage-0023"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9188.jpg" alt="9188 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9188.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - EN minutes later, while they still sat on the veranda waiting for Carson's - return, they saw Dr. Stone, the Dwights' family physician, alight from his - horse at the hitching-post nearby. - </p> - <p> - “I wonder what that means?” the Major asked. “He must have been sent for - on Carson's account and thinks he is at home. Speak to him, Lewis.” - </p> - <p> - Hearing his name called, Dr. Stone approached, his medicine-case in hand. - </p> - <p> - “Were you looking for Carson?” Major Warren asked. - </p> - <p> - “Why, no,” answered the doctor, in surprise; “they said Mrs. Dwight was - badly shocked. Was Carson really hurt?” - </p> - <p> - “We were trying to find out,” said the Major. “He went on to the jail with - the sheriff, determined to see Pete protected.” - </p> - <p> - There was a sound of an opening door and old Dwight came out to the fence, - hatless, coatless, and pale. “Come right in, doctor,” he said, grimly. - “There's no time to lose.” - </p> - <p> - “Is it as bad as that?” Stone asked. - </p> - <p> - “She's dying, if I'm any judge,” was the answer. “She was standing at the - window and heard that pistol-shot and saw Carson was hit. She fell flat on - the floor. We've done everything, but she's still unconscious.” - </p> - <p> - The two men went hastily into the room where Mrs. Dwight lay, and they - were barely out of sight when Helen noticed some one rapidly approaching - from the direction of the jail. It was Keith Gordon, and as he entered the - gate he laid his hand on Linda's shoulder and said, cheerily, “Don't worry - now; Pete is safe and the mob is dispersing.” - </p> - <p> - “But Carson,” Major Warren asked; “was he hurt?” - </p> - <p> - “We don't exactly know yet.” Keith was now at Helen's side, looking into - her wide-open, anxious eyes. “He wouldn't stop a second to be examined. He - was afraid something might occur to alter the temper of the mob and wasn't - going to run any risks. The crowd, fortunately for Pete, was made up - mostly of towns-people. One man from the mountains, a blood relative of - the Johnsons, could have kindled the blaze again with a word, and Carson - knew it. He was more worried about his mother than anything else. She was - at the window and he saw her fall; he urged me to hurry back to tell her - he was all right. I'll go in.” - </p> - <p> - But he was detained by the sound of voices down the street. It was a group - of half a dozen men, and in their midst was Carson Dwight, violently - protesting against being supported. - </p> - <p> - “I tell you I'm all right!” Helen heard him saying. “I'm not a baby, - Garner; let me alone!” - </p> - <p> - “But you are bleeding like a stuck pig,” Garner said. “Your handkerchief - is literally soaked. And look at your shirt!” - </p> - <p> - “It's only skin-deep,” Carson cried. “I was stunned for a moment when it - hit me, that's all.” Helen, followed by her father and Sanders, advanced - hurriedly to meet the approaching group. They gave way as she drew near, - and she and Dwight faced each other. - </p> - <p> - “The doctor is in the house, Carson,” she said, tenderly; “go in and let - him examine your wound.” - </p> - <p> - “It's only a scratch, Helen, I give you my word,” he laughed, lightly. “I - never saw such a squeamish set of men in my life. Even stolid old Bill - Garner has had seven duck fits at the sight of my red handkerchief. How's - my mother?” - </p> - <p> - Helen's eyes fell. “Your father says he is afraid it is quite serious,” - she said. “The doctor is with her; she was unconscious.” - </p> - <p> - They saw Carson wince; his face became suddenly rigid. He sighed. “It may - not be so well after all. Pete is safe for awhile, but if she—if my - mother were to—” He went no further, simply staring blankly into - Helen's face. Suddenly she put her hand up to his blood-stained temple and - gently drew aside the matted hair. Their eyes met and clung together. - </p> - <p> - “You must let Dr. Stone dress this at once,” she said, more gently, - Sanders thought, than he had ever heard a woman speak in all his life. He - turned aside; there was something in the contact of the two that at once - maddened him and drew him down to despair. He had dared to hope that she - would consent to become his wife, and yet the man to whom she was so - gently ministering had once been her lover. Yes, that was the man. He was - sure of it now. Dwight's attitude, tone of voice, and glance of the eye - were evidence enough. Besides, Sanders asked himself, where was the living - man who could know Helen Warren and not be her slave forever afterwards? - </p> - <p> - “Well, I'll go right in,” Carson said, gloomily. He and Keith and Garner - were passing through the gate when Linda called to him as she came hastily - forward, but Keith and Garner were talking and Carson did not hear the old - woman's voice. Helen met her and paused. “Let him alone to-night, mammy,” - she said, almost bitterly, it seemed to Sanders, who was peering into new - depths of her character. “<i>Your</i> boy is safe, but Carson is wounded—<i>wounded</i>, - I tell you, and his mother may be dying. Let him alone for to-night, - anyway.” - </p> - <p> - “All right, honey,” the old woman said; “but I'm gwine ter stay here till - de doctor comes out en ax 'im how dey bofe is. My heart is full ter-night, - honey. Seem 'most like God done listen ter my prayers after all.” - </p> - <p> - Sanders lingered with the pale, deeply distraught young lady on the - veranda till Keith came out of the house, passed through the gate, and - strode across the grass towards them. - </p> - <p> - “They are both all right, thank God!” he announced. “The doctor says Mrs. - Dwight has had a frightful shock but will pull through. Carson was right; - his wound was only a scratch caused by the grazing bullet. But God knows - it was a close call, and I think there is but one man in the State low - enough to have fired the shot.” - </p> - <p> - When Keith and Sanders had left her, Helen went with dragging, listless - feet up the stairs to her room. - </p> - <p> - Lighting her lamp, she stood looking at her image in the mirror on her - bureau. How strangely drawn and grave her features appeared! It seemed to - her that she looked older and more serious than she had ever looked in her - life. - </p> - <p> - Dropping her glance to her hands, she noted something that sent a thrill - through her from head to foot. It was a purple smudge left on her fingers - by their contact with Carson Dwight's wound. Stepping across to her - wash-stand, she poured some water into the basin, and was on the point of - removing the stain when she paused and impulsively raised it towards her - lips. She stopped again, and stood with her hand poised in mid-air. Then a - thought flashed into her brain. She was recalling the contents of the - fatal letter of Carson's to her poor brother; the hot blood surged over - her. She shuddered, dipped her hands, and began to lave them in the - cooling water. Carson was noble; he was brave; he had a great and - beautiful soul, and yet he had written that letter to her dead brother. - Yes, she had openly encouraged Sanders, and she must be honorable. At any - rate, he was a good, clean man and his happiness was at stake. Yes, she - supposed she would finally marry him. She would marry him. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXI. - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0024" id="linkimage-0024"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9193.jpg" alt="9193 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9193.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - ARSON was slightly weakened by the loss of blood and the unusual tax on - his strength, and yet, wearing a strip of sticking-plaster as the only - sign of his wound, he was at the office betimes the next morning, anxious - to make an early start into the arrangements for a hurried preliminary - trial of his client. Garner, as, was that worthy's habit when kept up late - at night, was still asleep in the den when Helen called. - </p> - <p> - Carson was at his desk, bending over a law-book, his pipe in his mouth, - when, looking up, he saw her standing in the doorway and rose instantly, a - flush of gratification on his face. - </p> - <p> - “I've come to see you about poor Pete,” she began, her pale face taking on - color as if from the heat of his own. “I know it's early, but I couldn't - wait. Mam' Linda was in my room this morning at the break of day, sitting - by my bed rocking back and forth and moaning.” - </p> - <p> - “She's uneasy, of course,” Carson said. “That's only natural of a mother - placed as she is.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh yes,” Helen answered, with a sigh. “She was thoroughly happy last - night over his rescue, but now you see she's got something else to worry - about. She now wonders if he will be allowed a fair trial.” - </p> - <p> - “The boy must have that,” Carson said, and then his face clouded over and - he held himself more erect as he glanced past her out at the door. “Is Mr. - Sanders—did he come with you? You see, I met him on the way to your - house as I came down.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, he's there talking over the trouble with my father,” Helen made - rather awkward answer. “He came in to breakfast, but—but I wasn't at - the table. I was with Mam' Linda.” And thereupon Helen blushed more deeply - over the reflection that these last words might sound like intentional and - even presumptuous balm to the sensitiveness of a rejected suitor. - </p> - <p> - “I was afraid he might be waiting on the outside,” Carson said, awkwardly. - “I want to show hospitality to a stranger in town, you know, but somehow I - can't exactly do my full duty in his case.” - </p> - <p> - “You are not expected to,” and Helen had tripped again, as her fresh color - proved. “I mean, Carson—” But she could go no further. - </p> - <p> - “Well, I am unequal to it, anyway,” Carson replied, with tightening lips - and a steady, honest stare. “I don't dislike him personally. I hold no - actual grudge against him. From all I've heard of him he is worthy of any - woman's love and deepest respect. I'm simply off the committee of - entertainment during his stay.” - </p> - <p> - “I—I—didn't come down to talk about Mr. Sanders,” Helen found - herself saying, as the shortest road from the trying subject. “It seems to - me you ought to hate me. I have, I know, through my concern over Pete, - caused you endless trouble and loss of political influence. Last night you - did what no other man would or could have done. Oh, it was so brave, so - noble, so glorious! I laid awake nearly all night thinking about it. Your - wonderful speech rang over and over in my ears. I was too excited to cry - while it was actually going on, but I shed tears of joy when I thought it - all over afterwards.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, that wasn't anything!” Dwight said, forcing a light tone, though his - flush had died out. “I knew you and Linda wanted the boy saved, and it - wasn't anything. I ran no risk. It was only fun—a game of football - with a human pigskin snatched here and there by a frenzied mob of players. - When it fell of its own accord at my feet, and I had laid hands on it, I - would have put it over the line or died trying, especially when you and - Sanders—who has beaten me in a grander game—stood looking on. - Oh, I'm only natural! I wanted to win because—first, because it was - your wish, and—because <i>that man was there.</i>” - </p> - <p> - Helen's glance fell to the ragged carpet which, clogged with the dried mud - of a recent rain, stretched from her feet to the door. Then she looked - helplessly round the room at the dusty, open bookshelves, Garner's - disreputable desk strewn with pamphlets, printed forms of notes and - mortgages, cigar-stubs, and old letters. Her eyes rested longer on the - dingy, small-paned windows to which the cobwebs clung. - </p> - <p> - “You always bring up his name,” she said, almost resentfully. “Is it - really quite fair to him?” - </p> - <p> - “No, it isn't,” he admitted, quickly. “And from this moment that sort of - banter is at an end. Now, what can I do for you? You came to speak about - Pete.” - </p> - <p> - She hesitated for a moment. It was almost as if, after all she had said, - that if the subject was to be dropped, hers, not his, should be the final - word. - </p> - <p> - “I came to tell you that Mam' Linda and I have just left the jail. She was - so wrought up and weak that I made Uncle Lewis take her home in a buggy. - He says she didn't close her eyes all last night and this morning refused - to touch her breakfast. Then the sight of Pete in his awful condition - completely unnerved her. Did you get a good look at him last night, Carson—I - mean in the light?” - </p> - <p> - “No.” Dwight shrugged his broad shoulders. “But he looked bad enough as it - was.” - </p> - <p> - “The sight made me ill,” Helen said. “The jailer let us go into the narrow - passage and we saw him through the bars of the cell. I would never have - known him in the world. His clothing was all in shreds and his face and - arms were gashed and tom, his feet bare and bleeding. Poor mammy simply - stood peering through at him and crying, 'My boy, my baby, my baby!' - Carson, I firmly believe he is innocent.” - </p> - <p> - “So do I,” Dwight made prompt answer. “That is, I am reasonably sure of - it. I shall know <i>positively</i> when I talk to him to-day.” - </p> - <p> - “Then you will secure his liberty, won't you?” Helen asked, eagerly. “I - promised mammy I'd talk to you and bring her a report of what you said.” - </p> - <p> - “I am going to do everything in my power,” Dwight said; “but I don't want - to raise false hopes only to disappoint you and Linda all the more later.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, Carson, tell me what you mean. You don't seem sure of the outcome.” - </p> - <p> - “You must try to look-at the thing bravely, Helen,” Dwight said, firmly. - “There is more in it than an inexperienced girl like you could imagine. I - think we can arrange for a trial to-morrow, but it seems often that it is - while such trials are in progress that the people become most wrought up; - and then, you know, to-day and to-night must pass, and—” He broke - off, avoiding her earnest stare of inquiry. - </p> - <p> - “Go on, Carson, you can trust me, if I <i>am</i> only a girl.” - </p> - <p> - “To tell you the truth,” Dwight complied, “it is the next twenty-four - hours that I dread most. That mob last night, it seems, was made up for - the most part of men here in town, workers in the factories and - iron-foundries—many of whom know me personally and have faith in my - promises. If it were left with them I'd have little to fear, but it is the - immediate neighbors of the dead man and woman, the members of the gang of - White Caps who whipped Pete and feel themselves personally affronted by - what they believe to be his crime—they are the men, Helen, from whom - I fear trouble.” - </p> - <p> - Helen was pale and her hands trembled, though she strove bravely to be - calm. - </p> - <p> - “You still fear that they may rise and come—and—take—him—out—of—jail? - Oh!” She clasped her hands tightly and stood facing him, a look of terror - growing in her beautiful eyes. “And can't something be done? Mr. Sanders - spoke this morning of telegraphing the Governor to send troops to guard - the jail.” - </p> - <p> - “Ah, that's it!” said Carson, grimly. “But who is to take that - responsibility on himself. I can't, Helen. It might be the gravest, most - horrible mistake a man ever made, one that would haunt him to his very - grave. The Governor, not understanding the pulse of the people here, might - take the word of some one on the spot. Garner and I know him pretty well. - We've been of political service to him personally, and he would do all he - could if we telegraphed him, but—we couldn't do it. By the stroke of - our pen we might make orphans of the children of scores of honest white - men, and widows of their wives, for the bayonets and shot of a regiment of - soldiers would not deter such men from what they regard as sacred duty to - their families and homes. If the Governor's troops did military duty, they - would have to hew down human beings like wheat before a scythe. The very - sight of their uniforms would be like a red rag to a mad bull. It would be - a calamity such as has never taken place in the State. I can't have a hand - in that, Helen, and not another thinking man in the South would. I love - the men of the mountains too well. They are turning against me politically - because we differ somewhat, but I simply can't see them shot like rabbits - in a net. Pete is, after all, only <i>one</i>—they are many, and - they are conscientiously acting according to their lights. The machinery - of modern law moves too slowly for them. They have seen crime triumphant - too often to trust to any verdict other than that reached from their own - reasoning.” - </p> - <p> - “I see; I see!” Helen cried, her face blanched. “I don't blame you, - Carson, but poor mammy; what can I say to her?” - </p> - <p> - “Do your best to pacify and encourage her,” Dwight answered, “and we'll - hope for the best.” - </p> - <p> - He stood in the doorway and watched her as she walked off down the little - street. “Poor, dear girl!” he mused. “I had to tell her the truth. She's - too brave and strong to be treated like a child.” - </p> - <p> - He turned back to his desk and sat down. There was a deep frown on his - face. “I came within an inch of losing my grip on myself,” his thoughts - ran on. “Another moment and I'd have let her know how I am suffering. She - must never know that—never!” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXII - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0025" id="linkimage-0025"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9200.jpg" alt="9200 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9200.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - ALF an hour later Garner came in. He walked about the room, a half smile - on his face, sniffing the air as if with unctuous delight, casting now and - then an amused glance at his inattentive partner. - </p> - <p> - “What do you mean? What are you up to now?” Carson asked, slightly - irritated over having his thoughts disturbed. - </p> - <p> - “She's been here,” Garner answered. “She told me so just now, and I want - to inhale the heavenly perfume she left in this disreputable hole. Good - Lord, you don't mean that you let her see those rotten slippers of mine! - If you'd been half a friend you'd have kicked them out of sight, but you - didn't care; you've got on a clean collar and necktie, and that plaster on - your alabaster brow would admit you to the highest realm of the elect—provided - the door-keeper was a woman and knew how you got your ticket. Huh! I - really don't know what will become of me if I associate with you much - longer. Your conduct last night upset me. I turned in to bed about two - o'clock. Bob Smith was doing night-work at the hotel, and he came in and - had to be told the whole thing; and he'd no sooner got to bed than Keith - came in, and Bob had to hear <i>his</i> version. I had a corking dime - novel, but it was too tame after the racket you went through. The <i>Red - Avenger</i> I was trying to get interested in couldn't hold a candle, even - in his bareback ride strapped to a wild mustang in a mad dash across a - burning prairie, to your horse-block rescue act. What <i>you</i> did was - <i>new</i>, and I was <i>there</i>. The burning prairie business has been - overdone and the love interest in the <i>Red Avenger</i> was weak, while - yours—<i>well!</i>” - </p> - <p> - Garner sat down in his creaking revolving-chair and thrust his thumbs into - the arm-holes of his vest. - </p> - <p> - “Mine?” Carson said, coldly. “I don't exactly see your point.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, the love business was there all the same,” Garner laughed, - significantly; “for, thrilling as it all was, I had an eye to that. I - couldn't keep from wondering how I'd have felt if I'd been in your place - and had your chances.” - </p> - <p> - “<i>My</i> chances!” Dwight frowned. It was plain that he did not like - Garner's bold encroachments on his natural reserve. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, your chances, dang you!” Garner retorted, with a laugh. “Do you - know, my boy, that as a psychological proposition, the biggest, most - earnest, most credulous-looking ass on earth is the man who comes to a - strange town to do his courting and has nothing to do but that one thing, - at stated hours through the day or evening, while everybody around him is - going about attending to business. I've watched that fellow hanging around - the office of the hotel, kicking his heels together to kill time between - visits, and in spite of all I've heard about his stability and moral worth - I can't respect him. Hang it, if I were in his place and wanted to spend a - week here, I'd peddle cigars on the street—I'd certainly have <i>something</i> - to occupy my spare time. But I'll be flamdoodled if you didn't give him - something to think about last night. Of all things, it strikes me, that - could make a man like that sick—sick as a dog at the very stomach of - his hopes—would be to see a former sweetheart of his fair charmer - standing under shot and shell in front of her ancestral mansion protecting - her servants from a howling mob like that, and later to see the defender, - with the step of a David with a sling, come traipsing back victorious in - her cause, all gummed up with blood and fighting still like hell to keep - his friends from choking him to death in sheer admiration. She and Sanders - may be engaged, but I'll be dadblamed if I wouldn't be worried if I were - in his place.” - </p> - <p> - “I wish you would let up, Garner,” Dwight said, almost angrily. “I know - you mean well, but you don't understand the situation, and I have told you - before that I don't like to talk about it.” - </p> - <p> - “I <i>did</i> want to tell you how it was rubbed in on him this morning,” - Garner said, only half apologetically, “and if you don't care, I'll - finish.” - </p> - <p> - Carson said nothing. Spots of red were on his cheeks, and with a teasing - smile Garner went on: “I had stopped to speak to her on the corner just - now, when the Major and his Highness from Augusta joined us. The old man - was simply bursting with enthusiasm over what you accomplished last night. - According to the Major, you were the highest type of Southerner since - George Washington, and the obtuse old chap kept turning to Sanders for his - confirmation of each and every statement. Sanders was doing it with slow - nods and inarticulate grunts, about as readily as a seasick passenger - specifies items for his dinner, while Helen stood there blushing like a - red rose. Well,” Garner concluded, as he kicked off one of his untied - shoes to put on a slipper, “it may be cold comfort to you, viewed under - the search-light of all the gossip in the air, but your blond rival is so - jealous that the green juice of it is oozing from the pores of his skin.” - </p> - <p> - “It isn't fair to him to look at it as you are,” Dwight said. “Under the - same circumstances he could have taken my place.” - </p> - <p> - “Under the same circumstances, yes,” Garner grinned. “But it is - circumstances that make things what they are in this world, and I tell you - that fellow needs circumstances worse than any man I ever saw. He is - worried. I stopped and watched him as he walked on with her, and I declare - it looked to me like he kicked himself under his long coat at every step. - Say, look! Isn't that Pole Baker across the street? The fellow behind the - gray horse. Yes, that's who it is. I'll call him. He may have news from - the mountains.” - </p> - <p> - Answering the summons, Baker led his horse across the street to where the - two friends stood waiting on the edge of the pavement. - </p> - <p> - “Have they heard of the arrest over there, Pole?” Garner asked. - </p> - <p> - “Yes,” the farmer drawled out. “I was at George Wilson's store this - morning, where a big gang was waiting for food supplies from their homes. - Dan Willis fetched the report—by-the-way, fellows, just between us - three, I'll bet he was the skunk that fired that shot. I'm pretty sure of - it, from what I've picked up from some of his pals.” - </p> - <p> - “But what are they going to do?” Carson asked, anxiously. - </p> - <p> - “That's exactly what I come in town to tell you,” answered the - mountaineer. “They are taking entirely a new tack. A report has leaked out - that Sam Dudlow was seen prowling about Johnson's just 'fore dark the - night of the murder, and they are dead on his track. They are - concentrating their forces to catch him, and, since Pete Warren is safe in - jail, they say they are going to let 'im stay thar awhile anyway.” - </p> - <p> - “Good!” Garner cried, rubbing his hands together. “We've got two chances, - now, my boy—to prove Pete innocent at court or by their catching the - right man. In my opinion, Dudlow is the coon that did the Job, and I - believe he did it alone. Pete is too chicken-hearted and he's been too - well brought up. Now let's get to work. You go talk to the prisoner, - Carson, and put him through that honeyfugling third degree of yours. He'll - confess if he did it, and if he did, may the Lord have mercy on his soul! - I won't help defend him.” - </p> - <p> - “That's whar I stand,” Pole Baker said. “It's enough trouble savin' <i>innocent</i> - niggers these days without bothering over the guilty. Shyster lawyers - tryin' to protect the bad ones for a little fee is at the bottom of all - this lawlessness anyway.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXIII. - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0026" id="linkimage-0026"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9205.jpg" alt="9205 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9205.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - S the prisoner's counsel, Carson had no difficulty in seeing him. At the - outer door of the red brick structure, with its slate roof and dormer - windows, Dwight met Burt Barrett, the jailer, a tall though strong young - man, who had once lived in the mountains and had been a moonshiner, and - was noted for his grim courage in any emergency. - </p> - <p> - “I understand the trial is set for to-morrow,” he remarked, as he opened - the outer door which led into a hallway at the end of which was the - portion of the house in which he lived with his wife and children. - </p> - <p> - “Yes,” Carson replied; “the judge has telegraphed that he will come - without fail.” - </p> - <p> - The jailer shrugged his shoulders and laughed. “I feel a sight better over - it than I did last night. I understand that the mob is going to let us - alone till they can catch Sam Dudlow; if they lay hands on that scamp they - certainly will barbecue 'im alive. As for Pete, I can't make up my mind - about him; he's a trifling nigger and no mistake. He's got a good, - old-time mammy and daddy, and none of Major Warren's niggers have ever - been in the chain-gang, but this boy has talked a lot and been in powerful - bad company. If you can keep him out of the clutch of the mob you may save - his neck, but you've got a job before you.” - </p> - <p> - “I want to ask what you think about putting a guard round the jail,” - Carson said, when they were at the foot of the stairs leading to the cells - on the floor above. - </p> - <p> - “As far as I'm concerned, I hope you won't have it done,” said Barrett. - “To save your neck, you couldn't summon men that wouldn't be prejudiced - agin the nigger, an' if the report went out that we had put a force on at - the jail it would only make the mob madder, and make them act quicker. A - hundred armed citizens wouldn't stop a lynching gang—not a shot - would be fired by white men at white men, so what would be the use?” - </p> - <p> - “That's what the sheriff thinks exactly, Burt,” Carson replied. “I presume - the only thing to do is to treat the arrest as usual. I'm doing all I can - to assure the people that there is to be a fair and speedy trial.” - </p> - <p> - They had reached the top of the stairs and were near Pete's cell, when the - jailer turned and asked, in an undertone, “Are you armed?” - </p> - <p> - “Why, no,” Carson said, in surprise. - </p> - <p> - “Good Lord! I wouldn't advise you to go inside the cell then. I've known - niggers to kill their best friends when they are desperate.” - </p> - <p> - “I'm not afraid of this one,” Dwight laughed. “I must get inside. I want - to know the whole truth, and I can't talk to him through the grating. Is - he in the cell on the right?” - </p> - <p> - “No, the first on the left; it's the only doublebarred one in the jail.” - </p> - <p> - In one corner of the fairly “well lighted room stood a veritable cage, the - sides, top and bottom consisting of heavy steel lattice-work. As the - jailer was unlocking the massive door, Carson peered through one of the - squares and a most pitiful sight met his eye, for at the sound of the key - in the lock Pete, in his tatters and gashed and swollen face, had crouched - down on his dingy blanket and remained there quaking in terror. - </p> - <p> - “Get up!” the jailer ordered, in a not unkindly tone; “it's Carson Dwight - to see you.” - </p> - <p> - At this the negro's face lighted up, his eyes blazed in the sudden flare - of relief, and he rose quickly. “Oh, Marse Carson, I was afeared—” - </p> - <p> - “Lock us in,” Dwight said to the jailer; “when I'm through I'll call you.” - </p> - <p> - “All right, you know him better than I do,” Barrett said. “I'll wait - below.” - </p> - <p> - “Pete,” Carson said, gently, when they were alone, “your mother says she - wants me to defend you under the charge brought against you. Do you wish - it, too?” - </p> - <p> - “Yasser, Marse Carson; but, Marse Carson, I don't know no mo' about dat - thing dan you do. 'Fo' God, Marse Carson, I'm telling you de trufe. Lawsy, - Marse Carson, you kin git me out o' here ef you'll des tell 'em ter let me - go. Dey all know you, Marse Carson, en dey know none er yo' kind er black - folks ain't er gwine ter do er nasty thing lak dat. Look how dey did las' - night! Shucks! dey wouldn't er lef' enough o' my haar fer er - hummin'-bird's nest, ef I hadn't got ter you in de nick er time. Dat pack - er howlin' rapscallions was tryin' ter tear me ter mince-meat when you - fired off dat big speech en made 'em all feel lak crawlin' in holes. You - tell 'em, Marse Carson—you tell de jailer ter le' me out. Dat man - know you ain't no fool; he know you is de biggest lawyer in de Souf. Ain't - I heard old marster say you gwine up, en up, en up, till you set in de - jedge's seat in de cote? Las' night, when you 'gun on 'em, en let out dat - way, I knowed I was safe, but I don't see what yo'-all waitin' fer; I want - ter go home ter mammy, Marse Carson. Look lak she been sick, en she cried - en tuck on here, en so did young miss. Marse Carson, <i>what's de matter - wid me?</i> What I done? I ain't er bad nigger. Unc' Richmond, on de farm, - toi' me 'twas' ca'se I made threats ergin dat white man 'ca'se he whipped - me. I did talk er lot, Marse Carson, but I never meant no harm. I was des - er li'l mad, en—” - </p> - <p> - “Stop, Pete!” There was a crude wooden stool in the cell and Carson sat - down on it. His heart was overflowing with pity for the simple, trusting - creature before him as he went on gently and yet firmly: “You don't - realize it, Pete, but you are in the most dangerous position you were ever - in. I am powerless to release you. You'll have to be taken to court and - seriously tried by law for the crime of which you are charged. Pete, I'm - going to defend you, but I can't do a thing for you unless you tell me the - whole truth. If you did this thing you must tell me—<i>me</i>, do - you understand. We are alone. No one can hear you, and if you confess it - to me it will go no further. Do you understand?” - </p> - <p> - Dwight's glance was fixed on the floor. To this point he had steeled - himself against a too impulsive faith in the negro's words that he might - logically satisfy himself beyond any doubt as to the innocence or guilt of - his client. There was silence. He dared not look into the gashed face - before him, dreading to read what might be written there by the quivering - hand of self-condemnation. The sheer length of the ensuing pause sent cold - darts of fear through him. He waited another moment, then raised his eyes - to the staring ones fixed upon him. To his astonishment they were full of - tears; the great, heavy lip of the negro was quivering like that of a - weeping child. - </p> - <p> - “Why, Marse <i>Carson!</i>” he sobbed; “my God, I thought you knowed I - didn't do it! When you tol' 'em all las' night dat I wasn't de right one, - I thought you meant it. I never once thought you—<i>you</i> was - gwine ter turn ergin me.” - </p> - <p> - Carson restrained himself by an effort as he went on, still calmly, with - the penetrating insistency of grim justice itself. - </p> - <p> - “Then do you know anything about it?” he asked;—“<i>anything at all?</i>” - </p> - <p> - “Nothing I could swear to, Marse Carson,” Pete replied, wiping his eyes on - his torn and sleeveless arm. - </p> - <p> - “Do you suspect anybody, Pete?” - </p> - <p> - “Yasser, I do, Marse Carson. Somehow, I b'lieve dat Sam Dudlow done it. I - b'lieve it 'ca'se folks say he's run off; en what he run off fer lessen - he's de one? Oh, Marse Carson, I 'lowed I was havin' er hard 'nough time - lak it is, but ef <i>you</i> gwine jine de rest uv um en—” - </p> - <p> - “Stop; think!” Carson went on, almost sternly, so eager was he to get - vital facts bearing on the situation. “I want to know, Pete, why you think - Sam Dudlow killed the Johnsons. Have you any other reason except that he - has left?” - </p> - <p> - Pete hesitated a moment, then he answered: “I think he de one, Marse - Carson, 'ca'se one day while me'n him en some more niggers was loadin' - cotton at yo' pa's warehouse, some un was guyin' me 'bout de stripes - Johnson en Willis lef' on my back, en I was—I was shootin' off my - mouf. I didn't mean er thing, Marse Carson, but I was talkin' too much, en - Sam come ter me, he did, en said: 'Yo' er fool, nigger; yo' sort never - gits even fer er thing lak dat. It's de kind dat lay low en do de wuk - right.' En, Marse Carson, w'en I hear dem folks was daid I des laid it ter - Sam, in my mind.” - </p> - <p> - “Pete,” Dwight said, as he rose to leave, “I firmly believe you are - innocent.” - </p> - <p> - “Thank God, Marse Carson! I thought you'd b'lieve me. Now, w'en you gwine - let me out?” - </p> - <p> - “I can't tell that, Pete,” Dwight answered, as cheerfully as possible. - “You need a suit of clothes. I'll send you one right away.” - </p> - <p> - “One er yo's, Marse Carson?” The gashed face actually glowed with the - delight of a child over a new toy. - </p> - <p> - “I was going to order a new one,” Carson answered. “I'd ruther have one er - yo's ef you got one you thoo with,” Pete said, eagerly. “Dar ain't none in - dis town lak dem you git fum New York. Is you quit wearin' dat brown - checked one you got last spring?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh yes, you can have that, Pete, if you wish, and I'll send you some - shoes and other things.” - </p> - <p> - “My God! will yer, boss? Lawd, won't I cut er shine at chu'ch next Sunday! - Say, Marse Carson, you ain't gwine ter let um keep me in here over Sunday, - is you?” - </p> - <p> - “I'll do the best I can for you, Pete,” the young man said, and when the - jailer had opened the door he descended the stairs with a heavy, - despondent tread. - </p> - <p> - “Poor, poor devil!” he said to himself. “He's not any more responsible - than a baby. And yet our laws hold him, in his benighted ignorance, more - tightly, more mercilessly than they do the highest in the land.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXIV. - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0027" id="linkimage-0027"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9212.jpg" alt="9212 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9212.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - ESPITE the news Pole Baker had brought to town regarding the disposition - of the mountaineers to let justice take its formal trend in the case of - the negro already arrested, as the day wore on towards its close the whole - town took on an air of vague excitement. Men who now lived at Darley, but - had been former residents of the country, and were supposed to know the - temper and character of the aggrieved people, shook their heads and smiled - grimly when the subject of Pete's coming trial was mentioned. “Huh!” said - one of these men, who kept a small grocery store on the main street, “that - nigger'll never see the door of the court-house.” - </p> - <p> - And that opinion grew and seemed to saturate the very garment of - approaching night. The negroes at work in various ways about the business - portion of the town left their posts early, and with no comment to the - whites or even to their own kind, they betook themselves to their homes—or - elsewhere. The negroes who had held the interrupted meeting at Neb Wynn's - house had been all that day less in evidence than any of the others. The - attempt to stimulate law and order, to meet the white race on common - ground, had been crudely and yet sincerely made. They had done all they - could within their restricted limitations; it now behooved them personally - to avoid the probable overflow of the coming crisis. Their meeting in - secret, they feared, was not understood. The present prisoner, in fact, - had to all appearances, at least, been knowingly harbored by them. To - explain would be easy enough; convincing an infuriated, race-mad mob of - their friendly, helpful intentions would be impossible. Hence it was that - long-headed, now silent-tongued, Neb Wynn locked up his domicile, and with - his wife and children stole through the darkest streets and alleys to the - house of a citizen who had owned his father. - </p> - <p> - “Marse George,” he said. “I want you ter take me 'n my folks in fer - ter-night.” - </p> - <p> - “All right, Neb,” the white man answered; “we've got plenty of room. Go - round to the kitchen and get your suppers. I didn't know it was as bad as - that, but it may be well to be on the safe side.” - </p> - <p> - Just after dark Carson went home to supper. As he drew near the front gate - he noticed that the Warren house was lighted both in the upper and lower - portions and that a group of persons were standing on the veranda. He - noticed the towering form of old Lewis and the bowed, bandanna-clad head - of Linda, and with them, evidently offering consolation, stood Helen, the - Major, Sanders, and Keith Gordon. - </p> - <p> - Carson was entering the gate when Keith through the twilight recognized - him and signalled him to wait. And leaving the others Keith came over to - him. - </p> - <p> - “I must see you, Carson,” he said, in a voice that had never sounded so - grave. “Can we go in? If Mam' Linda sees you she'll be after you. She's - terribly upset.” - </p> - <p> - “Come into the library,” Carson said. “I see it's lighted. We'll not be - disturbed there.” - </p> - <p> - Inside the big, square room, with its simple furnishings and drab tints, - Carson sank, weary from his nervous strain and loss of sleep, into an - easy-chair and motioned his friend to take another, but Keith, nervously - twirling his hat in his hands, continued to stand. - </p> - <p> - “It's awful, old man, simply awful!” he said. “I've been there since - sundown trying to pacify that old man and woman, but what was the use?” - </p> - <p> - “Then she's afraid—” Carson began. - </p> - <p> - “Afraid? Good God! how could she help it? The negro preacher and his wife - came to her and Lewis and frankly tried to prepare them for the worst. - Uncle Lewis is speechless, and Linda is past the tear-shedding stage. Hand - in hand the old pair simply pace the floor like goaded brutes with human - hearts and souls bound up in them. Then Helen—the poor, dear girl! - Isn't this a beautiful homecoming for her? I feel like fighting, and yet - there's nothing to hit but empty, heartless air. I don't care if you know - it, Carson.” Keith sank into a chair and leaned forward, his eyes - glistening with the condensed dew of tense emotion. “I don't deny it. - Helen is the only girl I ever cared for. She's treated me very kindly ever - since she discovered my feeling, and given me to understand in the - sweetest way the utter hopelessness of my case, but I still feel the same. - I thought I was growing out of it, but seeing her sorrow to-day has shown - me what she is to me—and what she always will be. I'll love her all - my life, Carson. She's suffering terribly over this. She loves her old - mammy as much as if they were the same flesh and blood. Oh, it was - pitiful, simply pitiful! Helen was trying to pacify her just now, and the - old woman suddenly laid her hand on her breast and cried out: 'Don't talk - ter me, honey child, I nursed bofe you en Pete on dis here breast, an' dat - boy's <i>me</i>—my own self, heart en soul, en ef God let's dem men - hang 'im ter-night, I'll curse 'Im ter my grave.'” - </p> - <p> - “Poor old woman!” Carson sighed. “If it has to come to her, it would be - better to have it over with. It would have been better if I had stood back - last night and let them have their way.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh no,” protested Keith; “that's Linda's sole comfort. She hardly draws a - breath that doesn't utter your name. She still believes that her only hope - rests in you. She says you'll yet think of something—that you'll yet - do something to prevent the thing. She cries that out every now and then. - Oh, Carson, I don't amount to anything, but before God I can truthfully - say that I'd give my life to have Linda talk that way about me—before - Helen.” - </p> - <p> - Carson groaned, his tense hands were locked like prongs of steel in front - of him, his face was deathly pale. “You wouldn't like any sort of talk or - idle compliments if you were bound hand and foot as I am,” he said. “It's - mockery. It's vinegar rubbed into my wounds. It's hell!” - </p> - <p> - He tore himself from his chair and began to stride about the room like a - restless tiger in a cage. His walk took him into the hall utterly - forgetful of the presence of his friend. There a colored maid came to him - and said, “Your mother wants you, sir.” - </p> - <p> - He stared at the girl blankly for a moment, then he seemed to pull himself - together. “Has my mother heard—?” - </p> - <p> - “No, sir, your father told us not to excite her.” - </p> - <p> - “All right, I'll go up,” Carson said. “Tell Mr. Gordon, in the library, to - wait for me.” - </p> - <p> - “I was wondering if you had come,” the invalid said, as he bent over her - bed, took her hand, and kissed her. “I presume you have been very busy all - day over Pete's case?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, very busy, mother dear.” - </p> - <p> - “And is it all right now? Your father tells me the trial is set for - to-morrow. Oh, Carson, I'm very proud of you. I heard your speech last - night, and it seemed to lift me to the very throne of God. Oh, you are - right, you are right! It is our duty to love and sympathize with those - poor creatures. They are still children in the cradles of their past - slavery. They can't act for themselves. Their crimes are due chiefly to - the lack of the guiding hands they once had. Oh, my son, your father is - angry with you for spoiling your political chances by such a radical - stand, but even if you lose the race by it, I shall be all the prouder of - you, for you have shown that you won't sell yourself. I wish I could go to - the courthouse to-morrow, but the doctor won't let me. He says I mustn't - have another shock like that last night, when I heard that shot, saw you - reel, and thought you were killed. Son, are you listening?” - </p> - <p> - “Why, yes, mother. I—” His mind was really elsewhere. He had dropped - her hand, and was standing with furrowed brow and tightly drawn lips in - the shadow thrown by the lamp on a table near by and the high posts of the - old-fashioned bedstead. - </p> - <p> - “I thought you seemed to be thinking of something else,” said the invalid, - plaintively. - </p> - <p> - “I really was troubled about leaving Keith downstairs by himself,” Carson - said. “Perhaps I'd better run down now, mother.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh yes, I didn't know he was there. Ask him to supper.” - </p> - <p> - “All right, mother,” and he left the room with a slow step, finding Gordon - on the veranda below fitfully puffing at a cigar as he walked to and fro. - </p> - <p> - “Helen called me to the fence just now,” Keith said. “She's all broken to - pieces. She is relying solely on you now. She sent you a message.” - </p> - <p> - “Me?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, with the tears streaming down her cheeks she simply said, 'Tell - Carson that I am praying that he will think of some way to avert this - disaster.” - </p> - <p> - “She said that!” Carson turned and stared through the gathering shadows - towards the jail. There was a moment's pause, then he asked, in a tone - that was harsh, crisp, and rasping: “Keith, could you get together - to-night fifteen men who would stick to me through personal friendship and - help me arrive at some decision as to—to what is best?” - </p> - <p> - “Twenty, Carson—twenty who would risk their lives at a word from - you.” - </p> - <p> - “They might have to sacrifice—” - </p> - <p> - “That wouldn't make a bit of difference; I know the ones you can depend - on. You've got genuine friends, the truest and bravest a man ever had.” - </p> - <p> - “Then have as many as you can get to meet me at Blackburn's store at nine - o'clock. We may accomplish nothing, but I want to talk to them. God knows - it is the only chance. No, I can't explain now. There is not a moment to - lose. Tell Blackburn to keep the doors shut and let them assemble in the - rear as secretly and quietly as possible.” - </p> - <p> - “All right, Carson. I'll have the men there.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXV. - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0028" id="linkimage-0028"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9219.jpg" alt="9219 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9219.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - HEN Carson reached the front door of Blackburn's store about nine o'clock - that evening, he found it closed. For a moment he stood under the Crude - wooden shed that roofed the sidewalk and looked up and down the deserted - street. It was a dark night, and from the aspect of the heavy, troubled - clouds high winds seemed in abeyance beyond the hills to the west. He was - wondering how he had best make his presence known to his friends within - the store, when he heard a soft whistle, and Keith Gordon, the flaring - disk of a cigar lighting his expectant face, stepped out of a dark - doorway. - </p> - <p> - “I've been waiting for you,” he said, in a cautious undertone. “They are - getting impatient. You see, they thought you'd be here earlier.” - </p> - <p> - “I couldn't get away while my mother was awake,” Carson said. “Dr. Stone - was there and warned me not to leave at night. She can't stand any more - excitement. So I had to stay with her. I read to her till she fell asleep. - Who's here?” - </p> - <p> - “The gang and fully fifteen other trusty fellows—you'll see them on - the inside, every man of them with a gun. At the last moment I heard Pole - Baker was down at the wagon-yard, and I nabbed him.” - </p> - <p> - “Good; I'm glad you did. Now let's go in.” - </p> - <p> - “Not yet, old man,” Keith objected. “Blackburn gave special orders not to - open the door if any person was in sight. Let's walk to the corner and - look around.” - </p> - <p> - They went to the old bank building on the corner, and stood at the foot of - the stairs leading up to the den. No one was in sight. Across the numerous - tracks of the switch-yard hard by there was a steam flouring mill which - ground day and night, and the steady puffing of the engine beat - monotonously on their ears. In a red flare of light they saw the shadowy - form of the engineer stoking the fire. - </p> - <p> - “Now the way is clear,” said Keith; “we can go in, but I want to prepare - you for a disappointment, old man.” - </p> - <p> - Carson stared through the darkness as arm in arm they moved back to the - store. “You mean—” - </p> - <p> - “I'll tell you, Carson. The meeting of these fellows to-night is a big - proof of the—the wonderful esteem in which they hold you. No other - man could have got them together at such a time; but, all the same, they - are not going to allow you to—you see, Carson, they have had time to - talk it over in there, and have unanimously agreed that to make any - opposition by force would be worse than folly. Pole Baker brought some - reliable news, reliable and terrible. Why, he told us just now—however, - wait. He will tell you about it.” - </p> - <p> - Giving a rap on the door that was recognized within, they were admitted by - Blackburn, who stood back in the shadow and quickly closed the shutter and - locked it again. In the uncertain light of a lamp with a murky chimney, on - the platform in the rear, seated on boxes, nail kegs, chairs, table, and - desk, Dwight beheld a motley gathering of his friends and supporters. Kirk - Fitzpatrick, the brawny, black-handed tinner, who had a jest for every - moment, was there; Wilson, the shoemaker; Tobe Hassler, the German baker; - Tom Wayland, the good-hearted drug clerk, whose hair was as red as blood; - Bob Smith, Wade Tingle, and, nestled close to the lamp, and looking like a - hunchback, crouched Garner, so deep in a newspaper that he was utterly - deaf and blind to sounds and things around him. Besides those mentioned, - there were several other ardent friends of the candidate. - </p> - <p> - “Well, here you are at last,” Garner cried, throwing down his paper. “If I - hadn't had something to read I'd have been asleep. I don't know any more - than a rabbit what you intend to propose, but whatever it is, we are late - enough about it.” - </p> - <p> - Hurriedly Carson explained the cause of his delay and took the chair which - the tinner, with the air of a proud inferior, was pushing towards him. As - he sat down and the lamplight fell athwart his careworn face, the group - was overwhelmed with sympathy and a strange, far-reaching respect they - could hardly understand. To-night they were, more than usual, under the - spell of that inner force which had bound them one and all to him and - which, they felt, nothing but dishonor could break. And yet there they sat - so grimly banded together against him that he felt it in their very - attitudes. - </p> - <p> - “The truth is”—Garner broke the awkward pause—“we presume you - got us together to-night to offer open opposition—in case, of - course, that the mob means harm to your client. That seems the only thing - a body of men can do. But, my dear boy, there are two sides to this - question. For reasons of your own, chief among which is a most beautiful - principle to see the humblest stamp of man get justice—for these - reasons you call on your friends to stand to you, and they will stand, I - reckon, to the end, but it's for you, Carson, to act reasonably and think - as readily of the interests of all of us as for those of the unfortunate - prisoner. To meet that mob by opposition to-night would—well, ask - Pole Baker for the latest news. When you have heard what he knows to be - true, I am sure you will see the utter futility of any movement - whatsoever.” - </p> - <p> - All eyes were now turned on the gaunt mountaineer, who was sitting on an - inverted nail keg whittling to a fine point a bit of wood which now and - then he thrust automatically between his white front teeth. - </p> - <p> - “Well, Carson,” he began, in drawling tones, “I lowed you-uns would want - to know just how the land lays, and as I had a sort of underground way of - gettin' at first-hand facts, I raked in all the information I could an' - come on to town. I'd heard about how low your mother was, an' easy upset - by excitement, an' so I didn't go up to your house. I met Keith, an' he - told me I could see you at this meetin', an' so I waited. Carson, the jig - is certainly up with that coon. No power under high heaven could save his - neck. The report that was circulated this morning, was deliberately sent - out to throw the authorities off their guard. Only about thirty men are - still on Sam Dudlow's trail—the rest, hundreds and hundreds, in - bunches an' factions, each faction totin' a flag to show whar they hail - from, an' all dressed in white sheets, is headed this way.” - </p> - <p> - “Do you mean right at this moment?” Carson asked, as he started to rise. - </p> - <p> - Pole motioned to him to sit down. - </p> - <p> - “They won't be here till about twelve o'clock,” he said. “They've passed - the word about amongst 'em, and agreed to meet, so that all factions can - take part, at the old Sandsome place, two miles out on the Springtown - road. They will start from there at half-past eleven on the march for the - jail. It will be after twelve before they get here. Pete's got that long - to make his peace, but no longer. And right here, Carson, before I stop, I - want to say that thar ain't a man in this State I'd do a favor for quicker - than I would for you, but many of us here to-night are family men, and - while that nigger may, as you think, be innocent, still his life is just - one life, while—well”—Baker snapped his dry fingers with a - click that was as sharp as the cocking of a revolver—“I wouldn't - give <i>that</i> for our lives if we opposed them men. They are as mad as - wounded wild-cats. They believe he done it; they know on reliable - testimony that he said he'd kill Johnson; an' they want his blood. Five - hundred such as we are wouldn't halt 'em a minute. I want to help, but I'm - tied hand an' foot.” - </p> - <p> - There was silence after Pole's voice died away. Then Garner rapped on the - table with his small hand and tossed back the long, thick hair from his - massive brow. - </p> - <p> - “You may as well know the truth, Carson,” he said, calmly. “We put it to a - vote just before you came, and we all agreed that we would—well, try - to bring you round to some sort of resignation; try to get you to throw it - off your mind and stop worrying.” - </p> - <p> - To their surprise Carson took up the lamp and rose. “Wait a moment,” he - said, and with the lamp in hand he crossed the elevated part of the floor - and went down the steps into the cellar. They were left in darkness for a - moment, the rays of the lamp flashing now only on the front wall and door - of the long building. - </p> - <p> - “Huh, there ain't anybody hiding there!” Blackburn cautiously called out. - “I looked through the full length of it, turned over every box and barrel, - before you came. I wasn't going to run any risk of having a stray tramp in - a caucus like this.” - </p> - <p> - There was some fixed quality in Dwight's drawn face as he emerged, - carrying the lamp before him, ascended the steps, and again took his place - at the table. - </p> - <p> - “You thought somebody might be hiding there,” the store-keeper said; “but - I was careful to—” - </p> - <p> - “No, it wasn't that,” Carson said. “I was wondering—I was trying to - think—” - </p> - <p> - He paused as if submerged in thought, and Garner turned upon him almost - sternly. He had never before used quite such a harsh tone to his partner. - </p> - <p> - “You've gone far enough, Carson,” he said. “There are limits even to the - deepest friendship. You can't ask your best friends to make their wives - widows and their children orphans in a blind effort to save the neck of - one miserable negro, even if he's as innocent as the angels in heaven. As - for yourself, your heroism has almost led you into a cesspool of reckless - absurdity. You have let that old man and woman up there, and Miss—that - old man and woman, <i>anyway</i>—work on your sympathies till you - have lost your usual judgment. I'm your friend and—” - </p> - <p> - “Stop! Wait!” Carson stood up, his hands on the edge of the table, the - lamp beneath him throwing his mobile face into the shadow of his firm, - massive jaw. “Stop!” he repeated. “You say you have given up. Boys, I - can't. I tell you I <i>can't</i>. I simply can't let them kill that boy. - Every nerve in my body, every pulsation of my soul screams out against it. - I have set my heart on averting this horror. Ten years ago I could have - gone to my bed and slept peacefully, as many good citizens of this town - will to-night, under the knowledge that the verdict of mob law was to be - executed, but in the handling of this case I've had a new birth. There is - no God in heaven if—I say if—He has not made it <i>possible</i> - for the mind and will of man to prevent this horror. There must be a way; - there <i>is</i> a way, and if I could put my ideas into your brains - to-night—my faith and confidence into your souls—we'd prevent - this calamity and set an example for our fellows to follow in future.” - </p> - <p> - “Your ideas into our brains!” Garner said, in a tone of amused resentment. - “Well, I like that, Carson; but if you can see a ghost of a chance to save - that boy's neck with safety to our own, I'd like to have you plug it - through my skull, if you have to do it with a steel drill. At present I'm - the senior member of the firm of Garner & Dwight, but I'll take second - place hereafter, if you can do what you are aiming at.” - </p> - <p> - “I don't mean to reflect on your intelligences,” Dwight went on, - passionately, his voice rising higher, “but I <i>do</i> see a way, and I - am praying God at this moment to make you see it as I do and be willing to - help me carry it out.” - </p> - <p> - “Blaze away, old hoss,” Pole Baker piped up from his seat on the nail keg. - “I'm not a nigger-lover by a long shot, but somehow, seeing how you feel - about this particular one an' his connections, I'm as anxious to save 'im - as if I owned 'im in the good old day an' his sort was fetchin' two - thousand apiece. You go ahead. I feel kind o' sneakin', anyway, for votin' - agin you while you was up thar nursin' yore sick mammy. By gum! you give - me the end of a log I kin tote, an' I'll do it or break my back.” - </p> - <p> - “I want it understood, Carson,” said Wade Tingle at this juncture, “that I - was only voting against our trying to stop that mob by force, and, to do - myself justice, I was voting in the interests of the family men here - to-night. God knows, if you can see any <i>other</i> possible way—” - </p> - <p> - “We have no time to lose,” Carson said. “If we are to accomplish anything - we must be about it. Gentlemen, what I may propose may, in a way, be - asking you to make a sacrifice almost as great as that of open resistance. - I am going to ask you, law-abiding citizens that you are, to break the - law, as you understand it, but not law as the best wisdom of man intended - it to be. This section is in a state of open lawlessness. The law I'm - going to ask you to break is already broken. The highest court might hold - that we would be no better, in <i>fact</i>, than the army of law-breakers - headed this way with the foam of race hatred on their lips, its insane - blaze in their eyes that till recently beamed only in gentleness and human - love. But I'm going to ask you to chose between two evils—to let an - everlasting injustice be done at the hand of a hate that will drown in - tears of regret in time to come, or the lesser evil of breaking an already - broken law. You are all good citizens, and I tremble and blush over my - audacity in asking you to do what you have never in any form done before.” - </p> - <p> - Carson paused. Wondering silence fell on the group. Upon each face - struggled evidences of an almost painful desire to grasp his meaning. That - it was momentous no man there doubted. Even the ever equable Garner was - shaken from, his habitual stoic attitude, and with his delicate fingers - rigidly supporting his great head he stared open-mouthed at the speaker. - </p> - <p> - “Well, well, what is it?” he presently asked. - </p> - <p> - “There is only one chance I see,” and Dwight stood erect, his arms folded, - and stepped back so that the light of the lamp fell full upon his tense - features. The patch of sticking plaster stood out from his pale skin, - giving his perspiring brow an uncanny look. “There is only one thing to - do, my friends, and without your help I stand powerless. I suggest that we - form ourselves into a supposed mob of disguised men, that we go ahead of - the others to the jail, and actually <i>force Burt Barrett to turn the - prisoner over to us</i>.” - </p> - <p> - “Great God!” Garner, stood up, and leaned on the table. “<i>Then</i> what—what - would you do? Good Lord!” - </p> - <p> - Carson pointed steadily to the cellar-door and swallowed the lump of - excitement in his throat. “I would, unseen by any one, if possible, bring - him here and imprison him, in that cellar, guarded by us only till—till - such a time as we could safely deliver him to a court of justice.” - </p> - <p> - “By God, you <i>are</i> a wheel-hoss!” burst from Pole Baker's lips. - “That's as easy as failin' off a log.” - </p> - <p> - “Do you mean to make Burt Barrett believe we are—are actually bent - on lynching the negro?” demanded Keith Gordon, new-born enthusiasm - bubbling from his eyes and voice. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, that would be the only way,” said Carson. “Barrett is a sworn - officer of the law, and his position is his livelihood. Even if we could - persuade him to join us, it wouldn't be fair to him, for he would be - shouldering more responsibility than we would. The only way is to - thoroughly disguise ourselves and compel him to give in as he will be - compelled by the others if we don't act first. I know he would not fire - upon us.” - </p> - <p> - “It looks to me like a dandy idea,” spoke up Blackburn. “As for me I want - to reward originality by doing the thing if possible. As for that cellar, - it's as strong as an ancient fortress anyway and, Carson, Pete would not - try to escape if you ordered him not to. As for disguises, I can lend you - all the bleached sheeting you want. I got in a fresh bale of it yesterday. - I could cut it into ten-yard pieces which would not hurt the sale of it. - Remnants fetch a better price than regular stuff anyway. Boys, let's vote - on it. All in favor stand up.” - </p> - <p> - There was a clatter of shoes and rattling of chairs, boxes, kegs and other - articles which had been used for seats. It was an immediate and unanimous - tribute to the sway Carson Dwight's personality had long held over them. - They stood by him to a man. Even Garner suddenly, and strangely for his - crusty individuality, relegated himself to the rank of a common private - under the obvious leader. - </p> - <p> - “Hold on, boys!” exclaimed one not so easily relegated to any position not - full of action, and Pole Baker was heard in a further proposal. “So far - the arrangements are good and sound but you-uns haven't looked far enough - ahead. When we git to the jail thar's got to be some darned fine talkin' - of exactly the right sort, or Burt Barrett will smell a mouse and refuse - our demands. In a case like this silence is a sight more powerful than a - lot o' gab. Now, I propose to have one man, and one man <i>only</i> to do - the talking.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, and you are the man,” said Carson. “You must do it.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I'm willin',” agreed Baker. “The truth is, folks say I'm good at - just that sort o' devilment, an' I'd sort o' like the job.” - </p> - <p> - “You are the very man,” Carson said, with a smile. - </p> - <p> - “You bet he is,” agreed Blackburn. “Now come down in the store an' let me - rig you spooks up. We haven't any too much time to lose.” - </p> - <p> - “Thar's another thing you-uns don't seem to have calculated on,” said - Baker, as Blackburn was leading them down to the dry-goods counter. “It - may take time to quiet public excitement, even if we put this thing - through to-night. You propose to let the impression go out that thar was a - lynchin'. How will you keep 'em from thinkin' it's a fake unless they see - some'n' hangin' to a tree-limb in the mornin'? If they thought we'd put up - a job on 'em, they would nose around till they was onto the whole - business, an' then thar would be the devil to pay.” - </p> - <p> - “You are right about that,” said Garner. “If we could convince the big mob - that Pete has been lynched in some secret way or place, by some other - party, who don't want to be known in the matter, the excitement would die - down in a day or so.” - </p> - <p> - “A bang-up good idea!” was Pole's ultimatum. “Leave it to me and I'll - study up some way to put it to Burt—by gum! How about tellin' 'im - that, for reasons of our own, we intend to hide the body whar the niggers - can't git at it to give it decent burial? I really believe that would go - down.” - </p> - <p> - “Splendid, splendid!” said Garner. “Work that fine enough, Pole, and it - will give us more time for everything.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I can work it all right if I am to do the talkin',” Pole said, as - he reached out for his portion of the sheeting. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXVI. - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0029" id="linkimage-0029"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9231.jpg" alt="9231 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9231.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - IFTEEN minutes later a spectral group in all truth filed out through the - rear door of the store and paused for further orders in the shadow of the - wall of the adjoining bank building. The sky was still darkly overcast and - a drizzle as fine as mist was in the air. - </p> - <p> - With Carson and Pole in the lead, the party marched grimly two and two, a - weird sight even to themselves. Straight down the alley behind the stores - along the railway they moved, keeping step like trained military men. - Pole, for visual effect, carried a coil of new hemp rope, and he swung it - about in his white, winglike clutch with the ease of a cow-boy, as he - gutturally gave orders as to turns and tentative pauses. Now and then he - would leave the others standing and stride ahead through the darkness and - signal them to come on up. In this way they progressed with many a halt, - and many a cautious détour to avoid the light that steadily gleamed - through some cottage window or chink in a door or some watchman at his - post at some mill or factory, till finally they reached the grounds - surrounding the court-house and jail. - </p> - <p> - “I don't know how soft-hearted you are, Carson,” Baker whispered in the - young man's ear, “but thar's one thing a man full of feelin' like you seem - to be ought to be ready to guard against.” - </p> - <p> - “What is that, Pole?” - </p> - <p> - “Why, you know, if we git the poor devil out he'll be sure he's done for, - an' he'll be apt to raise an' awful row, beggin' an' prayin' an' no - tellin' what else. But for all you do, don't open yore mouth. Let 'im bear - it—tough as it will be—till we kin git to a safe place. - Thar'll be folks listenin' in the houses along the way to the store, an' - ef you was to speak one kind word the truth might leak out. To all - appearances we are lynchers of the most rabid brand.” - </p> - <p> - “I understand that, Pole,” said Carson. “I won't interfere with your - work.” - </p> - <p> - “Don't call it <i>my</i> work,” said Baker, admiringly. “I've been through - a sight of secret things in my time, but I never heard of a scheme as - slick an' deep-laid as this. If she goes through safe I'll put you at the - top of my list. It looks like it will work, but a body never kin tell. - Burt Barrett is the next hill to climb. I don't know him well enough to - foresee what stand he'll take. Boys, have yore guns ready, an' when I - order you to take aim, you do it as if you intend to make a hole in - whatever is in front of you. Our bluff is the biggest that ever was - thought of, but it has to go. Now, come on!” - </p> - <p> - Through the open gateway they marched across the public lawn covered with - fresh green grass to the jail near by. A dog chained in a kennel behind - the house waked and snarled, but he did not bark. There was a little porch - at the entrance to the building, and along this the ghostly band silently - arranged themselves. - </p> - <p> - “Hello in thar, Burt Barrett!” Pole suddenly cried out, in sharp, stern - tones, and there was a pause. Then from the darkness within came the sound - of some one striking a match. A flickering light flared up in the room on - the right of the entrance; then the voice of a woman was heard. - </p> - <p> - “Burt, what is it?” she asked, in a startled tone. - </p> - <p> - “I don't know; I'll see,” a coarser voice made answer. Another pause and a - door on the inside was opened, then the heavier outer one, and Burt - Barrett, half dressed, stood staring at the grewsome assemblage before - him. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0030" id="linkimage-0030"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0233.jpg" alt="0233 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0233.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - “We've come after that damned nigger,” said Baker, succinctly, his tone so - low in his throat that even an intimate friend would not have recognized - it, and as he spoke he raised his coil of rope and tapped the floor of the - porch. - </p> - <p> - Barrett, as many a brave man would have done in his place, stood - helplessly bewildered. Presently he drew himself together and said, - firmly: “Gentlemen, I'm a sworn officer of the law. I've got a duty to - perform and I'm going to do it.” And thereupon they saw the barrel of a - revolver which the jailer held in his hand. In the awful stillness that - engulfed his words the click of its hammer, as the weapon was cocked, - sounded sharp and distinct. - </p> - <p> - “Too bad, but he's goin' to act ugly, boys,” Pole said, with grim - finality. “He is a white man <i>in looks</i>, but he's j'ined forces with - the black devils that are bent on rulin' our land. Steady, take aim! If - thar's less'n twenty holes in his carcass when he's examined in the - mornin' it will stand for some member's eternal disgrace. Aim careful!” - </p> - <p> - There was a startled scream at the half-open window of the bedroom on the - right and the jailer's wife thrust out her head. - </p> - <p> - “Don't shoot 'im!” she screamed. “Don't! Give 'em the keys, Burt. Are you - a fool?” - </p> - <p> - “He certainly looks it,” was Baker's comment, in a tone of well-assumed - only half-bridled rage. “Give 'im ten seconds to drap them keys, boys. - I'll count. When I say ten blaze away, an' let a yawnin' hell take 'im.” - </p> - <p> - “Gentlemen, I—” - </p> - <p> - “Burt! Burt! what do you mean?” the woman cried again. “Are you plumb - crazy?” - </p> - <p> - “One!” counted Pole—“two!—three—” - </p> - <p> - “I want to do what's right,” the jailer temporized. “Of course, I'm - overpowered, and if—” - </p> - <p> - “Five!—six!” went on Pole, his voice ringing out clear and piercing. - </p> - <p> - There was a jingling of steel. The spectators, peering through ragged - eye-holes in their white caps, saw the bunch of keys as it emerged from - Barrett's pocket and fell to the doorstep. - </p> - <p> - “Gentlemen, you may live to be sorry for this night's work,” he said. - </p> -<p> -“What do you care what we're sorry for,” Pole said, grimly, “just so you -ain't turned into a two-legged sifter? Now”—as he stooped to pick up -the keys—“you git back in thar to yore wife an' children. We -simply mean business an' know what we are about. An' look here, Burt -Barrett”—Pole nudged Carson, who stood close to him—“thar'll be -another gang here in a few minutes on the same business. You kin tell - 'em we beat 'em to the hitchin'-post, an', moreover, you kin tell 'em -that we said that when we settle this nigger's hash them nor nobody else -will ever be able to find hair or hide of 'im. A buryin' to the general -run o' niggers is their greatest joy an' pride, but they'll never cut up -high jinks over this one.” - </p> - <p> - “Good, by Heaven!” Garner chuckled, as he recalled Pole's diplomatic - suggestion at the store. - </p> - <p> - Without another word of protest the jailer receded into the house, leaving - the door open, and, led by Pole, the others entered the hallway with a - firm tread and mounted the stairs to the floor above. All was still here, - and so dark that Baker lighted a bit of candle and held it over his head. - Knowing the cell in which Pete was confined, Carson led them to its door. - As they paused there and Pole was fumbling with-the keys, a low, stifled - scream escaped from the prisoner, and then, in the dim, checkered light - thrown by the candle through the bars, they saw the negro standing close - against the farthest grating. Pole had found the right key and opened the - door. - </p> - <p> - “It's all up with you, Pete Warren,” he said; “you needn't make a row. - You've got to take your medicine. Come on.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, my God, my God!” cried the negro, as with great, glaring eyes he - gazed upon them. “I never done it. I never done it. Don't kill me!” - </p> - <p> - “Bring 'im on, boys!” Pole produced an artificial oath with difficulty, - for he really was deeply moved. “Bring 'im on!” - </p> - <p> - Two of the spectres seized Pete's hands just as his quaking knees bent - under him and he was falling down. He started to pull back, and then, - evidently realizing the utter futility of resisting such an overwhelming - force, he allowed himself to be led through the door of the cell and down - the stairs into the yard. - </p> - <p> - “I never done it, before God I never done it!” he went on, sobbing like a - child. “Don't kill me, white folks. Gi' me one chance. Tek me ter Marse - Carson Dwight; he'll tell you I ain't de man.” - </p> - <p> - “He'll tell us a lot!” growled Baker, with another of his mechanical - oaths. “Dry up!” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, my God have mercy!” For the first time Pete noticed the coil of rope - and the sight of it redoubled his terror. On his knees he sank, trying to - cover his eyes with his imprisoned hands, and quivering like an aspen. - Hardly knowing what he was doing, Carson Dwight impulsively bent over him, - but before he had opened his lips the watchful Baker had roughly drawn him - back. - </p> - <p> - “Don't, for God's sake!” the mountaineer whispered, warningly, and he - pointed across the street to the houses near by. Indeed, as if to sanction - his precaution, a window-sash in the upper story of the nearest house was - raised, and a pale, white-haired man looked out. It was the leading - Methodist preacher of the place. For one moment he stared down on them, as - if struck dumb by the terror of the scene. - </p> - <p> - “In the name of Christ, our Lord, our Saviour, be merciful, neighbors,” he - said, in a voice that shook. “Don't commit this crime against yourselves - and the community you live in. Spare him! In the name of God, hand him - back to the protection of the law.” - </p> - <p> - “The law be hanged, parson,” Pole retorted, as part of his rare rôle. “We - are looking after that; thar hain't no law in this country that's wuth a - hill o' beans.” - </p> - <p> - “Be merciful—give the man a chance for his life,” the preacher - repeated. “Many think he is innocent!” - </p> - <p> - Hearing that plea in his behalf, Pete screamed out and tried to extend his - hands supplicatingly towards his defender, but under Baker's insistent - orders he was dragged, now struggling more desperately, farther down the - street. - </p> -<p> -“Ah, Pole, tell the poor—” Keith Gordon began, when the mountaineer -sharply commanded: “Dry up! You are disobeyin' orders. Hurry up; bring - 'im on. That other gang may hear this racket, and then—come on, I tell -you! You violate my leadership and I'll have you court-martialled.” - </p> - <p> - In some fashion or other they moved on down the street, now taking a more - direct way to the store in the fear that they might be met by the expected - lynchers and foiled in their purpose. They had traversed the entire length - of the street leading from the court-house to the bank building, and were - about to turn the corner to reach the rear door of the store, when, in a - qualm of fresh despair, Pete's knees actually gave way beneath him and he - sank limply to the sidewalk. - </p> - <p> - “Lord, I reckon we'll have to tote 'im!” Pole said. - </p> - <p> - “Pick 'im up, boys, and be quick about it. This is a ticklish spot. Let - one person see us and the game will be up.” - </p> - <p> - Pete clearly misunderstood this, and seeing in the words a hint that help - or protection was not far away, he suddenly opened his mouth and began to - scream. - </p> - <p> - As quick as a flash Carson, who was immediately behind him, clapped his - hand over his lips and said, “Hush, for God's sake, Pete, we are your - friends!” - </p> - <p> - With his mouth still closed by the hand upon it, the negro could only - stare into Carson's mask too terrified to grasp more than that he had - heard a kindly voice. - </p> - <p> - “Hush, Pete, not a word! We are trying to save you,” and Carson removed - his hand. - </p> - <p> - “Who dat? Oh, my God, who dat talkin'?” Pete gasped. - </p> - <p> - “Carson Dwight,” said the young man. “Now hush, and hurry.” - </p> - <p> - “Thank God it you, Marse Carson—oh, Marse Carson, Marse Carson, you - ain't gwine ter let um kill me!” - </p> - <p> - “No, you are safe, Pete.” - </p> - <p> - In a rush they now bore him round the corner, and then pausing at the door - of the store, to be certain that no extraneous eye was on them, they - waited breathlessly for an order from their leader. - </p> - <p> - “All right, in you go!” presently came from Pole's deep voice, in a great - breath of relief. “Open the door, quick!” - </p> - <p> - The shutter creaked and swung back into the black void of the store, and - the throng pressed inward. The door was closed. The darkness was profound. - </p> - <p> - “Wait; listen!” Pole cautioned. “Thar might be somebody on the sidewalk at - the front.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, my God, Marse Carson, is you here?” came from the quaking negro. - </p> - <p> - “Sh!” and Pole imposed silence. For a moment they stood so still that only - the rapid panting of the negro was audible. - </p> - <p> - “All right, we are safe,” Baker said. “But, gosh! it was a close shave! - Strike a light an' let's try to ease up this feller. I hated to be rough, - but somebody had to do it.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, it had to be,” said Dwight. “Pete, you are with friends. Strike a - light, Blackburn, the poor boy is scared out of his wits.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, Marse Carson, what dis mean? what you-all gwine ter do ter me?” - </p> - <p> - Blackburn had groped to the lamp on the table and was scratching a match - and applying the flame to the wick. The yellow light flashed out, and a - strange sight met the bewildered gaze of the negro as kindly faces and - familiar forms gradually emerged from the sheeting. Near him stood Dwight, - and grasping his hand, Pete clung to it desperately. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, Marse Carson, what dey gwine ter do ter me?” - </p> - <p> - “Nothing, Pete, you are all right now,” Carson said, as tenderly as if he - were speaking to a hurt child. “The mob was coming and we had to do what - we did to save you.” He explained the plan of keeping him hidden in the - cellar for a few days, and asked Pete if he would consent to it. - </p> - <p> - “I'll do anything you say, Marse Carson,” the negro answered. “You know - what's best fer me.” - </p> - <p> - “I've got an old mattress here,” Blackburn spoke up; “boys, let's get it - into the cellar. It will make him comfortable.” - </p> - <p> - And with no sense of the incongruity of their act, considering that as the - sons of ex-slave-holders they had never in their lives waited upon a - negro, Wade Tingle and Keith Gordon drew the dusty mattress from a - dry-goods box in the corner of the room and bore the cumbersome thing - through the cellar doorway into the cob webbed darkness beneath. Blackburn - followed with a candle, indicating the best-ventilated spot for its - placement. Thither Carson led his still benumbed client, who would move - only at his bidding, and then like a jerky automaton. - </p> - <p> - “You won't be afraid to stay here, will you, Pete?” he asked. - </p> - <p> - The negro stared round him at the encroaching shadows in childlike - perturbation. - </p> - <p> - “You gwine ter lock me in, Marse Carson?” he asked. - </p> - <p> - Carson explained that in a sense he was still a prisoner, but a prisoner - in the hands of friends—friends who had pledged themselves to see - that justice was done him. The negro slowly lowered himself to the - mattress and stretched out his legs on the stone pavement. An utter droop - of despair seemed to settle on him. From the depths of his wide-open eyes - came a stare of dejection complete. - </p> - <p> - “Den I <i>hain't</i> free?” he said. - </p> - <p> - “No, not wholly, Pete,” Carson returned; “not quite yet.” - </p> - <p> - “Dry up down thar. Listen!” It was Baker's voice in a guarded tone as he - stood in the cellar doorway. - </p> - <p> - The group around the negro held its breath. The grinding of footsteps on - the floor over their heads ceased. Then from the outside came the steady - tramp of many feet on the brick sidewalk, the clatter of horses' hoofs in - the street. - </p> - <p> - “Sh! Blow out the light,” Carson said, and Blackburn extinguished it. - Profound darkness and stillness filled the long room. Like an army, still - voiceless and grimly determined, the human current flowed jailward. It - must have numbered several hundred, judged by the time it took to pass. - The sound was dying out in the distance when Carson, the last to leave - Pete, crept from the cellar, locked the door, and joined the others in the - darkness above. - </p> - <p> - “That mob would hang every man of us if they caught on to our trick,” said - Baker, with a queer, exultant chuckle. - </p> - <p> - Carson moved past him towards the front door. - </p> - <p> - “Where you goin'?” Pole asked, sharply. - </p> - <p> - “I want to see how the land lies on the outside,” answered Carson. - </p> - <p> - “You'll be crazy if you go,” said Blackburn, and the others pressed round - Dwight and anxiously joined in the protest. - </p> - <p> - “No, I must go,” Dwight firmly persisted. “We ought to find out exactly - what that crowd thinks to-night, so we'll know what to depend on. If they - think a lynching took place they will go home satisfied; if not, as Pole - says, they may suspect us, and the most godless riot that ever blackened - human history may take place here in this town.” - </p> - <p> - “He's right,” declared the mountaineer. “Somebody ought to go. I really - think I'm the man, by rights, an'—” - </p> - <p> - “No, I want to satisfy myself,” was Dwight's ultimatum. “Stay here till I - come back.” - </p> - <p> - Blackburn accompanied him to the front door, cautiously looked out, and - then let him pass through. - </p> - <p> - “Knock when you get back—no, here, take the key to the back door and - let yourself in. So far, so good, my boy, but this is absolutely the most - ticklish job we ever tackled. But I'm with you. I glory in your spunk.” - </p> - <p> - There was a swelling murmuring, like the onward sweep of a storm from the - direction of the courthouse. Voices growing louder and increasing in - volume reached their ears. - </p> - <p> - “Wait for me. Keep the lights out for all you do,” Dwight said, and off he - strode in the darkness. - </p> - <p> - In the gloom and stillness of the store the others waited his return, - hardly daring to raise their voices above a whisper. He was gone nearly an - hour, and then they heard the key softly turned in the lock and presently - he stood in their midst. - </p> - <p> - “They've about dispersed,” he said, in a tone of intense fatigue. “They - lay it to the Hillbend faction, who had some disagreement with them - to-day. They seem satisfied.” - </p> - <p> - “Gentlemen”—it was Garner's voice from his chair at the table—“there's - one thing that must be regarded as sacred by us to-night, and that is the - <i>absolute</i> secrecy of this thing.” - </p> - <p> - “Good Lord, you don't think any of us would be fool enough to talk about - it!” exclaimed Blackburn, in an almost startled tone over the bare - suggestion. “If I thought there was a man here who would blab this to a - living soul, I'd—” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I only wanted to impress that on you all,” said Garner. “To all - intents and purposes we are law-breakers, and I'm a member of the Georgia - bar. Where are you going, Carson?” - </p> - <p> - “Down to speak to Pete,” answered Dwight. “I want to try to pacify him.” - </p> - <p> - When he came back a moment later he said: “I've promised to stay here till - daylight. Nothing else will satisfy him; he's broken all to pieces, crying - like a nervous woman. As soon as I agreed to stay he quieted down.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I'll keep you company,” said Keith. “I can sleep like a top on one - of the counters.” - </p> - <p> - “Hold on, there is something else,” Carson said, as they were moving to - the rear door. “You know the news will go out in the morning that Pete was - taken off somewhere and actually lynched. This will be a terrible blow to - his parents, and I want permission from you all to let those two, at - least, know that—” - </p> - <p> - “No!” Garner cried, firmly, even fiercely, as he turned and struck the - counter near him with his open hand. “There you go with your eternal - sentiment! I tell you this is a grave happening tonight—grave for us - and still graver for Pete. Once let that mob find out that they were - tricked and they will hang our man or burn this town in the effort.” - </p> - <p> - “I understand that well enough,” admitted Dwight, “but the Lord knows we - could trust his own flesh and blood when they have so much at stake.” - </p> - <p> - “I am not willing to <i>risk</i> it, if you are,” said Garner, crisply, - glancing round at the others for their sanction. “It will be an awful - thing for them to hear the current report in the morning, but they'd - better stand it for a few days than to spoil the whole thing. A negro is a - negro, and if Lewis and Linda knew the truth they would be Shouting - instead of weeping and the rest of the darkies would suspect the truth.” - </p> - <p> - “That's a fact,” Blackburn put in, reluctantly. “Negroes are quick to get - at the bottom of things, and with no dead body in sight to substantiate a - lynching story they would smell a mouse and hunt for it till they found - it. No, Carson, <i>real</i> weeping right now from the mammy and daddy - will help us out more than anything else. Yes, they will have to bear it; - they will be all the happier in the end.” - </p> - <p> - “I suppose you are right,” Dwight gave in. “But it's certainly tough.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXVII. - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0031" id="linkimage-0031"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9247.jpg" alt="9247 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9247.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - T was just at the break of day the following morning. Major Warren, who - had not retired until late the night before in his perturbed state of mind - over the calamity which hovered in the air, was sleeping lightly, when he - was awakened by the almost noiseless presence of some one in his room. - Sitting up in bed he stared through the half darkness at a form which - towered straight and still between him and the open window through which - the first touches of the new day were stealing. “Who's there?” he - demanded, sharply. - </p> - <p> - “It's me, Marse William—Lewis.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, you!” The Major put his feet down to the rug at the side of his bed, - still not fully awake. “Well, is it time to get up? Anything—wrong? - Oh, I remember now—Pete!” - </p> - <p> - A groan from the great chest of the negro set the air to vibrating, but he - said nothing, and the old gentleman saw the bald pate suddenly sink. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, Lewis, I hope—” Major Warren paused, unable to continue, so - vast and grewsome were the fears his servant's attitude had inspired. The - old negro took a step or two forward and then said: “Oh, marster, dey done - tuck 'im out las' night—dey tuck my po' boy—” A great sob rose - in old Lewis's breast and burst on his lips. - </p> - <p> - “Really, you don't mean it—you can't, after—” - </p> - <p> - “Yasser, yasser; he daid, marster. Pete done gone! Dey killed 'im las' - night, Marse William.” - </p> - <p> - “But—but how do you know?” - </p> - <p> - “I des dis minute seed Jake Tobines; he slipped up ter my house en called - me out. Jake lives back 'hind de jail, Marse William, en when de mob come - him en his wife heard de racket en slipped out in de co'n-patch ter hide. - He seed de gang, marster, wid his own eyes, en heard um ax fer de boy. At - fus Marse Barrett refused ter give 'im up, but dey ordered fire on 'im en - he let um have de keys. Jake seed um fetch Pete out, en heard 'im beggin' - um ter spar' his life, but dey drug 'im off.” - </p> - <p> - There was silence broken only by the old negro's sobs and the smothered - effort he was making to restrain his emotion. - </p> - <p> - “And mammy,” the Major began, presently; “has she heard?” - </p> - <p> - “Not yit, marster, but she is awake—she been awake all night long—on - her knees prayin' most er de time fer mercy—she was awake when Jake - come en she knowed I went out ter speak ter 'im, en when I come back in de - house, marster, she went in de kitchen. I know what she done dat fur—she - didn't want ter know, suh, fer certain, ef I'd heard bad news or not. I - wanted ter let 'er know, but I was afeared ter tell 'er, en come away. I - loves my wife, marster—I—I loves her mo' now dat Pete's gone - dan ever befo'. I loves 'er mo' since she been had ter suffer dis way, en, - marster, dis gwine ter kill 'er. It gwine ter kill Lindy, Marse William.” - </p> - <p> - “What's the matter, father?” It was Helen Warren's voice, and with a look - of growing terror on her face she stood peering through the open doorway. - The Major ejaculated a hurried and broken explanation, and with little, - intermittent gasps of horror the young lady advanced to the old negro. - </p> - <p> - “Does Mam' Linda know?” she asked, her face ghastly and set in sculptural - rigidity. - </p> - <p> - “Not yet, missy, not yet—it gwine ter kill yo' ol' mammy, child.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, it may,” Helen said, an odd, alien quality of resignation in her - voice. “I suppose I'd better go and break it to her. Father, Pete was - innocent, absolutely innocent. Carson Dwight assured me of it. He was - innocent, and yet—oh!” - </p> - <p> - With a shudder she turned back to her room across the hall. In the - stillness the sound of the match she struck to light her lamp was - raspingly audible. Without another word, and wringing the extended hand of - his wordless master, Lewis crept down the stairs and out into the pale - light of early morning. Like an old tree fiercely beaten by a storm, he - leaned towards the earth. He looked about him absently for a moment, and - then sat down on the edge of the veranda floor and lowered his head to his - brown, sinewy hands. - </p> - <p> - A negro woman with a milk-pail on her arm came up the walk from the gate - and started round the house to the kitchen door, but seeing him she - stopped and leaned over him. “Is what Jake done say de trufe?” she asked. - </p> - <p> - “Yassum, yassum, it done over, Mary Lou—done over,” Lewis said, - looking up at her from his blearing eyes; “but ef you see Lindy don't let - on ter her yit. Young miss gwine ter tell 'er fust.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, my Lawd, it done over, den!” the woman said, shudderingly; “it gwine - ter go hard with Mam' Lindy, Unc' Lewis.” - </p> -<p> -“It gwine ter <i>kill</i> 'er, Mary Lou; she won't live dis week out. I know - 'er. She had ernough dis life wid all she been thoo fur 'erself en her -white folks, in bondage en out, en' dis gwine ter settle 'er. I don't -blame 'er. I'm done thoo myse'f. Ef de Lawd had spar' my child, I -wouldn't er ax mo', but, Mary Lou, I hope I ain't gwine ter stay long. -I'll hear dat po' boy beggin' fer mercy every minute while I live, en -what I want mo' of it fur? Shucks! no, I'm raidy—en, 'fo' God, I wish -dey had er tuck us all three at once. Dat ud 'a' been some comfort, but -fer Pete ter be by hisse'f beggin' um ter spar' 'im—all by hisse'f, en -me 'n his mammy—” - </p> - <p> - The old man's head went down and his body shook with sobs. The woman - looked at him a moment, and then, wiping her eyes on her apron, she went - on her way. - </p> - <p> - A few minutes later, just as the red sun was rising in a clear sky and - turning the night's moisture into dazzling gems on the grass and leaves of - trees and shrubbery, like the beneficent smile of God upon a pleasing - world, Helen descended the stairs. She had the sweet, pale face of a - suffering nun as she paused, looked down on the old servant, and caught - his piteous and yet grateful, upturned glance. - </p> - <p> - “I'm going to her now, Uncle Lewis,” she said. “I want to be the first to - tell her.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, you mus' be de one,” Lewis sighed, as he rose stiffly; “you de - onliest one.” - </p> - <p> - He shambled along in her wake, his old hat, out of respect for her - presence, grasped in his tense hand. As they drew near the little sagging - gate at the cottage there was a sound of moving feet within, and Linda - stood in the doorway shading her eyes from the rays of the sun with her - fat hand. To the end of her life Helen had the memory of the old woman's - face stamped on her brain. It was a yellow mask, which might have belonged - to a dead as well as a living creature, behind which the lights of hope - and shadows of despair were vying with each other for supremacy. In no - thing pertaining to the situation did the pathos so piteously lie as in - the fact that Linda was deliberately playing a part—fiercely acting - a rôle that would fit itself to that for which the agony of her soul was - pleading. She was trying to smile away the shadows her inward fears, her - racial intuition were casting on her face. - </p> - <p> - “Mighty early fer you ter come, honey,” she said; “but I reckon you is - worried 'bout yo' ol' mammy.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, it's early for me to be up,” Helen said, avoiding the wavering - glance that seemed in reality to be avoiding the revelation of hers. “But - I saw Uncle Lewis and thought I'd come back with him.” - </p> - <p> - “You hain't had yo' breakfast yit, honey, I know,” said Linda, reaching - for a chair half-heartedly and placing it for her young mistress, and then - her eyes fell on her husband's bareheaded, bowed attitude as he stood at - the gate, and something in it, through her sense of sight, gave her a - deadening blow. For an instant she almost reeled; she drew a deep breath, - a breath that swelled out her great, motherly bosom, then with her hands - hanging limply at her side, she stood in front of Helen. For a moment she - did not speak, and then, with her face on fire, her great, somnolent eyes - ablaze, she suddenly bent down and put her hands on Helen's knees and - said: “Looky here, honey, I've been afraid of it all night long, an' I've - fit it off an' fit it off, an' I got up dis mawnin' fightin' it off, but - ef you come here so early 'ca'se—ef you come here ter tell me dat my - child—ef you come here—ef you come here—gre't God on - high, it ain't so! it cayn't be dat way! Look me in de eyes, honey, I'm - raidy en waitin' fer you ter give it de lie.” - </p> - <p> - For one moment she glared at Helen as the girl sat white and quivering, - her glance on the floor, and then she uttered a piercing scream like that - of a frightened beast, and grasping the hand of her husband, who was now - by her side, she pointed a finger of stone at Helen. “Look! Look, Lewis; - my Gawd, she <i>ain't lookin' at me!</i> Look at me, honey chile; look at - me! D' you hear me say—” She stood firmly for an instant and then - she reeled into her husband's arms. - </p> - <p> - “She daid; whut I tol you? Missy, yo' ol' mammy daid,” and lifting his - wife in his arms he bore her to the bed in the corner of the room. “Yes, - she done daid,” he groaned, as he straightened up. - </p> - <p> - “No, she's only fainted,” said Helen; “bring me the camphor, quick!” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXVIII. - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0032" id="linkimage-0032"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9253.jpg" alt="9253 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9253.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - HAT morning at the usual hour the store-keepers opened their dingy houses - in the main street and placed along the narrow brick sidewalks the dusty, - stock-worn samples of their wares. The clerks and porters as they swept - the floors would pause to discuss the happening of the night just gone. - Old Uncle Lewis and Mammy Linda Warren's boy had been summarily dealt - with, that was all. The longer word just used had of late years become a - part of the narrowest vocabulary, suggesting to crude minds many meanings - not thought of by lexicographers, not the least of which was something - pertaining to justice far-reaching, grim, and unfailing in these days of - bribery and graft. Only a few of the more analytical and philosophical - ventured to ask themselves if, after all, the boy might have been - innocent. If they put the question to the average citizen it was tossed - off with a shrug and a “Well, what's the difference? It's such talk as he - was guilty of that is at the bottom of all the black crimes throughout the - South.” Such venom as Pete's was the very muscle of the black claws that - were everywhere reaching out for helpless white throats. Dead? Yes, he was - dead. What of it? How else was the black, constantly increasing torrent to - be dammed? - </p> - <p> - And yet by ten o'clock that morning even these tongues were silenced, for - news strange and startling began to steal in from the mountains. The party - who had been in pursuit of the desperado Sam Dudlow had overtaken him—found - him hiding in a bam, covered with hay. He was unarmed and made no - resistance, laughing as if the whole thing were a joke. He frankly told - them that he would have given himself up earlier, but he had hoped to live - long enough to get even with the other leader of the mob that had whipped - him at Darley, a certain Dan Willis. He confessed in detail exactly how he - had murdered the Johnsons and that he had done it alone. Pete Warren was - in no way implicated in it. The lynchers, to get the whole truth, - threatened him; they tortured him; they tied him to a tree and piled pine - fagots about him, but he still stuck to his statement, and when they had - mercifully riddled him with bullets, just as his clothing was igniting, - they left him hanging by the road-side, a grewsome scarecrow as a warning - to his kind, and, led by Jabe Parsons, they made all haste to reach the - faction on Pete Warren's track to tell them that the boy was innocent. - </p> - <p> - Jabe Parsons, carrying a load on his mind, remembering his wife's valiant - stand in behalf of the younger accused, rode faster than his tired - fellows, and near his own farm met the lynchers returning from Darley. - “Too late,” they told him, in response to his news, the Hillbend boys had - done away with the Darley jailbird and mysteriously hidden the body to - inspire fear among the negroes. - </p> - <p> - At Darley consternation swept the place as story after story of Aunt - Linda's prostration passed from house to house. “Poor, faithful old woman! - Poor old Uncle Lewis!” was heard on every side. - </p> - <p> - About half-past ten o'clock Helen, accompanied by Sanders, came down-town. - At the door of Carson's office they parted and Helen came in. Carson - happened to be alone. He rose suddenly from his seat and came towards her, - shocked by the sight of her wan face and dejected mien. - </p> - <p> - “Why, Helen!” he cried, “surely you don't think—” and then he - checked himself as he hastened to get a chair for her. - </p> - <p> - “I've just left mammy,” she began, in a voice that was husky with emotion. - “Oh, Carson, you can't imagine it! It is simply heart-rending, awful! She - is lying there at death's door staring up at the ceiling, simply - benumbed.” - </p> - <p> - Carson sat down at his desk and leaned his head on his hand. Could he keep - back the truth under such pressure? It was at this juncture that Garner - came in. Casting a hurried glance at the two, and seeing Helen's - grief-stricken attitude, he simply bowed. - </p> - <p> - “Excuse me, Miss Helen, just a moment,” he said. “Carson, I left a paper - in your pigeon-hole,” and as he bent and extracted a blank envelope from - the desk he whispered, warningly: “Remember, not one word of this! Don't - forget the agreement! Not a soul is to know!” And putting the envelope - into his pocket he went out of the room, casting back from the threshold a - warning, almost threatening glance. - </p> - <p> - “I've been with her since sunup,” Helen went on. - </p> - <p> - “She fainted at first, and when she came to—oh, Carson, you love her - as I do, and it would have broken your heart to have heard her! Oh, such - pitiful wailing and begging God to put her out of pain!” - </p> - <p> - “Awful, awful!” Dwight said; “but, Helen—” Again he checked himself. - Before his mind's eye rose the faces of the faithful group who had stood - by him the night before. He had pledged himself to them to keep the thing - secret, and no matter what his own faith in Helen's discretion was he had - no right, even under stress of her grief, to betray what had occurred. No, - he couldn't enlighten her—not just then, at all events. - </p> - <p> - “I was there when Uncle Lewis came in to tell her that proof had come of - Pete's absolute innocence,” Helen went on, “but instead of comforting her - it seemed to drive her the more frantic. She—but I simply can't - describe it, and I won't try. You will be glad to know, Carson, that the - only thing in the shape of comfort she has had was your brave efforts in - her behalf. Over and over she called your name. Carson, she used to pray - to God; she never mentions Him now. You, and you alone, represent all that - is good and self-sacrificing to her. She sent me to you. That's why I am - here.” - </p> - <p> - “She sent you?” Carson was avoiding her eyes, fearful that she might read - in his own a hint of the burning thing he was trying to withhold. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, you see the report has reached her about what the lynchers said in - regard to hiding Pete's body. You know how superstitious the negroes are, - and she is simply crazy to recover the—the remains. She wants to - bury her boy, Carson, and she refuses to believe that some one can't find - him and bring him home. She seems to think you can.” - </p> - <p> - “She wants me to—” He went no further. - </p> - <p> - “If it is possible, Carson. The whole thing is so awful that it has driven - me nearly wild. You will know, perhaps, if anything can be done, but, of - course, if it is wholly out of the question—” - </p> - <p> - “Helen”—in his desperation he had formulated a plan—“there is - something that you ought to know. You have every right to know it, and yet - I'm bound in honor not to let it out to any one. Last night,” he went on, - modestly, “in the hope of formulating some plan to avert the coming - trouble, I asked Keith to get a number of my best friends together. We met - at Blackburn's store. No positive, sworn vows were made. It was only the - sacred understanding between men that the matter was to be held inviolate, - owing to the personal interests of every man who had committed himself. - You see, they came at my suggestion, as friends of mine true and loyal, - and it seems to me that I'd have a moral right, even now, to take another - into the body—another whom I trust as thoroughly and wholly as any - one of them. Do you understand, Helen?” - </p> - <p> - “No, I'm in the dark, Carson,” she said, with a feeble smile. - </p> - <p> - “You see, I want to speak freely to you,” he continued. “I want to tell - you some things you ought to know, and yet I am not free to do so unless—unless - you will tacitly join us. Helen, do you understand? Are you willing to - become one of us so far as absolute secrecy is concerned?” - </p> - <p> - “I am willing to do anything you'd advise, Carson,” the girl replied, - groping for his possible meaning through the cloud of mystery his queer - words had thrown around him. “If something took place that I ought to - know, and you are willing to confide it to me, I assure you I can be - trusted. I'd die rather than betray it.” - </p> - <p> - “Then, as one of us, I'll tell you,” Carson said, impressively. “Helen, - Pete, is not dead.” - </p> - <p> - “Not dead?” She stared at him incredulously from her great, beautiful - eyes. Slowly her white hand went out till it rested on his, and remained - there, quivering. - </p> - <p> - “No, he's alive and so far in safe keeping, free from harm at present, - anyway.” - </p> - <p> - Her fingers tightened on his hand, her sweet, appealing face drew nearer - to his; she took a deep breath. “Oh, Carson, don't say that unless you are - <i>quite</i> sure.” - </p> - <p> - “I am absolutely sure,” he said; and then, as they sat, her hand still - lingering unconsciously on his, he explained it all, leaving the part he - had taken out of the recital as much as possible, and giving the chief - credit to his supporters. She sat spellbound, her sympathetic soul melting - and flowing into the warm current of his own while he talked as it seemed - to her no human being had ever talked before. - </p> - <p> - When he had concluded she drew away her hand and sat erect, her bosom - heaving, her eyes glistening. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, Carson,” she cried; “I never was so happy in my life! It actually - pains me.” She pressed her hand to her breast. “Mammy will be so—but - you say she must not—must not yet—” - </p> - <p> - “That's the trouble,” Dwight said, regretfully. - </p> - <p> - “I'm sure I could put her and Lewis on their guard so that they would act - with discretion, but Blackburn and Garner—in fact, all the rest—are - afraid to risk them, just now anyway. You see, they think Linda and Lewis - might betray it in their emotions—their very happiness—and so - undo everything we have accomplished.” - </p> - <p> - “Surely, now that the report of Sam Dudlow's confession has gone out, they - would let Pete alone,” Helen said. - </p> - <p> - “I wouldn't like to risk it quite yet,” said Dwight. “Right now, while - they are under the impression that an innocent negro has been lynched, - they seem inclined to quiet down, but once let the news go out that a few - town men, through trickery, had freed the prisoner, and they would rise - more furious than ever. No, we must be careful. And, Helen, you must - remember your promise. Don't let even your sympathy for Linda draw it out - of you.” - </p> - <p> - “I can keep it, and I really shall,” Helen said. - </p> - <p> - “But you must release me as soon as you possibly can.” - </p> - <p> - “I'll do that,” he promised, as she rose to go. - </p> - <p> - “I'll keep it,” she repeated, when she had reached the door; “but to do so - I'll have to stay away from mammy. The sight of her agony would wring it - from me.” - </p> - <p> - “Then don't go near her till I see you,” Dwight cautioned her. “I'll meet - all the others to-day and put the matter before them. Perhaps they may - give in on that point.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXIX - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0033" id="linkimage-0033"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9260.jpg" alt="9260 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9260.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - T the corner of the street Helen encountered Sanders, who was waiting for - her. At the sight of him standing on the edge of the sidewalk, impatiently - tapping the toe of his neatly shod foot with the ferrule of his tightly - rolled silk umbrella, she experienced a shock which would have eluded - analysis. He had been so completely out of her thoughts, and her present - mood was of such an entrancing nature that she felt a desire to indulge it - undisturbed. The bare thought of the platitudes she would have to exchange - with any one ignorant of her dazzling discovery was unpleasant. After all, - what was it about Sanders that vaguely incited her growing disapproval? - This morning could it possibly be his very faultlessness of attire, his - spick-and-span air of ownership in her body and soul because of their - undefined understanding as to his suit, or was it because—because he - had, although through no fault of his own, taken no part in the thing - which today, for Helen, somehow, held more weight than all other earthly - happenings? Indeed, fate was not using the Darley visitor kindly. He was - unwittingly like a healthy soldier on a furlough making himself useful in - the drawing-room while news of victory was pouring in from his comrades at - the front. - </p> - <p> - “You see I waited for you,” he said, gracefully raising his hat; “but, - Helen, what has happened? Why, what is the matter?” - </p> - <p> - “Nothing,” she said; “nothing at all.” - </p> - <p> - “But,” he went on, frowning in perplexity as he suited his step to hers, - “I never saw any one in my life change so suddenly. Why, when you went - into that office you were simply a picture of despair, but now you look as - if you were bursting with happiness. Your face is flushed, your eyes are - fairly dancing. Helen, if I thought—” - </p> - <p> - He paused, his own color rising, a deeper frown darkening his brow. - </p> - <p> - “If you thought what?” she asked, with a little irritation. - </p> - <p> - “Oh”—he knocked a stone out of his way with his umbrella—“what's - the use denying it! I'm simply jealous. I'm only a natural human being, - and I suppose I'm jealous.” - </p> - <p> - “You have no cause to be,” she said, and then she bit her lip with - vexation at the slip of the tongue. Why should she defend herself to him? - She had never said she loved him. She had not yet consented to marry him. - Besides, she was in no mood to gratify his vanity. She wanted simply to be - alone with the boundless delight she was allowed to share with no one but—Carson—Carson!—the - one who had, for <i>her sake</i>, made the sharing of it possible. - </p> - <p> - “Well, I am uneasy, and I can't help it,” Sanders went on, gloomily. “How - can I help it? You left me so sad and depressed that you had hardly a word - for me, and after seeing this Mr. Dwight you come out looking—do you - know,” he broke off, “that you were there alone with that fellow nearly an - hour?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh no, it couldn't have been so long,” she said, further irritated by his - open defence of what he erroneously considered his rights. - </p> - <p> - “But it was, for I timed you,” Sanders affirmed. “Heaven knows I counted - the actual minutes. There is a lot about this whole thing I don't like, - but I hardly know what it is.” - </p> - <p> - “You are not only jealous but suspicious,” Helen said, sharply. “Those are - things I don't like in any man.” - </p> - <p> - “I've offended you, but I didn't mean to,” Sanders said, with a sudden - turn towards precaution. “You'll forgive me, won't you, Helen?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh yes, it's all right.” She had suddenly softened. “Really, I am sorry - you feel hurt. Don't think any more about it. I have a reason which I - can't explain for feeling rather cheerful just now.” They had reached the - next street corner and she patised. “I want to go by Cousin Ida's. She - lives down this way.” - </p> - <p> - “And you'd rather I didn't go along?” - </p> - <p> - “I have something particular to say to her.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I see. Then may I come as usual this afternoon?” - </p> - <p> - Her wavering, half-repentant glance fell. “Not this afternoon,” she said. - “I ought to be with mammy. Couldn't you call this evening?” - </p> - <p> - “It will seem a long time to wait in this dreary place, with nothing to - occupy me,” he said; “but I shall be well repaid. So I may come this - evening?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh yes, I shall expect you then,” and Helen turned and left him. - </p> - <p> - In the front garden of the Tarpley house she found her cousin watering the - flowers. Observing Helen at the gate, Miss Tarpley hastily put down the - tin sprinkling-pot and hurried to her. - </p> - <p> - “I was just going up to see mammy,” Ida said. “I know I can be of no use - and yet I wanted to try. Oh, the poor thing must be suffering terribly! - She had enough to bear as it was, but that last night—oh!” - </p> - <p> - “Yes—yes,” Helen said. “It is hard on her.” - </p> - <p> - Ida Tarpley rested her two hands on the tops of the white palings of the - fence and stared inquiringly into Helen's face. - </p> - <p> - “Why do you say it in that tone?” she asked; “and with that queer, almost - smiling look in your eyes? Why, I expected to see you prostrated, and—well, - I don't think—I actually don't think I ever saw you looking better - in my life. What's happened, Helen?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, nothing.” Helen was now making a strong effort to disguise her - feelings, and she succeeded to some extent, for Miss Tarpley's thoughts - took another trend. - </p> - <p> - “And poor, dear Carson,” she said, sympathetically. “The news must have - nearly killed him. He came by here last night making all haste to get - down-town, as he said, to see if something couldn't be done. He was - terribly wrought up, and I never saw such a look of determination on a - human face. 'Something <i>has</i> to be done,' he said; 'something <i>must</i> - be done! The boy is innocent and shall not die like a dog. It would kill - his mother, and she is a good, faithful old woman. No, he shall not die!' - And with those words he hurried on. Oh, Helen, that is sad, too. It is sad - to see as noble a young spirit as he has fail in such a laudable - undertaking. Think of how he stood up before that surging mob and let them - shoot at him while he shouted defiance in their teeth, till they cowered - down and slunk away! Think of a triumph like that, and then, after all, to - meet with such galling defeat as overtook him last night! When I heard of - the lynching I actually cried. I think I felt for him as much as I did for - Mam' Linda. Poor, dear boy! You know why he wanted to do it so much—you - know that as well as I do.” - </p> - <p> - “Why he wanted to do it!” Helen echoed, almost hungry for the sweet - confirmation of Dwight's fidelity to her cause. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, you know—you know that his whole young soul was set on it - because it was your wish, because you were so troubled over it. I've seen - that in his eyes ever since the matter came up. I saw it there last night, - and it seemed to me that his very heart was burning up within him. Oh, I - get mad at you—to think you'd let that Augusta man, even if you do - intend some day to marry him—that you'd let him be here at such a - time, as if Carson hadn't enough to bear without that. Ah, Helen, no other - human being will ever love you as Carson Dwight does—never, never - while the sun shines.” - </p> - <p> - With a misleading smile of denial on her face Helen turned homeward. He - loved her—Carson Dwight—<i>that man</i> of all men—still - loved her. Her body felt imponderable as she strode blithely on her way. - In her hands she carried a human life—the life of the poor boy - Carson had so wonderfully struggled for and intrusted to her keeping. To - his mother and father Pete was dead, but to her and Carson, her first - sweetheart, he still lived. The secret was theirs to hold between their - throbbing hearts. Old Linda's grief was but a dream. Helen and Carson - could draw aside the black curtain and tell her to look and see the truth. - </p> - <p> - Standing with bowed head at the front gate when she arrived home, she saw - old Uncle Lewis, his bald pate bared to the sunshine. - </p> - <p> - “Mam' Lindy axin' 'bout you, missy,” he said, pitifully. “She say you went - down-town ter see Marse Carson, en she seem mighty nigh crazy ter know ef - you found whar de—de body er de po' boy is at. Dat all she's beggin' - en pleadin' fer now, missy, en ef dem white mens refuse it, de Lawd only - know what she gwine ter do.” - </p> - <p> - Helen gazed at him helplessly. Her whole young being was wrung with the - desire to let him know the truth, and yet how could she tell him what had - been revealed to her in such strict confidence? - </p> - <p> - “I'll go see mammy now,” she said. “I've no news yet, Uncle Lewis—no - news that I can give you. I'm looking for Carson to come up soon.” - </p> - <p> - As she neared the cottage the motley group of negroes, serious-faced men - and women, bland-eyed persons in their teens, and half-clad children, - around the door intuitively and respectfully drew aside and she entered - the cottage unaccompanied and unannounced. Linda was not in the - sitting-room, where she expected to find her, and so, wonderingly, Helen - turned into the kitchen adjoining. Here the general aspect of things added - to her growing surprise, for the old woman had drawn close the curtains of - the little, small-paned windows, and before a small fire in the chimney - she sat prone on the ash-covered hearth. That alone might not have been so - surprising, but Linda had covered her body with several old tow sacks upon - which she had plentifully sprinkled ashes. The grayish powder was in her - short hair, on her face and bare arms, and filled her lap. There was one - thing in the world that the old woman prized above all else—a big, - leather-bound family Bible which she had owned since she first learned to - read under the instruction of Helen's mother, and this, also ash-covered, - lay open by her side. - </p> -<p> -“Is I gwine ter bury my chile?” she demanded, as she glared up at her -mistress. “What young marster say? Is I, or is I never ter lay eyes on - 'im ergin? Is I de only nigger mother dat ever lived on dis yeth, bound -er free, dat cayn't have dat much? Tell me. Ef dey gwine ter le' me see - 'im Marse Carson ud know it. What he say?” - </p> - <p> - Rendered fairly speechless by the predicament she was in, Helen could only - stand staring helplessly. Presently, however, she bent, and lifting the - Bible from the floor she laid it on the table. With her massive elbows on - her knees, her fat hands over her face and almost touching the flames, - Linda rocked back and forth. - </p> - <p> - “Dey ain't no God!” she cried; “ef dey is one He's es black es de back er - dat chimbley. Dat book is er lie. Dey ain't no love en mercy anywhars dis - side de blinkin', grinnin' stars. Don't tell me er nigger's prayers is - answered. Didn't I pray las' night till my tongue was swelled in my mouf - fer um ter spare my boy? En what in de name er all created was de answer? - When de day broke wid de same sun shinin' dat was shinin' when he laid de - fus time on my breas', de news was fetch me dat my baby chile was dragged - out wid er rope rounst his neck, prayin' ter men whilst I was prayin' ter - God. Look lak dat enough, hein? But no, nex' come de news dat ef he'd er - lived one short hour longer dey might er let 'im go 'ca'se dey foun' de - right one. Look lak dat enough, too, hein? But nex' come de word, en de - las' message: innocent or no, right one or wrong one, my chile wasn't - goin' ter have a common bury in'-place—not even in de Potter's Fiel' - dis book tell erbout so big. Don't talk ter me! Ef prayers fum niggers is - answered mine was heard in hell, en old Scratch en all his imps er - darkness was managin' it. Don't come near me! I might lay han's on you. I - ain't myself. I heard er low trash white man say once dat niggers was des - baboons. I may be one, en er wild one fer all I know—oh, honey, - don't pay no 'tention ter me. Yo' ol' mammy is bein' burnt at de stake en - she ain't 'sponsible. She love you, honey—she love you even in 'er - gre't trouble.” - </p> - <p> - “I understand, mammy,” and Helen put her arms around the old woman's neck. - An almost overpowering impulse had risen in her to tell the old sufferer - the truth, but thinking that some of the negroes might be listening, and - remembering her promise, she restrained herself. - </p> - <p> - “I'm going to write a note to Carson to come up at once,” she said. “He'll - have something to tell you, mammy.” - </p> - <p> - And passing the negroes about the door she went to the house, and - hastening into the library she wrote and forwarded by a servant the - following note: - </p> - <p> - <i>“Dear Carson,—Come at once, and come prepared to tell her. I - can't stand it any longer. Do, do come.</i> - </p> - <p> - <i>“Helen.”</i> - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXX - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0034" id="linkimage-0034"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9269.jpg" alt="9269 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9269.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - ALF an hour later Helen, waiting at the front gate, saw a horse and buggy - turn the corner down the street. She recognized it as belonging to Keith - Gordon. Indeed, Keith was driving, and with him was Carson Dwight. - </p> - <p> - Helen's heart bounded, a vast weight of incalculable responsibility seemed - to lift itself from her. She unlatched the gate and swung it open. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I thought you'd never come!” she smiled, as he sprang out and - advanced to her. “I would have broken my oath of allegiance to the clan if - you had waited a moment longer.” - </p> - <p> - “I might have known you couldn't keep it,” Dwight laughed. “Mam' Linda - would have drawn it out of you just as you did out of me.” - </p> - <p> - “But are you going to tell her?” Helen asked, just as Keith, who had - stepped aside to fasten his horse, came up. - </p> - <p> - “Yes,” Carson answered. “Keith and I made a lightning trip around and - finally persuaded all the others. Invariably they would shake their heads, - and then we'd simply tell them you wished it, and that settled it. They - all seem flattered by the idea that you are a member.” - </p> - <p> - “But say, Miss Helen,” Keith put in, gravely, “we really must guard - against Lewis and Linda's giving it away. It is a most serious business, - and, our own interests aside, the boy's life depends on it.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, we must get them away from the cottage,” said Helen. “They are now - literally surrounded by curious negroes.” - </p> - <p> - “Can't we have them up here in the parlor?” Carson asked. “Your father is - down-town; we saw him as we came up.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, that's a good idea,” Helen responded, eagerly. “The servants are all - at the cottage; we'll make them stay there and have Uncle Lewis and Mam' - Linda here.” - </p> - <p> - “Suppose I run down and give the message,” proposed Keith, and he was off - with the speed of a ball-player on a home-run. - </p> - <p> - “Do you think there is any real danger to Mam' Linda's health in letting - her know it suddenly?” Carson asked, thoughtfully. - </p> - <p> - “We must try to reveal it gradually,” Helen said, after reflecting for a - moment. “There's no telling. They say great joy often kills as quickly as - great sorrow. Oh, Carson, isn't it glorious to be able to do this? Don't - you feel happy in the consciousness that it was your great, sympathetic - heart that inspired this miracle, your wonderful brain and energy and - courage that actually put it through?” - </p> - <p> - “Not through yet,” he laughed, depreciatingly, as his blood flowed hotly - into his cheeks. “It would be just my luck right now to have this thing - turn smack dab against us. We are not out of the woods yet, Helen, by long - odds. The rage of that mob is only sleeping, and I have enemies, political - and otherwise, who would stir it to white heat at a moment's notice if - they once got an inkling of the truth.” He snapped his fingers. “I - wouldn't give that for Pete's life if they discover our trick. Pole Baker - had just come in town when Keith and I left. He said the Hillbend people - were earnestly denying all knowledge of any lynching or of the whereabouts - of Pete's body, and that some people were already asking queer questions. - So, you see, if on top of that growing suspicion, old Lewis and Linda - begin to dance a hoe-down of joy instead of weeping and wailing—well, - you see, that's the way it stands.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, then, perhaps we'd better not tell them, after all,” Helen said, - crestfallen. “They are suffering awfully, but they would rather bear it - for awhile than to be the cause of Pete's death.” - </p> - <p> - “No,” Carson smiled; “from the way you wrote, I know you have had about as - much as you can stand, and we simply must try to make them comprehend the - full gravity of the matter.” - </p> - <p> - At this juncture Keith came up panting from his run and joined them. - “Great Heavens!” he cried, lifting his hands, the palms outward. “I never - saw such a sight. I can stand some things, but I'm not equal to torture of - that kind.” - </p> - <p> - “Are they coming?” Carson asked. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, there's Lewis now. Of course, I couldn't give them a hint of the - truth down there in that swarm of negroes, and so my message that you - wanted to see them here only seemed to key them up higher.” - </p> - <p> - Carson turned to Lewis, who, hat in hand, his black face set in stony - rigidity, had paused near by and stood waiting respectfully to be spoken - to. - </p> - <p> - “Uncle Lewis,” he said, “we've got good news for you and Linda, but a - great deal depends on its being kept secret. I must exact a sacred promise - of you not to betray to a living soul by word of mouth or act what I am - going to tell you. Will you promise, Lewis?” - </p> - <p> - The old man leaned totteringly forward till his gaunt fingers closed upon - one of the palings of the fence; his eyes blinked in their deep cavities. - He made an effort to speak, but his voice hung in his mouth. Then he - coughed, cleared his throat, and slid one of his ill-shod feet backward, - as he always did in bowing, and said, falteringly: “God on high know, - young marster, dat I'd keep my word wid you. Old Unc' Lewis would keep his - word wid you ef dey was burnin' 'im at de stake. You been de bes' friend - me 'n Mam' Lindy ever had, young marster. You been de kind er friend dat - <i>is</i> er friend. When you tried so hard t'other night ter save my boy - fum dem men even when dey was shootin' at you en tryin' ter drag you down—oh, - young marster, I wish you'd try me. I want ter show you how I feel down - here in my heart. Dem folks is done had deir way; my boy is daid, but God - know it makes it easier ter give 'im up ter have er young, high-minded - white man lak you—” - </p> - <p> - “Stop, here's Mam' Linda,” Carson said. “Don't tell her now, Lewis; wait - till we are inside the house; but Pete is alive and safe.” - </p> - <p> - The old man's eyes opened wide in an almost deathlike stare, and he leaned - heavily against the fence. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, young marster,” he gasped, “you don't mean—you sholy can't mean—” - </p> - <p> - “Hush! not a word.” Carson cautioned him with uplifted hand, and they all - looked at old Linda as she came slowly across the grass. A shudder of - horror passed over Dwight at the change in her. The distorted, swollen - face was that of a dead person, only faintly vitalized by some mechanical - force. The great, always mysterious depths of her eyes were glowing with - bestial fires. For a moment she paused near them and stood glaring with - incongruous defiance as if nothing in mortal shape could mean aught but - ill towards her. - </p> - <p> - “Carson has something—something very important to tell you, dear - mammy,” Helen said, “but we must go inside.” - </p> - <p> - “He ain't got nothin' ter tell me dat I don't know,” Linda muttered, - “lessen it is whar dey done put my chile's body. Ef you know dat, young - marster—ef—” - </p> - <p> - But old Lewis had moved to her side, his face ablaze. He laid his hand - forcibly on her shoulder. “Hush, 'oman!” he cried. “In de name er God, - shet yo' mouf en listen ter young marster—listen ter 'im Linda, - honey—hurry up—hurry up in de house!” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, bring her in here,” Carson said, with a cautious glance around, and - he and Helen and Keith moved along the walk while Linda suffered herself, - more like an automaton than a human being, to be half dragged, half led up - the steps and into the parlor. Keith, who had vaguely put her in the - category of the physically ill, placed an easy-chair for her, but from - force of habit, while in the presence of her superiors, the old woman - refused to sit. She and Lewis stood side by side while Carson carefully - closed the door and came back. - </p> - <p> - “We've got some very, very good news for you, Mam' Linda,” said he; “but - you must not speak of it to a soul. Linda, the men who took Pete from jail - did not kill him. He is still alive and safe, so far, from harm.” - </p> - <p> - To the surprise of them all, Linda only stared blankly at the tremulous - speaker. It was her husband who, full of fire and new-found happiness, now - leaned over her. “Didn't you hear young marster?” he gulped; “didn't you - hear 'im say we-all's boy was erlive?—<i>erlive</i>, honey?” - </p> - <p> - With an arm of iron Linda pushed him back and stood before Carson. - </p> - <p> - “You come tell me dat?” she cried, her great breast tumultuously heaving. - “Young marster, 'fo' God I done had enough. Don't tell me dat now, en den - come say it's er big mistake after you find out de trufe.” - </p> - <p> - “Pete's all right, Linda,” Carson said, reassuringly. “Keith and Helen - will tell you about it.” - </p> - <p> - With an appealing look in her eyes Linda extended a detaining hand towards - him, but he had gone to the door and was cautiously looking out, his - attention being drawn to the sound of footsteps in the hall. It was two - negro maids just entering the house, having left half a dozen other - negroes on the walk in front. Going out into the hall, Carson commanded - the maids and the loiterers to go away, and the astonished blacks, with - many a curious, backward glance, made haste to do his bidding. A heavy - frown was on his face and he shrugged his broad shoulders as he took his - place on the veranda to guard the parlor door. “It's a ticklish business,” - he mused; “if we are not very careful these negroes will drop on to the - truth in no time.” - </p> - <p> - He had dismissed the idlers in the nick of time, for there was a sudden, - joyous scream from Linda, a chorus of warning voices. The full import of - the good news was only just breaking upon the stunned consciousness of the - old sufferer. Screams and sobs, mingled with hysterical laughter, fell - upon Carson's ears, through all of which rang the persistent drone of - Keith Gordon's manly voice in gentle admonition. The door of the parlor - opened and old Lewis came forth, his black face streaming with tears. - Going to Carson he attempted to speak, but, unable to utter a word, he - grasped the young man's hand, and pressing it to his lips he staggered - away. A few minutes later Keith came out doggedly trying to divest his - boyish features of a certain glorified expression that had settled on - them. - </p> - <p> - “Good God!” he smiled grimly, as he fished a cigar from the pocket of his - waistcoat, “I'm glad that's over. It struck her like a tornado. I'm glad - I'm not in your shoes. She'll literally fall on your neck. Good Lord! I've - heard people say negroes haven't any gratitude—Linda's burning up - with it. You are her God, old man. She knows what you did, and she knows, - too, that we opposed you to the last minute.” - </p> - <p> - “You told her, of course,” Carson said, reprovingly. - </p> - <p> - “I had to. She was trying to dump it all on me as the only member of the - gang present. I told her, the whole thing was born in your brain and - braced up by your backbone. Oh yes, I told her how we fought your plan and - with what determination you stuck to it in the face of all opposition. No, - the rest of us don't deserve any credit. We'd have squelched you if we - could. Well, I simply wasn't cut out for heroic things. The easy road has - always been mine to any destination, but I reckon nothing worth much was - ever picked up by chance.” - </p> - <p> - The two friends had gone down to the gate and Keith was unhitching his - horse, when Helen came out on the veranda, and seeing Carson she hastened - to him. - </p> - <p> - “She's up in my room,” she explained. “I'm going to keep her there for the - rest of the day anyway. I'm glad now that we took so much precaution. She - admits that we were right about that. She says if she had known Pete was - safe she might have failed to keep it from the others. But she is going to - help us guard the secret now. But oh, Carson, she is already begging to be - allowed to see Pete. It's pitiful. There are moments even now when she - even seems to doubt his safety, and it is all I can do to convince her. - She is begging to see you, too. Oh, Carson, when you told me about it why - did you leave out the part you took? Keith told us all about your fight - against such odds, and how you sat up all night at the store to keep the - poor boy company.” - </p> - <p> - “Keith was with me,” Carson said, flushing, deeply. “Well, we've got Pete - bottled up where he is safe for the present, but there is no telling when - suspicion may be directed to us.” - </p> - <p> - “We are going to win; I feel it!” said Helen, fervidly. “Don't forget that - I'm a member of the clan. I'm proud of the honor,” and pressing his hand - warmly she hurried back to the house. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXXI - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0035" id="linkimage-0035"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9278.jpg" alt="9278 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9278.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - N his way to Blackburn's store the next morning to inquire about the - prisoner, Carson met Garner coming out of the barber-shop, where he had - just been shaved. - </p> - <p> - “Any news?” Carson asked, in a guarded voice, though they were really out - of earshot of any one. - </p> - <p> - “No actual <i>news</i>,” Garner replied, stroking his thickly powdered - chin; “but I don't like the lay of the land.” - </p> - <p> - “What's up now?” Dwight asked. - </p> - <p> - “I don't know that there is anything wrong yet; but, my boy, discovery—discovery - grim and threatening is in the very air about us.” - </p> - <p> - “What makes you think so, Garner?” They paused on the street crossing - leading over to Blackbum's store. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, it's all due to old Linda and Lewis,” Garner said, in a tone of - conviction. “You know I was dead against letting them know Pete was - alive.” - </p> - <p> - “You think we made a mistake in that, then?” Carson said. “Well, the - pressure was simply too strong, and I had to give way under it. But why do - you think it was a bad move?” - </p> - <p> - “From the way it's turning out,” said Garner. “While Buck Black was - shaving me just now he remarked that his wife had seen Uncle Lewis and - Linda and that she thought they were acting very peculiarly. I asked him - in as off-hand and careless a manner as I could what he meant, and he said - that his wife didn't think they acted exactly as if they had just lost - their only child. Buck said it looked like they were only pretending to be - brokenhearted. I thought the best way to discourage him was to be silent, - and so I closed my eyes and he went on with his work. Presently, however, - he said bluntly, 'Look here, Colonel Garner'—Buck always calls me - colonel—'where do you think they put that boy?' He had me there, you - know, and I felt ashamed of myself. The idea of as good a lawyer as there - is in this end of the State actually wiggling under the eye and tongue of - a coon as black as the ace of spades! Finally I told him that, as well as - I could gather, the Hillbend faction had put Pete out of the way, and were - keeping it a secret to intimidate the negroes through their natural - superstition. And what do you reckon Buck said. Huh, he'd make a good - detective! He said he'd had his eye on the most rampant of the Hillbend - men and that they didn't look like they'd lynched anything as big as a - mouse. In fact, he thought they were on the lookout for a good opportunity - in that line.” - </p> - <p> - “It certainly looks shaky,” Carson admitted, as they moved on to the - store, where Blackburn stood waiting for them just inside the doorway. - </p> - <p> - “How did Pete pass the night?” Carson asked, his brow still clouded by the - discouraging observations of his partner. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, all right,” Blackburn made reply. “Bob and Wade slept here on the - counters. They say he snored like a saw-mill. They could hear him through - the floor. Boys, I hate to dash cold water in your faces, but I never felt - as shaky in my life.” - </p> - <p> - “What's the matter with <i>you?</i>” Garner asked, with an uneasy laugh. - </p> - <p> - “I'm afraid a storm is rising in an unexpected quarter,” said the - store-keeper, furtively glancing up and down the street, and then leading - them farther back into the store. - </p> - <p> - “Which quarter is that?” Carson asked, anxiously. - </p> - <p> - “The sheriff is acting odd—mighty odd,” said Blackburn. - </p> - <p> - “Good Lord! you don't think Braider's really on our trail do you?” Garner - cried, in genuine alarm. - </p> - <p> - “Well, you two can make out what it means yourselves,” and Blackburn - pulled at his short chin whiskers doggedly. “It was only about half an - hour ago—Braider's drinking some, and was, perhaps, on that account - a little more communicative—he came in here, his face as red as a - pickled beet, and smelling like a bunghole in a whiskey-barrel, and leaned - against the counter on the dry-goods side. - </p> - <p> - “'I'm the legally elected sheriff of this county, ain't I?' he said, in - his maudlin way, and I told him he was by a big majority. - </p> - <p> - “'Well,' he said, after looking down at the floor for a minute, 'I'll bet - you boys think I'm a dem slack wad of an officer.' - </p> - <p> - “I didn't know what the devil he was driving at, and so I simply kept my - mouth shut, but you bet your life I had my ears open, for there was - something in his eye that I didn't like, and then when he said '<i>you - boys</i>' in that tone I began to think he might be on to the work we did - the other night.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, what next?” Carson asked, sharply. “Well, he just leaned on the - counter, about to slide down every minute,” Blackburn went on, “and then - he began to laugh in a silly sort of way and said, 'Them <i>Hillbend</i> - fellers are a slick article, ain't they?' Of course I didn't know what to - say,” said the store-keeper, “for he had his eyes on me and was grinning - to beat the Dutch, and that is the kind of cross-examination I fail at. - Finally, however, I managed to say that the Hillbend folks had beaten the - others to the jail, anyway, and he broke out into another knowing laugh. - 'The Hillbend gang didn't have as fur to go,' he said. 'Oh, they are a - slick article, an' they've got a slick young leader.'” - </p> - <p> - “What else?” asked Carson, who looked very grave and stood with his lips - pressed together. - </p> - <p> - “Nothing else,” Blackburn answered. “Just then Wiggin, your boon companion - and bosom friend, stopped at the door and called him.” - </p> - <p> - “Good Lord, <i>and with Wiggin!</i>” Garner exclaimed. “Our cake is dough, - and it's good and wet.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, he's a Wiggin man!” said Blackburn. “I've known he was pulling - against Carson for some time. It seems like Braider sized up the - situation, and decided if he was going to be re-elected himself he'd - better pool issues with the strongest man, and he picked that skunk as the - winner. I went to the door and watched them. They went off, arm in arm, - towards the court-house.” - </p> - <p> - “Braider is evidently on to us,” Carson decided, grimly; “and the truth - is, he holds us in the palm of his hand. If he should insist on carrying - out the law, and rearresting Pete and putting him back in jail, Dan Willis - would see that he didn't stay there long, and Wiggin would swear out a - warrant against us as the greatest law-breakers unhung.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh yes, the whole thing certainly looks shaky,” admitted Blackburn. - </p> - <p> - “I tell you one thing, Carson,” Garner observed, grimly, “there are no two - ways about it, we are going to lose our client and your election just as - sure as we stand here.” - </p> - <p> - “I don't intend to give up yet,” Dwight said, his lip twitching nervously - and a fierce look of determination dawning in his eyes. “We've - accomplished too much so far to fail ignominiously. Boys, I'd give - everything I have to ward this thing off from old Aunt Linda. She's - certainly borne enough.” - </p> - <p> - The two lawyers went to their office, avoiding the numerous groups of men - about the stores who seemed occupied with the different phases of the - ever-present topic. They seated themselves at their desks, and Garner was - soon at work. But there was nothing for Carson to do, and he sat gloomily - staring through the open doorway out into the sunshine. Presently he saw - Braider across the street and called Garner's attention to him. Then to - their surprise the sheriff turned suddenly and came directly towards them. - </p> - <p> - “Gee, here he comes!” Garner exclaimed; “he may want to pump us. Keep a - sharp eye on him, Carson. He may really not know anything actually - incriminating, after all. Watch him like a hawk!” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0032" id="link2HCH0032"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXXII. - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0036" id="linkimage-0036"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9285.jpg" alt="9285 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9285.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - HE young men pretended to be deeply absorbed over their work when the - stalwart officer loomed up in the doorway, his broad-brimmed hat well back - on his head, the flush of intoxicants in his tanned face, his step - unsteady. - </p> - <p> - “I hope I won't disturb you, gentlemen,” he said; “but you are two men - that I want to talk to—I might say talk to as a brother.” - </p> - <p> - “Come in, come in, Braider,” Carson said; “take that chair.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0037" id="linkimage-0037"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0283.jpg" alt="0283 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0283.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - As Braider moved with uncertain step to a chair, tilted it to one side to - divest it of its burden of books, newspapers, and old briefs and other - defunct legal documents, Garner with a wary look in his eye fished a - solitary cigar from his pocket—the one he had reserved for a mid-day - smoke—and prof-ered it. - </p> - <p> - “Have a cigar,” he said, “and make yourself comfortable.” - </p> - <p> - The sheriff took the cigar as absent-mindedly as he would, in his - condition, have received a large banknote, and held it too tightly for its - preservation in his big red hand. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I want to talk to you boys, and I want to say a whole lot that I - hope won't go any further. I've always meant well by you two, and hoped - fer your success both in the law—and politics.” - </p> - <p> - Garner cast an amused glance, in spite of the gravity of the situation, at - his partner, and then said, quite evenly, “We know that, Braider—we - always <i>have</i> known it.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, as I say, I want to <i>talk</i> to you. I've heard that an honest - confession is good for the soul, if not for the pocket, and I'm here to - make one, as honest as I kin spit it out.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, that's it?” said Garner, and with a wary look of curiosity on his - face he sat waiting. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, and I want to begin back at the first and sort o' lead up. It's hard - to keep a fellow's political leaning hid, Carson, and I reckon you may - have heard that I had some notion of casting my luck in with Wiggin.” - </p> - <p> - “After he began circulating those tales about me, yes,” Carson said, with - a touch of severity; “not before, Braider—at least not when I worked - as I did the last time for your own election.” - </p> - <p> - “You are plumb right,” the sheriff said, readily enough. “I flopped over - sudden, I'll acknowledge; but that's neither here nor there.” He paused - for a moment and the lawyers exchanged steady glances. - </p> - <p> - “He may want to make a bargain with us,” Garner's eyes seemed to say, but - Carson's mind had grasped other and more dire possibilities as he recalled - Blackburn's remark of a few minutes before. In fact all those assurances - of good-will might mean naught else than that the sheriff—at the - instigation of Wiggin and others—had come actually to arrest him as - the leader of the men who had intimidated the county jailer and stolen - away the State's prisoner. The thought seemed to be borne telepathically - to Garner, for that worthy all at once sat more rigidly, more aggressively - defiant in his chair, and the pen he was chewing was suspended before his - lips. This beating about the bush, in serious things, at least, was not - Garner's method. - </p> - <p> - “Well, well, Braider,” he said, with a change of tone and manner, “tell us - right out what you want. The day is passing and we've got lots to do.” - </p> - <p> - “All right, all right,” agreed the intoxicated man; “here goes. Boys, what - I'm going to say is a sort of per-personal matter. You've both treated me - like a respectable citizen and officer of the law, and I've taken it just - as if I fully deserved the honor. But Jeff Braider ain't no hypocrite, if - he <i>is</i> a politician and hobnobs with that sort of riffraff. Boys, - always, away down at the bottom of everything I ever did tackle in this - life, has been the memory of my old mother's teachings, and I've tried my - level best, as a man, to live up to 'em. I don't know as I ever come nigh - committing crime—as I regard it—till here lately. Crime, they - tell me, stalks about in a good many disguises. The crime I'm talking - about had two faces to it. You could look at it one way and it would seem - all right, and then from another side it would look powerful bad. Well, I - first saw this thing the night the mob raided Neb Wynn's shanty and run - Pete Warren out and chased him to your house, Carson. You may not want to - look me in the eye ag'in, my boy, when I tell you, but I could have come - to your aid a sight quicker that night than I did if I hadn't been loaded - down with so many fears of injury to myself. As I saw that big mob rushing - like a mad river after that nigger, I said to myself, I did, that no human - power or authority could save 'im anyway, and that if I stood up before - the crowd and tried to quiet them, that—well, if I wasn't shot dead - in my tracks I'd kill myself politically, and so I waited in the edge of - the crowd, hiding like a sneak-thief, till—till you did the work, - and then I stepped up as big as life and pretended that I'd just arrived.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh!” Garner exclaimed, and he stared at the bowed head of the officer - with a look of wonder in his eyes; and it was a look of hope, too, for - surely no human being of exactly <i>this</i> stamp would take unfair - advantage of any one. - </p> - <p> - “That was the <i>first</i> time,” Braider gulped, as he went on, his - glance now directed solely to Carson. “My boy, I went to bed that night, - after we jailed that nigger, feeling meaner than an egg-sucking dog looks - when he's caught in the act. If there is anything on earth that will shame - a man it is to see another display more moral and physical courage than he - does, and you did enough of both that night to show me where I stood. It - was a new thing to me, and it made me mad. I was a good soldier in the war—I - wear a Confederate veteran's badge that was pinned onto my coat in public - by the | beautiful daughter of a dead comrade—but being shot at in a - bunch ain't the same as being the <i>only</i> target, and I showed my - limit.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, you are exaggerating the whole thing,” Carson said, with a flush of - embarrassment. - </p> - <p> - “No I ain't, Carson Dwight,” Braider said, feelingly, and he took out his - red cotton handkerchief and wiped his eyes. “You showed me that night the - difference between bravery, so-called, and the genuine thing. I reckon - bravery for personal gain is a weak imitation of bravery that acts just - out of human pity as yours did that night. Well, that ain't all. The next - day I was put to a worse test than ever. It was noised about, you know, - that a bigger mob than the first was rising. I stayed out of the centre of - town as much as I could, for everywhere I went folks would look at me as - if they thought I'd surely do something to protect the prisoner, and at - home my wife was whimpering around all day, saying she was sure Pete was - innocent, or enough so to deserve a trial, if not for himself for the sake - of his mammy and daddy. But what was such a wavering thing as I was to do? - I took it that seventy-five per cent, of the men who had backed me with - their ballot in my election was bent on lynching the prisoner, and if I - opposed them they would consider me a traitor. On the other hand, I was up - against this: if I did put up a feeble sort of opposition and gave in easy - under pressure, the conservative men, like some we have here in town, - would say I didn't mean business or I'd have actually opened fire on the - mob. You see, boys, I wasn't man enough to take a stand either way, and - though I well knew what was coming, I went about lying like a dog—lying - in my throat, telling everybody that the indications showed that the - excitement had quieted down. I went home that night and told my wife all - was serene, and I drank about a quart of rye whiskey to keep me from - thinking about the business and went to bed, but my conscience, I reckon, - was stronger than my whiskey, for I rolled and tumbled all night. It - seemed to me that I was, with my own hands, tying the rope around that - pore nigger's neck. There I lay, a sworn officer of the law, flat on my - back with not enough moral courage in my miserable carcass to have killed - a gnat. Carson, if I saw you once before my eyes that long night, I saw - you five hundred times. Your speech rang over and over in my ears. I saw - you stand there when a ball had already grazed your brow and defy them to - shoot again. I saw that poor black boy clinging to your knees, and knew - that the light of Heaven had shone on you, while I lay in the hot darkness - of the bottomless pit.” - </p> - <p> - “God, you do put it strong!” Garner exclaimed. - </p> - <p> - “I'm not putting it half strong enough,” the sheriff went on. “I don't - deserve to hold office even in a community half run by mob law. But I - ain't through. I ain't through yet. I got up early that awful morning, and - went out to feed my hogs at a pen that stands on a back street, and there - a woman milking a cow told me that it was over Pete Warren was done for—guilty - or not, he was done for. I went in the house and tried to gulp down my - breakfast, faced by my wife, who wouldn't speak to me, and showed in other - ways what she thought about the whole thing. She was eternally sighing and - going on about old Mammy Lindy and her feelings. I first went to the jail, - and there I was told that two mobs had come, the first the Hillbend crowd, - who did the work, and the bigger mob that got there too late.” - </p> - <p> - Braider's voice had grown husky and he coughed. Garner stole a searching - glance of inquiry at Carson, but Dwight, his face suffused with a warm - look of pity for the speaker, was steadily staring through the open door. - </p> - <p> - “I ain't done yet, God knows I ain't,” the sheriff gulped. “That morning I - felt meaner than any convict that ever wore ball and chain. If I'd been - tried and found guilty of stabbing a woman in the back I don't believe I - could have felt less like a man. I tried to throw it all off by thinking - that I couldn't have done any good anyway, but it wouldn't work. Carson, - you and your plucky stand for the maintenance of law was before me, and - you wasn't paid for the work while I was. Huh! do you remember seeing me - as you came out of Blackburn's store that morning, with your hair all - tousled up and your eyes looking red and bloodshot?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I remember seeing you,” said Dwight. “I would have stopped to speak - to you but—but I was in a hurry to get home.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, you may have heard that I used to be a sort of a one-horse - detective,” Braider went on, “and I had acquired a habit of looking for - the explanation of nearly every unusual thing I saw, and—well, you - coming out of that store before it was opened for trade, while the - shutters in the front was still closed, struck me as odd. Then again, - remembering your big interest in Pete's case, somehow, it didn't seem to - me—meeting you sudden that way—that you looked quite as - downhearted as I expected. In fact, I thought you appeared sort o' - satisfied over something.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh!” Garner exclaimed, all at once suspecting Braider of a gigantic ruse - to entrap them. “You thought he looked chipper, did you? Well, I must say - he looked exactly the other way to me when I first saw him that day.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, it started me to wondering, anyway,” went on the sheriff, ignoring - Garner's interruption, “and I set to work to watch. I hung about the - restaurant across the street, smoking a cigar and keeping my eyes on that - store. After awhile I saw Bob Smith go in the store and then Wade Tingle. - Then I saw a big tray of grub covered with a white cloth sent from the - Johnston House, and Bob Smith come to the door and took it in, sending the - coon that fetched it back to the hotel. Well, I waited a minute or two and - then sauntered, careless-like, across and went in. I chatted awhile with - Bob and Wade, noticing, I remember, that for a newspaper man Wade seemed - powerful indifferent about gathering items about what had happened, and - that Blackburn was busy folding up a tangled lot of short pieces of white - sheeting. All this time I was looking about to see where that waiter full - of grub had gone. Not a sign of it was in sight, but in a lull in the talk - I heard the clink of crockery somewhere below me, and I caught on. Boys, - I'm here to tell you that never did a condemned soul feel as I felt. I - went out in the open air praying, actually praying, that what I suspected - might be true. I started for the jail and on the way met Burt Barrett. I - asked him for particulars, and when he said that the Hillbend mob had left - word that nobody need even look for the remains of the boy my heart gave a - big jump in the same way as it had when that clip and saucer collided in - that cellar. I asked Burt if he noticed which way the mob tuck the - prisoner, and he said down towards town. I asked him if it wasn't odd for - Hillbend folks to go that way to hang a man, and he agreed that it was. - Well, to make a long story short, I was on to your gigantic ruse, and God - above knows what a load it took off of me. You had saved me, Carson—you - had saved me from toting that crime to my grave. I knew you were the - ringleader, for I didn't know anybody else who would have thought of such - a plan. You are a sight younger man than I am, but you stuck to principle, - while I shirked principle, duty, and everything else. Doing all that was - hurting your political chances, and you knew it, but you stuck to what was - right all the same.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, he certainly has queered his political chances,” Garner said, - grimly, with a look of wonder in his eye over the sheriff's frank - confession. “But you, I think you said, were a Wiggin man,” he finished. - </p> - <p> - “Well, Wiggin and some others <i>think</i> I am yet,” said Braider; “and I - reckon I was till this thing come up; but, boys, I guess I've got a little - smidgin of good left in me, for somehow Wiggin has turned my stomach. But - I hain't got to what I was leading up to. Neither one of you hain't - admitted that there is a nigger in that wood-pile yet, and I don't blame - you for keeping it to yourselves. That is your business, but the time has - come when Jeff Braider's got to do the right thing or plunge deeper into - hellishness, and he's had a taste of what it means and don't want no more - of it. I may lose all I've got by it. Wiggin and his gang may beat me to a - cold finish next election, but from now on I'm on the other side.” - </p> - <p> - “Good,” said Garner; “that's the way to talk. Was that what you were - leading up to, Braider?” - </p> - <p> - “Not altogether,” and the sheriff rose and stood over Carson, resting his - hand on the young man's shoulder to steady himself. “My boy, I've come to - tell you that the damnedest, blackest plot agin you that ever was laid has - been hatched out.” - </p> - <p> - “What is that, Braider?” Carson asked, calmly enough under the - circumstances. - </p> - <p> - “Wiggin and his gang have found out that a trick was played night before - last. The Hillbend men convinced them that they didn't lynch anybody, and - the Wiggin crowd smelt around until they dropped on to the thing. The only - fact they are short on is where the boy is hid. They think he is in the - house of one of the negro preachers. Wiggin come to me, not half an hour - ago, and considering me one of his stand-bys, he told me all about it. The - scheme is for me to arrest Pete and jail 'im on the charge of murder and - then to arrest you fer being the ringleader of a jail-breaking gang, who - preaches law and order in public for political gain and breaks both in - secret.” - </p> - <p> - “And what do they think will become of Pete?” Carson asked, a touch of - supreme bitterness in his tone. - </p> - <p> - “Wiggin didn't say; but I know what would happen to him. The seeds of - bloody riot are being strewn broadcast by the handful. They've been to - every member of the crowd that lynched Sam Dudlow and warned them, on - their lives, not to repeat the statement that Dudlow had said Pete was - innocent. They told the lynchers that you two lawyers were on the hunt for - men who had heard the confession and intend to use that as evidence - against them.” - </p> - <p> - “Ah, that <i>is</i> slick, slick!” Garner muttered. - </p> - <p> - “Slick as double-distilled goose-grease,” said Braider. “The lynchers are - denying to friend or foe that Dudlow said a word, and the news is - spreading like wildfire that Pete was Dudlow's accomplice, and that you, - Carson, are trying, with a gang of town dudes, to carry your point by - main, bull-headed force.” - </p> - <p> - “I see, I see.” Carson had risen and with a deep frown on his face stood - leaning against the top of his desk. He extended his hand to the officer - and said, “I appreciate your telling me all this, Braider, more than I can - say.” - </p> - <p> - “What's the good of my telling you if the news doesn't benefit you?” the - sheriff asked. “Carson, I want to see you win. I ain't half a man myself, - but I've got two little boys just starting to grow up, and I wish they - could be like you—a two-legged bull-dog that clamps his teeth on - what's right and won't let loose. Carson, you've got a chance—a bare - chance—to get your man out alive.” - </p> - <p> - “What's that?” Dwight asked, eagerly. - </p> - <p> - “Why, let me hold the mob in check by promising to arrest Pete, and you - get some trusty feller to take him in a buggy to-night through the country - to Chattanooga. It would be a ticklish trip, and you want a man that won't - get scared at his shadow, for on every road out of Darley, men will be on - the lookout, but if you once got him there he would be absolutely safe, - for no mob would go out of the State to do work of that sort. Getting a - good man is the main thing.” - </p> - <p> - “I'll do it myself,” Dwight said, firmly. “You?” Garner cried. “That's - absurd!” - </p> - <p> - “I'm the only one who <i>could</i> do it,” Carson declared, “for Pete - would not go with any one else.” - </p> - <p> - “I really believe you are right,” Garner agreed, reluctantly; “but it is a - nasty undertaking after all you've been through.” - </p> - <p> - “By gum!” exclaimed Braider, extending his hand to Dwight. “I hope you - will do it. I want to see you complete a darn good all-round job.” > - “Well, you <i>are</i> an officer of the law,” Garner observed, with - amusement written all over his rugged face, “asking a man to steal your - own prisoner.” - </p> - <p> - “What else can I do that's at all decent?” Braider asked. “Besides, do you - fellows know that there never has been any written warrant for Pete's - arrest. I started to jail him without any, and old Mrs. Parsons turned him - loose. The only time he was put in jail was by Carson himself. By George! - as I look at it, Carson, you have every right to take him out of jail, by - any hook or crook, since you was responsible for him being there instead - of hanging to a limb of a tree. I tell you, my boy, there ain't any law on - earth that can touch you. Nobody is prepared to testify against Pete, and - if you will get him to Chattanooga and keep him there for a while he can - come back here a free man.” - </p> - <p> - “I have friends there who will look after him,” Dwight said. “I'll start - with him to-night.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0033" id="link2HCH0033"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXXIII. - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0038" id="linkimage-0038"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9297.jpg" alt="9297 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9297.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - HAT afternoon Keith Gordon went to Warren's to tell Helen of Carson's plan - for the removal of Pete. She received him in the big parlor, and he found - her seated at one of the wide windows which, in summer-time, was used as a - doorway to the veranda. - </p> - <p> - “I met the conquering hero, Mr. Sanders, on my way down,” he said, - lightly. “I presume he has been here as usual.” - </p> - <p> - “He only called to say good-bye,” Helen answered, a little coldly. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, that <i>is</i> news,” Keith pursued, in the same tone. “Rather - sudden, isn't it?” - </p> - <p> - “No, his affairs would not permit a longer visit,” said Helen. “But you - didn't come to talk of him; it was something about Pete.” - </p> - <p> - She sat very still and rigid while he went into detail as to the whole - situation, and when he had finished she rested her chin in her white hand, - and he saw her breast rise and fall tremulously. - </p> - <p> - “There is danger attached to the trip,” she said, without looking at him. - “I know it, Keith, by the way you talk.” - </p> - <p> - He deliberated for an instant, then acknowledged: “Yes, there is, and to - my way of thinking, Helen, there is a great deal. Wade and I tried to get - him to consent to some other plan, but he wouldn't hear to it. He's so - anxious to put it through all right that he won't trust to any substitute, - and he won't let any one else go along, either. He thinks it would attract - too much attention.” - </p> - <p> - “In what particular way does the danger lie?” Helen faltered, and Keith - saw her pass her hand over her mouth as if to reprimand her lips for their - unsteadiness. - </p> - <p> - “I'd tell you there wasn't any at all, as Carson would have me do,” Keith - declared; “but when a fellow has the courage of an army of men, I believe - in his getting the full credit for it. You want to know and I'm going to - tell you. He's been through ticklish places enough in this business, but - going over that lonely road to-night, when a thousand furious men may be - on the lookout for him, is the worst thing he has tackled. It wouldn't be - so very dangerous to a man who would throw up his hands if accosted, but, - Helen, if you could have seen Carson's face when he was telling us about - it, you would know that he will actually die rather than see Pete taken. - He's reckless of late, anyway.” - </p> - <p> - “Reckless!” Helen echoed, and this time she gave Keith a full, almost - pleading stare. - </p> - <p> - “Oh yes, you know he's reckless. He's been so ever since Mr. Sanders came. - It looks to me like—well, I reckon a man can understand another - better than a woman can, but it looks to me like Carson is doing the whole - thing because you feel so worried about it.” - </p> - <p> - “You certainly wrong him there,” Helen declared. - </p> - <p> - “He is doing it simply because it is right.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, of course he thinks it's <i>right,</i>” Keith returned, with a boyish - smile; “he thinks everything <i>you</i> want is right.” - </p> - <p> - When Keith had gone Helen went at once to Linda's cottage to tell her the - news, putting it in as hopeful a light as possible, and not touching upon - the danger of the journey. But the old woman had a very penetrating mind, - and she stood in the doorway with a deeply furrowed brow for several - minutes without saying anything, then her observation only added to - Helen's burden of anxiety. - </p> - <p> - “Chile,” she said, “ol' Lindy don't like de way dat looks one bit. You say - young marster got ter steal off in de dead o' night, en dat he cayn't even - let me see my boy once 'fo' he go. Suppin up, honey—suppin up! De - danger ain't over yit. Honey, I know what it is,” Linda groaned; “dem - white folks is rising ergin.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, even if that is the reason”—Helen felt the chill hand of fear - grasp her heart at the admission—“even if that is it, Carson will - get him away safely.” - </p> - <p> - “Ef he <i>kin</i>, honey, ef he <i>kin!</i>” Linda moaned. - </p> - <p> - “'God been behind 'im all thoo so fur, but I seed de time when de Lawd - Hisse'f seem ter turn His back on folks tryin' ter do dey level best.” - </p> - <p> - Leaving Linda muttering and moaning in the cottage doorway, the girl went - with a despondent step back to the big empty house and wandered aimlessly - about the various rooms. - </p> - <p> - As night came on and her father returned from town, she met him on the - veranda and gave him a kiss of greeting, but she soon discovered that he - had heard nothing. In fact, he was one of the many who still believed that - Pete had been lynched, the vague whisperings to the contrary not having - reached his old ears. She sat with him at the tea-table, and then went up - to her room and lighted her lamp on her bureau. As she did so she looked - at her reflection in the mirror and started at the sight of her grave - features. Then a flash from her wrist caught her eye. It was the big - diamond of a beautiful bracelet which Sanders had given her, and as she - looked at it she shuddered. Was she superstitious? She hardly knew, and - yet a strange idea took possession of her brain. Would her unspoken - prayers for Carson Dwight's safety in his perilous expedition be answered - while she wore that gift from another man, after she had spurned Carson's - great and lasting love, and allowed the poor boy to think that she had - given herself heart and soul to this stranger? She hesitated only a - moment, and opening a jewel box she unclasped the bracelet and put it - away. Then with a certain lightness of heart she went to the window - overlooking the grounds of the Dwight homestead and stood there staring - out in the hope of seeing Carson. But he was evidently not at home, for no - lights were visible except a dim one in the invalid's room and one in old - Dwight's chamber adjoining. - </p> - <p> - At ten o'clock Helen disrobed herself still with that awful sense of - impending tragedy hovering over her. The oil in her lamp was almost out, - and for this reason only she extinguished the flame, else she would have - kept it burning through the night to dissipate the material shadows which - seemed to accentuate those of her spirit. She heard the old grandfather - clock on the stair-landing below solemnly strike ten, then the monotonous - tick-tack as the great pendulum swung to and fro. Sleep was out of the - question. A few minutes before eleven she heard a soft foot-fall on the - walk in the front garden, and going out on the veranda she looked down. - </p> - <p> - The bowed form of a woman was moving restlessly back and forth from the - steps to the gate. - </p> - <p> - “Is that you, mammy?” Helen asked, softly. - </p> - <p> - The handkerchiefed head was lifted and Linda looked up. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, it's me, honey. I can't sleep. What de use? Kin er mother sleep when - her chile is comin' in de worl'? No, you know she can't; neither kin she - close 'er eyes when she's afeared dat same chile is gwine out of it. I'm - afeared, honey. I'm afeared ter-night wuss dan all. Seem lak de evil - sperits des been playin' wid us all erlong—makin' us think we gwine - ter come thoo, so't will hit us harder w'en it do strack de blow. You go - on back ter yo' baid, honey. You catch yo' death er cold. I'm gwine home - right now.” - </p> - <p> - Helen saw the old woman disappear round the corner of the house, but she - remained on the veranda. The clock was striking eleven, and she was about - to go in, when she heard the dull beat of hoofs on the carriage-drive of - the Dwight place, and through the half moonlight she saw a pair of horses, - Carson's best, harnessed to a buggy and driven by their owner slowly and - cautiously going towards the big gate. Dwight himself got down to open it. - She heard his low commands to the spirited animals as he led them forward - by the bit, and then he stepped back to close and latch the gate. She had - an overpowering impulse to call out to him; but would it be wise? His - evident precaution was to keep his mother from knowing of his departure, - and Helen's voice might attract the attention of the invalid and seriously - hamper him in his undertaking. With her hands pressed to her breast she - saw him get into the buggy, heard his calm voice as he spoke to the - horses, and then he was off—off to do his duty—and <i>hers</i>. - She went back to her room and laid down, haunted by the weird thought that - she would never see him again. Then, all at once, she had a flash of - memory which sent the hot blood of shame from her heart to her brain, and - she sat up, staring through the darkness. <i>That</i> was the man against - whom she had steeled her heart for his conduct, his youthful indiscretions - with her unfortunate brother. Was Carson Dwight to go forever unpardoned—unpardoned - by such as <i>she</i> while <i>that</i> sort of soul held suffering sway - within him? - </p> - <p> - The hours of the long night dragged by and another day began. Keith came - up after breakfast and related the particulars of Carson's departure. - Graphically he recounted how the gang had robed the ill-starred Pete in - grotesque woman's attire and seen him and Carson safely in the buggy, but - that was all that could be told or foretold. As for Keith, he and all the - rest were trying to look on the bright side, and they would succeed better - but for the long face Pole Baker had drawn when he came into town early - that morning and heard of the expedition. - </p> - <p> - “So he was uneasy?” Helen said, in perturbation. - </p> - <p> - Keith hesitated for a moment and then answered: “Yes, to tell you the - truth, Helen, it almost staggered him. He is a good-natured, long-headed - chap, and he lost his temper. He cursed us all out for a silly, stupid set - for allowing Carson to take such a risk. Finally we drew out of him what - he feared. He said the particular road Carson took to reach the State line - was actually alive with men, who had been keyed up to the highest tension - by Wiggin and his followers. Pole said they had their eye on that road - particularly because it was the most direct way to Chattanooga, and that - Carson wouldn't have one chance in five hundred of passing unmolested. He - said the idea of fooling men of that stamp by putting Pete in a woman's - dress in the company of Carson, of all human beings, was the work of - insane men.” - </p> - <p> - “It really was dangerous!” said Helen, pale to the lips. - </p> - <p> - “Well, we meant it for the best”—Keith defended himself and his - friends—“we didn't know the road was a particularly dangerous one. - In fact, Pole didn't learn it himself until several hours after Carson had - left. I really believe he'd have helped us do what we did if he had been - with us last night. We did the best we could; besides, Carson was going to - have his way. Every protest we made was swept off with that winning laugh - of his. In spite of the gravity of the thing, he kept us roaring. I have - never seen him in better spirits. He was bowing and scraping before that - veiled and hooded darky as if he were the grandest lady in the land. He - even insisted on handing Pete into the buggy and protecting his long skirt - from the dusty wheel. We never realized what we had done till he was gone - and we all gathered in the store and talked it over. Blackburn, I reckon, - being the oldest, was the bluest. He almost cried. Helen, I've seen - popular men in my life, but I never saw one with so many friends as - Carson. He's an odd combination. His friends love him extravagantly and - his enemies hate him to the limit.” - </p> - <p> - Late that afternoon, unable to wait longer for news of Carson, Helen went - down to his office. Garner was in, and she surprised a look of firmly - grounded uneasiness on his strong face. For a moment it was as if he - intended to make some equivocal reply to her inquiry, but threw aside the - impulse as unworthy of her courage and intelligence. - </p> - <p> - “To be candid,” he said, as he stood stroking his chin, which bristled - with open disregard for appearances under stress of more important things—“to - tell you the whole truth, Miss Helen, I don't like the lay of the land.” - Then he told her that the sheriff had just informed him of the whispered - rumor that a body of men had met Carson Dwight and his charge near the - State line about three o'clock in the morning. What had taken place the - sheriff didn't know, beyond the fact that the men had disbanded and - returned to their homes all gravely uncommunicative. What it meant no one - but the participants knew. To face the facts, it looked very much as if - harm had really come to one, if not to both, of the two. The mob had - evidently been wrought to a high pitch of resentment for the trick Carson - had played in stealing the prisoner from jail, and this second attempt to - get him away may have enraged his enemies to outright violence against - him, especially as Dwight was a fighting man and very hot-headed when - roused. - </p> - <p> - Unable to discuss the matter in her depressed frame of mind, Helen left - him and went home. The whole story being now out, she found her father - warmly excited and disposed to talk about it in all its phases, the - earliest as well as the latest, but she had no heart for it, and after - urging the Major not to speak of it to Linda she went supperless to her - room. - </p> - <p> - Two hours passed. The dusk had given way to the deeper darkness of - evening. The moon had not yet risen and the starlight from a partly - clouded sky was not sufficiently luminous to aid the vision in reaching - any considerable distance, and yet from one of the rear windows of her - room, where she stood morosely contemplative, she could see the vague - outlines of Linda's cottage. It was while she was looking at the doorway - of the little domicile, which stood out above the shrubbery of the rear - garden as if dimly lighted from a candle within, that she saw something - which caused her heart to suddenly bound. It was the live coal of a cigar, - and the smoker seemed to be leaving the cottage, passing through the - little gateway, and entering her father's grounds. What more natural than - for Carson, if he had returned safely, to go at once to the mother of the - boy with the news? Helen almost held her breath. She would soon be - reasonably sure, for if it were Carson he would take a diagonal direction - to reach the gateway to the Dwight homestead. Was it Carson, or—could - it be her father? Her heart sank over the last surmise, and then it - bounded again, for the coal of fire, fitfully flaring, was moving in the - direction prayed for. Down the stairs Helen glided noiselessly, lest the - Major hear her, and yet rapidly. When she reached the front veranda and - descended the steps to the grass of the lawn she was just in time to see - the red disk passing through the gateway to Dwight's. No form was visible, - and yet she called out firmly and clearly: “Carson! Carson!” The coal of - fire paused, described a curve, and she bounded towards it. - </p> - <p> - “Did you call me?” Carson Dwight asked, in a voice so low from hoarseness - that it hardly reached her ears. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, wait!” she panted. “Oh, you've gotten back!” - </p> - <p> - They now stood face to face. - </p> - <p> - “Oh yes,” he laughed, with a gesture towards his throat of apology for his - hoarseness; “did you think I was off for good?” - </p> - <p> - “No, but I was afraid”—she was shocked by the pallor of his usually - ruddy face, the many evidences of fatigue upon him, the nervous way he - stood holding his hat and cigar—“I was afraid you had met with - disaster.” - </p> - <p> - “But why did you feel that way?” he asked, reassuringly. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, from what Keith said in general, and Mr. Garner, too. They declared - the road you took was full of desperadoes, and—” - </p> - <p> - “I might have known they would exaggerate the whole business,” Carson - said, with a smile. “Why, I've just come from Mam' Linda's. I went to tell - her that Pete is all right and as sound as a dollar. He's in the charge of - good, reliable friends of mine up there, and wholly out of danger. In - fact, he's as happy as a lark. When I left him he was surrounded by a gang - of as trifling scamps as himself bragging about his numerous escapes and—he's - generous—my importance in the community we live in. Well, he's - certainly been <i>important</i> enough lately.” - </p> - <p> - “But did you not meet with—with any opposition at all?” Helen went - on, insistently. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, well”—he hesitated, struck a match, and applied it to his - already lighted cigar—“we lost our way, for one thing. You see, I - was a little afraid to carry a light, and it was hard to make out the - different sign-boards, and, all in all, it was a slow trip, but we got - through all right. And hungry! Gee whiz! We struck a restaurant in the - outskirts of Chattanooga about sunup, and while that fellow was cooking us - some steak and making coffee we could have eaten him alive. If Mam' Linda - could have seen her boy eat she would have no fears as to his bodily - condition.” - </p> - <p> - “But didn't you meet some men who stopped you?” Helen asked, staring - steadily into his eyes. - </p> - <p> - He blinked, flicked the ashes from his cigar, and said: “Yes, we did, and - they were really on the war-path, but they seemed very reasonable, and - when I had talked to them and explained the matter from our stand-point—why, - they—they let us go.” - </p> - <p> - They had gone into the grounds and were near the main walk when the gate - was opened and a man came striding towards them. It was Jeff Braider. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I've been looking for you everywhere, Carson,” he cried, warmly, - shaking Dwight's hand. “I heard you'd got back, but I wanted to see you - with my own eyes. Lord, Lord, my boy, if I'd known the awful trouble I was - getting you into I'd never have let you take that road. I've just heard - the whole story. For genuine pluck and endurance you certainly take the - rag off the bush. Why, nine hundred and ninety-nine men out of a thousand - would have given up the game, but you, you young bull-dog—” - </p> - <p> - “Carson, Carson! are you down there?” It was a man's voice from an upper - window. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, father, what is it?” - </p> - <p> - “Your mother wants to see you right now. She's waked up and is worrying. - Come on in.” - </p> - <p> - “You'll both excuse me for just a moment, I know,” Carson said, as if glad - of the interruption. “I'll be back presently. I haven't seen my mother - since I returned, and she is very nervous and easily excited.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0034" id="link2HCH0034"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXXIV - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0039" id="linkimage-0039"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9309.jpg" alt="9309 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9309.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - O you are the only lady member of the secret gang that stole my prisoner!” - the sheriff said, laughingly. “The boys told me all about it.” - </p> - <p> - “I wasn't taken in till they had done all the work,” Helen smiled. “I was - only an honorary addition, elected more to keep my mouth shut than for any - other service I could perform.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, <i>that</i> was it!” Braider laughed. “Well, they certainly put the - thing through. I've mixed up in a lot of hair-raising scrapes in my time, - but that kidnapping business was the brightest idea ever sprung from a - man's head. This fellow Dwight is a corker. Did he tell you what he went - through last night?” - </p> - <p> - “Not a thing,” replied Helen; “the truth is, I have an idea he was trying - to mislead me.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, he certainly was if he didn't tell you he had the hardest fight for - his life and that nigger's that ever a man made. You noticed how hoarse he - was, didn't you? That is due to it. The poor chap was up all last night - and drove the biggest part of to-day. I'll bet, strong as he is, he's as - limber as a dish-rag.” - </p> - <p> - “Then he really had trouble?” Helen breathed, heavily. - </p> - <p> - “Trouble! And he didn't mention it to you? Young men in this day and time - certainly play their cards peculiar. When I was on the carpet we boys had - a way of making the most to women folks of everything we did, and it was - generally the loudest talker that won the game. But here I find this 'town - dude,' as the country people call his sort, actually trying to make you - think he went to Chattanooga last night in a Pullman car. Good Lord, it - gives me the all-overs to think of it! I heard all about it. I met a man - who was along, and he told me the whole thing from start to finish.” - </p> - <p> - “What was it?” Helen asked, breathlessly. - </p> - <p> - “Why,” answered Braider, casting a glance towards Dwight's as if fearful - of being overheard, “I didn't know it, but somehow the mob had got wind of - what Carson intended to do, and, bless you, they were waiting for him near - the State line primed and cocked. The boy's enemies had fixed him. They - had worked the mob up to the highest pitch of fury with all sorts of tales - against Pete. They had produced men who had really heard the nigger - threaten to harm Johnson, and they themselves testified that Carson was - saving the nigger only to capture black voters as their friend and - benefactor. The mob was mad as Tucker at him for tricking them the other - night, and they certainly had it in for him.” - </p> - <p> - “They were mad at Carson <i>personally</i>, then?” Helen said. - </p> - <p> - “<i>Were</i> they? They were ready to drink his blood. They halted the - buggy, took them both out, and tied them.” - </p> - <p> - “Tied Car—” Helen's voice died away, and she stood staring at - Braider unable to speak. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, they tied them both and led them off into the woods. They then - fastened Pete to a stump and piled sticks and brush around him and told - Carson they were going to make him see them burn the boy alive and when - that was done they intended to silence his tongue by shooting him dead in - his tracks.” - </p> - <p> - Helen covered her face with her hands and stifled a groan. - </p> - <p> - “His power of gab saved him, Miss Helen,” Braider went on. “It saved them - both. It wasn't any begging, either; that wouldn't have gone with that - sort of gang. With his hands and feet tied he began to talk—that's - what ails his throat now—and the man that confessed it to me said - such rapid fire of words and argument never before rolled from human lips. - He told them he knew they would kill him; that they were a merciless band - of desperadoes; but he was going to fire some truths at them that they - would remember after he was gone, I'm no talker, Miss Helen. I can't - possibly repeat what the man told me. He said at first Carson couldn't get - their attention, but after awhile, when they were getting ready to apply - the match, something in Dwight's voice caught their ear and they paused. - He talked and talked, until a man behind him, in open defiance, cut the - cords that held his hands. Later another cut his feet loose, and then - Carson walked boldly up to Pete and stood beside him, and although a growl - of fury was still in the air he kept talking. The man that told me about - it said Carson first picked up one of the sticks around the prisoner and - hurled it from him to emphasize something he said, then another and - another, until the mob saw him kicking the sticks away and roaring out an - offer to fight the whole bunch single-handed. Gee whiz! I'd have given ten - years of my life to have heard it. He hadn't a thing to say in favor of - Pete's general character; he said the boy was an idle, fun-loving, - shiftless fellow, but he was innocent of the crime charged against him and - he should not die like a dog. He spoke of the fine characters of Pete's - mother and father and of the old woman's grief, and then, Miss Helen, he - said something about <i>you</i>, and the man that told me about it said - that one thing did more to soften and quell the crowd than anything else.” - </p> - <p> - “He said something about <i>me?</i>” Helen cried. “Me?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes; no names was mentioned, but they knew who he meant,” Braider went - on. “Carson spoke of your family and of the close bond of human sympathy - between it and all the blacks that had once belonged to your folks, and - said that the daughter of that house, the most beautiful womanly character - that had ever blessed the South, was praying at that moment for the safety - of the prisoner, and if they carried out their plans she would shed tears - of sorrow. 'Your intentions are good,' Carson said. 'You are all sincere - men acting, as you see it, in the interests of the women of the South. - Listen to this gentlewoman's prayer uttered through my mouth to-night for - mercy and human justice.' - </p> - <p> - “It fairly swept them off their feet, Miss Helen. The man that told me - about it said he never saw a more thoroughly shamed lot of men in his - life; he said they released Pete and led the horses around and stood like - mile-posts with nothing to say as Carson drove away. The man that told me - said he'd bet ninety per cent, of the gang would vote for Dwight this - fall. But I must be going; if that young buck knew I'd been telling you - all this he'd give <i>me</i> a tongue-lashing, and I don't want any of his - sort in mine.” - </p> - <p> - Helen waited for about ten minutes alone on the grass—waited for - Carson. When he finally came out and hurried towards her, he found her - with her handkerchief pressed over her eyes. - </p> - <p> - “Why, what is the matter, Helen?” he asked, in sudden concern. - </p> - <p> - She remained silent for a moment, and then with glistening eyes she looked - up at him as he stood pale and disturbed, the plaster still marking his - wound and gleaming in the starlight. - </p> - <p> - “Why didn't you tell me?” she asked, laying her hand tenderly on his arm, - her voice holding cadences of ineffable sweetness. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, Braider's been talking to you, I see!” Dwight said, with a frown of - displeasure. - </p> - <p> - “Why, didn't you tell me, Carson?” she repeated, putting her disengaged - hand on his arm and raising her appealing face till it was close to his. - </p> - <p> - He shrugged his shoulders, still frowning, and then said, flushing under - her urgent gaze: “Because, Helen, you've already seen and heard too much - of this awful stuff. It really is not fit for a gentle, sensitive girl - like you.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, Carson,” she cried, her suffused face held even closer to his, “you - are the dearest, sweetest boy in the world!” and she turned and left him, - left him alone there in his fatigue, alone under the starlight to fight as - he had never fought before the deathless yearning for her. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0035" id="link2HCH0035"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXXV. - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0040" id="linkimage-0040"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9315.jpg" alt="9315 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9315.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - WO weeks went by. Great changes had come over the temper of the insurgent - mountain people. They had gradually come to accept the rescue of Pete - Warren as a chance bit of real justice that was as admirable as it was - unusual and heroic. A sufficient number of men had come forward and - testified to Sam Dudlow's ante-mortem confession to exculpate Carson's - client, and some who had a leaning towards Dwight's cause politically were - hinting, on occasion, that surely a man who would take such a plucky stand - for the rights of a humble negro would not be a mere figure-head in the - legislature of the State. At all events, there was one man who ground his - teeth in secret rage over the subtle turn of affairs, and that man was - Wiggin. He still busied himself sowing the seditious seed of race hatred - wherever he found receptive soil, but, unfortunately for his cause, in - many places where unbridled fury had once ploughed the ground a sort of - frost had fallen. Most men whose passions are unduly wrought undergo a - certain sort of relapse, and Wiggin found many who were not so much - interested in their support of him as formerly when an open and defiant - enemy was to be defeated. - </p> - <p> - Wiggin was puzzled more about Jeff Braider than any one of his former - supporters. Braider was too good a politician to admit that he had in any - way aided Carson Dwight by a betrayal of the plot against him, for that - was exactly the sort of thing Wiggin could hold out to his constituents as - the act of a man disloyal to his official post, for, guilty or innocent, - the prisoner should have been held, as any law-abiding citizen would - admit. As to Pete's guilt Wiggin's opinion was unchanged, and he made no - bones of saying so; he believed, so he declared, that Pete was Dudlow's - accomplice, and the dastardly manner of his release was a shame and a - disgrace to any white man's community. - </p> - <p> - As for Jeff Braider, he was in such high feather over the success of his - swerving towards the right in the nick of time that he refrained from - drink and wore better clothing. He liked the situation. He felt, now, that - he could serve his country, his God, and himself with a clear conscience, - for Carson Dwight looked like a winner and they had agreed to work - together. - </p> - <p> - Helen Warren, after her impulsive leaning towards her first sweetheart - that night in the garden, had permitted herself to undergo the keenest - suffering which was due to her strangely unsettled mind. Was she strictly - honest? she asked herself. She had openly encouraged a good man to hope - that she would finally become his wife, and the letters she was receiving - from him daily were of the tenderest, most appealing nature, showing that - Sanders' love for her and faith in her fair dealing were too deeply - grounded to be easily uprooted. Besides, as he perhaps had the right to - do, the Augusta man had spoken of his hopes to his mother and sister, and - those sympathetic ladies had written Helen adroit letters which all but - plainly alluded to the “understanding” as being the forerunner of a most - welcome family event. - </p> - <p> - Many times had the poor girl seated herself to respond to these - communications, and found herself absolutely unequal to the performance in - the delicate spirit that the occasion demanded. The window of her room, at - which her writing-desk stood, looked out over the garden at Dwight's, and - the very spot where she had left Carson that memorable night was in open - view. How could she throw herself into anything, yes <i>anything</i> - pertaining to her compact with Sanders while the ever-present thrill and - ecstasy of that moment was permeating her? What had it really meant—that - ecstatic yearning to kiss the lips so close to hers, the lips which had - quivered in dumb adoration and despair as he strove to keep from her ken - the suffering he had undergone in her service? - </p> - <p> - One day she rebelled against the painful, almost morbid, state of - indecision that was on her and firmly decided that there was but one - honorable course to pursue and that was in every way to be true to her - tacit promise to the absent suitor, and in a spasm of resolution she was - about to set herself to the correspondence just mentioned when Mam' Linda - was announced. The old woman had just returned from a visit to Chattanooga - to see her son and in addition to news of his well-being she had many - other things to say. The letters would have to wait, Helen told herself, - and her old nurse was admitted. Linda remained two hours, and Helen sat - the while in a veritable dream as the old woman gave Pete's version of - Carson Dwight's conduct before the mob on the lonely mountain road. And - when Linda had gone, Helen turned to her desk. There lay the white sheets - fluttering in the summer breeze, mutely beckoning her back to stem - reality. Helen stared at them and then with a little cry of pain she - lowered her head to her folded arms and wept—not for Sanders in his - complacent, epistolary hopefulness, but for the one who had bravely borne - more than his burden of pain, and upon whom she had resolved to put still - more. Helen told herself that it would not be the first time <i>ideal</i> - happiness had not been a factor in a sensible marriage. The time would - come, in her life, as it had in the lives of so many other women, when she - would look back on her present feeling for Carson, and wonder how she ever - could have fancied—but, no, that would be unfair to him, to his - wealth of spirituality, to his gentleness, his courage to—to Carson - <i>just as he was</i>, to Carson who must always, always be the same, - different from all living men. Yes, he was to go out of her life. Out of - her life—how strange! and yet it would be so, for she would be the - <i>wife</i> of—— - </p> - <p> - She shuddered and sat staring at the floor. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0036" id="link2HCH0036"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXXVI. - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0041" id="linkimage-0041"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9319.jpg" alt="9319 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9319.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - IGGIN was no insignificant opponent; he held weapons as powerful as fire - applied to inflammable material. The papers were filled with accounts of - race rioting in all parts of the South, and in his speeches on the stump, - through the length and breadth of the county, he kept his particular - version of the bloody happenings well before his hearers. - </p> - <p> - “This is a white man's country,” was the key-note of all his hot tirades, - “and the white man is bound to rule.” He accomplished one master-stroke. - There was to be a considerable gathering of the Confederate, veterans at - an annual picnic at Shell Valley, a few miles from Springtown, and by no - mean diplomacy Wiggin had, by shrewdly ingratiating himself into the good - graces of the committee of arrangements, managed to have himself invited - as the only orator of the occasion. He meant to make it the greatest day - of the campaign, and in some respects, as will be seen he did. - </p> - <p> - The farmers came from all parts of the county in their best attire, in - their best turnouts, from plain, springless road-wagons to glittering - buggies. The wood which stretched on all sides from the spring was filled - with vehicles, horses, mules, and even oxen. - </p> - <p> - The grizzled veterans, battered as much by post-bellum hardship and toil - as by war, came with their wives, sons, and daughters, and brought baskets - to the rich contents of which any man was welcome. A crude platform had - been erected near the spring under the shadiest trees, and upon this the - speaker of the day was to hold forth. Behind the little impromptu table - holding a glass pitcher of water and a tumbler, erected for Wiggin's - special benefit, were a number of benches made of undressed boards. And to - these seats the wives and daughters of the leading citizens were invited. - </p> - <p> - Jabe Parsons, being a man of importance as a land-owner and an old - soldier, was instructed on his arrival in his rickety buggy to escort his - wife, who was gorgeously arrayed in a new green-and-red checked gingham - gown with a sunbonnet to match, to the front seat on the platform, and he - obeyed with a sort of ploughman's swagger that indicated his pride in the - possession of a wife so widely known and respected. Indeed, no woman who - had arrived—and she had come later than the rest—had caused - such a ripple of comment. Always liked for her firmness in any stand she - took in matters of church or social life, since her Amazonian rescue of - Pete Warren from the very halter of death she was even more popular. The - women of the county had not given much thought to the actual guilt or - innocence of the boy, but they wanted Mrs. Parsons—as a specimen of - their undervalued sex—to be right in that instance, as she had - always been about every other matter upon which she had stood flat-footed, - and so they all but cheered her on this first public appearance after - conduct which 'had been so widely talked about. - </p> - <p> - Really, if Wiggin could have had the reception Mrs. Parsons received from - beaming eyes and faces he would have felt that his star, which had been - rather below the horizon than above of late, had become a fixed ornament - in the political heavens. But Wiggin gave no thought to her, and there's - where he made a mistake. Women were beneath the notice of serious men, - Wiggin thought, except as a means of controlling a husband's vote, and - there he made another mistake. It would have been well for him if he could - have noticed the fires of contempt in Mrs. Parsons' eyes as he made his - way through the crowd, bowing right and left, and took his seat in the - only chair on the platform, and proceeded, of course, to take a drink of - water. - </p> - <p> - A country parson, while the multitude sat upon the grass, crude benches, - buggy-cushions, or heaps of pine needles, opened the ceremonies with a - long-winded prayer, composed of selections from all the prayers he knew by - rote and ending with something resembling a benediction. Then a young lady - was asked to recite a dramatic poem relating to the “Lost Cause,” and she - did it with such telling effect that the gray heads of the old soldiers - sank to their chests, and, in memory of camp-fire, battle-field, and - comrades left in unmarked graves, the tears flowed down furrowed cheeks - and strong forms were shaken by sobs. - </p> - <p> - It was into this holy silence that the unmoved, preoccupied Wiggin rose to - cast his burning brand. Through curtains of tears he laid his fuse to - hidden magazines of powder. - </p> - <p> - “I believe in getting right down to business,” he began, in a crisp, - rasping voice that reached well to the outskirts of the crowd. “There's - nothing today that is as important to you, fellow-citizens, as the correct - use of the ballot. I am a candidate for your votes. I mean to represent - you in the next legislature, and I don't intend to be foiled by the - tricks, lies, and underhand work of a gang of stuck-up town men who laugh - at your honest appearance and homely ways. God knows you are the salt of - the earth, and when I hear men of that stamp making fun of you behind your - backs it makes me mad. My father was a mountain farmer, and when men throw - dirt on folks of your sort they throw it into the tenderest recesses of my - being and it smarts like salt in a fresh cut.” - </p> - <p> - There was applause from a group in the edge of the crowd led by long, tall - Dan Willis, and it spread uncertainly to other parts of the gathering. - </p> -<p> -“Hit 'em, blast 'em, hit 'em, Wiggin,” a man near Willis shouted; “hit - 'em!” - </p> - <p> - “You bet I'll hit 'em, brother,” Wiggin panted, as he rolled up his - coat-sleeve and pulled down his rumpled cuff. “That's what I'm here for. - I'm here, by the holy stars, to show you people a few things which have - been overlooked. I intend to go into the history of this case. I want you - all to look back a few weeks. A gang of worthless negroes in Darley became - so bad and openly defiant in their rowdyism that they were literally - running the town. Whenever they would be hauled up before the mayor for - disgraceful conduct some old slave-holder, who used to own them or their - daddies, would come up and pay their fine and they'd be turned loose - again. The black scamps became so spoiled that whenever country people - would come in town they would laugh at them, imitate their talk, call them - po' white trash, and push them off the sidewalks. Some of you mountain men - stood it, God bless your Caucasian bones, just as long as human endurance - would let you, and then you formed a secret gang that went into Darley one - night and pulled their dives and gave them a lashing on their bare backs - that brought about a reform. As every Darley man will tell you, it - purified the very air. The negroes were put to work, and they didn't hover - like swarms of buzzards round the public square. All of which showed - plainly that the cowhide was the only corrective that the niggers knew - about or cared a cent for. Trying them in a mayor's court was elevating - them to the level of a white man, and they liked it.” - </p> - <p> - “You bet!” cried out Dan Willis, and a laugh went round which spurred - Wiggin to further flights of vituperation. - </p> - <p> - “Now to my next step in this history,” he thundered. “In that gang of - soundly thrashed scamps there were two who were chums, as I could prove by - sworn testimony. Those black fiends refused to submit passively. They - skulked around making sullen threats and trying to incite race riot. - Failing in this, what did they do? One of them, being hand in glove with - Carson Dwight, who says he's going to beat me in this election, applied to - him for a job and was sent out to Dwight's farm near to that of Abe - Johnson, who is thought—by some—to have been the leader of the - thrashing delegation. That nigger, Pete Warren, was promptly joined by his - black pal, and Johnson and his wife, one of the best women in this State, - were foully murdered in the dead hours of the night as they lay sleeping - in their beds. Who did it? <i>I</i> know who did it. <i>You</i> know who - did it. Fellow-citizens, those two niggers, with their backs still - smarting and their tongues still wagging, were the devils who did the - deed.” - </p> - <p> - Low muttering was heard throughout the crowd as men turned to one another - to make comment on the statement. In its incipiency it meant no more, - perhaps, than that reason, hard driven by rising emotion, was honestly - striving to keep the equitable poise which had recently governed it, but - it sounded to the thoughtless, inflammable element like sullen, swelling - acquiescence to the bitter charges, and they took it up. Wiggin paused, - drank from the tumbler, and watched his flashing fuse in its sinuous - course through the assemblage. - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Parsons was near the edge of the platform, and Pole Baker, rising - from the grass near by, where he had been coolly whittling a stick, - stealthily approached her. - </p> - <p> - “Great goodness, Mrs. Parsons,” he whispered in her ear, “that skunk is - cutting a wide swath to-day, sure! He could git up a lynching-bee right - here in five minutes if he had any sort of material. The only thing of the - right color is that old woman selling ginger-cakes and cider at the - spring. Don't you think I'd better slip down and tell her to go home?” - </p> - <p> - “It might save the old thing's neck,” Mrs. Parsons answered, in the same - half-amused spirit. “If he keeps on I don't think I'll be able to hold my - seat. Why don't you say something?” - </p> - <p> - “Me? Oh, I ain't no public speaker, Mrs. Parsons. That oily gab of - Wiggin's would twist me into a hundred knots, and Carson Dwight would cuss - me out for making matters worse. I never feel like talking unless I'm - drunk, and then I'm tongue-tied.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I don't git drunk and I don't git tongue-tied!” grunted Mrs. - Parsons; “and I tell you, Pole, if that fool keeps on I'll either talk or - bust.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, don't bust—we need women like you right now,” Baker smiled. - “But the truth is, if some'n' ain't done for our side this thing will - sweep Carson Dwight clean out of the field.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, because men are born fools,” retorted the woman. “Look at their - faces, the last one of them right now is mad enough to lynch a nigger - baby, and a <i>gal</i> baby at that.” - </p> - <p> - With a laugh, Pole went back to his seat on the grass for Wiggin was - thundering again. - </p> - <p> - “What happened <i>next!</i>” he demanded, bending over his table, a hand - on each end of it, his keen, alert eyes sweeping like twin search-lights - into the deeps of the countenances turned to him. “Why, just this and - nothing more. Knowing that the jack-leg lawyers of that measly town would - clog the wheels of justice for their puny fees, and hold those fiends over - for other hellishness, some of you rose and took the law into your own - hands. You jerked one to glory as quick as you laid hands on him, and part - of you were hard on the track of his mate, when my honorable opponent, not - wanting to lose the fee he was to get for pulling the case through, met - the mob and managed, by a lot of grand-stand playing and solemn promises - to see that the negro was legally tried, to put him in jail. - </p> - <p> - “Those promises he kept like the honorable gentleman he is,” Wiggin - snorted, tossing back his hair in white rage and rolling up his sleeves - again. “You know how he kept his word to the public. He organized a secret - band of his dirty associates in town, dressed 'em up like White Caps, and - they went to the jail and took the nigger out. Then they hid him in a - cellar of a store where you all buy supplies, out of the goodness of your - patriotic souls, and later sent him in a new suit of clothes to - Chattanooga, where he is now engaged in the same sort of life that he was - here, an idle, good-for-nothing, lazy tramp, who says he's as good as any - white man that ever wore shoe-leather and no doubt thinks he will some day - marry a white woman.” - </p> - <p> - The rising storm burst, and Wiggin stood above it calmly viewing it in all - its subdued and open fury. Shouts of rage rent the air. Men with blanched - faces, men with gleaming eyes, rose from their seats, as if a call to - their manhood for instantaneous action had been sounded, and walked about - muttering threats, grinding their teeth, and clinching their brawny hands. - </p> - <p> - “Ah, ha!” Wiggin bellowed; “I see you catch my idea. But I'm not through. - Just wait!” - </p> - <p> - He paused to drink again, and Pole Baker, with a grave look in his honest - eye approached the sculpturesque shape of Mrs. Parsons and nudged her. - </p> - <p> - “Did you ever in yore life?” he said; but staring him in the eyes - steadily, the woman seemed not to hear what he was saying. Her lower lip - was twitching and there was an expression of settled determination in her - eyes. Baker, wondering, moved back to his place, for Wiggin had levelled - his guns again. - </p> - <p> - “And the man that was at the head of it, what is he doing right now? Why - he's leaning back in his rocking-chair in his law-office drawing a fat - pension from his rich old daddy, taking in big fees for such legal work as - that, and fairly splitting his sides laughing at you folks, who he calls a - lot of sap-headed hillbillies, fit only for hopping clods and feeding hogs - on swill and pussley weeds. Oh, that was a picnic—that trick he and - those town rowdies put up on you! It was a gentle rebuke to you, and when - he gets to the legislature he says he—” - </p> - <p> - “Legislature be damned!” Dan Willis roared, and the crowd took up his cry. - </p> - <p> - “Oh yes, <i>you'll</i> vote him in,” Wiggin went on, with a vast air of - mock depression and reproach; “you think you won't now, but when he gets - up and tells his side of it with a forced tear or two, your women folks - will say, 'Poor boy!' and tell you what to do at the polls.” - </p> - <p> - Comprehensive applause greeted the speaker as he sat down. Hats were - thrown in the air and Dan Willis organized and gave three resounding - cheers. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0037" id="link2HCH0037"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXXVII. - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0042" id="linkimage-0042"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9328.jpg" alt="9328 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9328.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - F the audience was surprised at what next happened, what may be said of - the astounded candidate when he saw the powerful form of Mrs. Parsons rise - from her seat near him and calmly stride with the tread of an angry man to - the speaker's stand and take off her curtained bonnet and begin to wave it - up and down to indicate that she wanted them to keep their places? - </p> - <p> - “I never made a speech in my life,” she gulped—“that is, not outside - of an experience meetin'. But, people, ef this ain't an experience meeting - I never went to one. Ef the Lord God had told me Hisse'f in a blazonin' - voice from heaven that any human bein' could take such a swivelled-up, - contemptible shape as the man that's yelled at you like a sick calf - to-day, I never would have believed it. I've got a right to be heard. I - couldn't set still. It would give me St. Vitus's dance to try it ten - minutes longer. I've got a right to talk, because, friends and neighbors, - this contemptible creature has, in a roundabout way, accused <i>me</i> of - law-breaking, an'—” - </p> - <p> - “Why, madam!” Wiggin gasped, as he half rose and stared around in utter - bewilderment. “I don't even <i>know</i> you! I never laid eyes on you - before this minute—” - </p> - <p> - “Well, take a good look at me now!” Mrs. Parsons hurled at him, “for I'm - the woman that helped Pete Warren git away from the sheriff, when your - sort were after the poor, silly nigger to lynch him for a crime he had - nothin' to do with. If you are right in all your empty tirade this - morning, I'm a woman unfit for the community I live in, and if I have to - share that honor with a man of your stamp, I'll lynch myself on the first - tree I come to.” - </p> - <p> - She turned from the astounded, suddenly crestfallen speaker to the - open-mouthed audience. - </p> - <p> - “Listen to me, men, women, and children!” she thundered, in a voice that - was as steady and clear in resonance as a bell. “If there was ever a - crafty, spider-like politician on earth you have listened to him spout - to-day. He's picked out the one big sore-spot in your kind natures and - he's punched it, and jabbed it, and lacerated it with every sort of thorn - he could stick into it, till he gained his aim in makin' you one and all - so blind with rage at the black race that you are about to overlook the - good in yore own. - </p> - <p> - “There are two sides to this matter, and you would be pore excuses for men - if you jest looked at one side of it. Carson Dwight is the other - candidate, and I don't know but one thing agin his character, and that is - that he ever allowed his name to be put up along with this man's. It's a - funny sort of race, anyway—run by a greyhound and a jack-rabbit.” - </p> - <p> - A ripple of amusement passed over many faces, and there were several open - laughs over Wiggin's evident discomfiture. He started to rise, but voices - from all parts of the gathering cried out: “Sit down, Wiggin! Sit down, it - ain't yore time!” - </p> - <p> - “No, it <i>hain't</i> his time,” said Mrs. Parsons, unrolling her bonnet - like a switchman's flag and waving it to and fro. “I started to tell you - about Carson Dwight. He can't help bein' born in a rich family any more'n - I could in a pore one, but I'm here to tell you that since I had the moral - backbone to aid that nigger to git away I've thanked God a thousand times - that I did that much to help genuine justice along. I could listen to - forty million men like this candidate expound his views and it wouldn't - alter me one smidgen in the belief that Carson Dwight has acted only as a - true Christian would. He knew that nigger. He had known him, I'm told, - from childhood up. He knew the sort of black stock the boy sprung from, - an' the white family he was trained in, an' he simply didn't believe he - was guilty of that crime. Believing that, thar wasn't but one honest thing - for him to do, and that was to fight for the pore thing's rights. He knew - that most of the racket agin the boy was got up by t'other candidate, and - he set about to save the pore, beggin' darky's neck from the halter or his - body from the burning brush-heap. Did he do it at a sacrifice? Huh, answer - me that! Where did you ever see another politician on the eve of his - election that would take up such a' issue as that, infuriating nearly - every person who had promised to vote for him? Where will you find a young - man with enough stamina to stand on a horse-block over the heads of - hundreds of howling demons, and with one wound from a pistol on his brow, - darin' 'em to shoot ag'in and holdin' on like a bull-dog to the pore - cowerin' wreck at his feet?” - </p> - <p> - There was applause, slight at first, but increasing. There were, too, - under Mrs. Parson's eye many softening faces, and into them she continued - to throw her heart-felt appeal. - </p> - <p> - “You've been told this morning that Carson Dwight makes fun of us country - people. I'll admit I saw him do it once, but it was <i>only</i> once. He - made fun of a mountain chap over at Darley one circus day. The fellow had - insulted a nice country gal, and Carson Dwight made a <i>lot</i> of fun of - him. He hammered the dirty scamp's face till it looked like a ripe tomato - that the rats had been gnawin'.” - </p> - <p> - At this point there was laughter loud and prolonged. - </p> - <p> - “Now, listen,” the speaker went on. “I want you to hear something, and I - don't want you ever to forget it. I got it straight from a truthful man - who was there. The night you mountain men gathered from all sides like the - rising of the dead on Judgment Day, and got ready to march to Darley to - take that boy out of jail, the news reached Carson Dwight just an hour or - so before the appointed time. He got a few friends together and told them - if they cared for him to make one more effort to stop the trouble. - </p> -<p> -“Gentlemen, to some extent they was like you. They wasn't—I'm -told—much interested in the fate of that nigger, one way or another, -and so they sat thar in judgment over Carson Dwight, and tried to argue - 'im down. I'm told by a respectable man who was thar” (and here Pole -Baker lowered his head till his eyes were out of sight and continued to -whittle his stick) “that nothin' feazed 'im. Pity was in his big, boyish -heart, and it looked out of his eyes and clogged up his voice. They told -him it meant ruination to all his political hopes, and that it would -turn his daddy against him for good and all. But he said he didn't care. -They held out agin him a long time, and then one thing he said won 'em -over—one thing. Kin you imagine what that was, friends and neighbors? -It was this: Carson Dwight said he loved you mountain men with all his -heart; he said no better or braver blood ever flowed in human veins than -yours; he said he knew you <i>thought</i> you was right, but that you hadn't -had the chance to discover what he had found out, and that was that -Pete Warren was innocent and as harmless as a baby, and that—now, -listen!—that he knew the time would come when you'd be convinced of the -truth and carry regret for your haste to your graves. 'It is because,' -he told them, 'I want to save men that I love from remorse and sorrow -that I am in for this thing!' Fellow-citizens, that shot went home. -Those worthless 'town dudes,' as they was called just now, saved you -from committing a crime against yourselves an' God on high. Did any -human bein' ever see a better illustration than that of the duty of -enlightened folks to-day—the duty of them who, with divine sight, see -great truths—to lead others in the right direction? As God Almighty -smiles over you to-day in this broad sunlight, that gang in that store, -headed by a new Joseph, was an' are the truest and best friends you ever -had.” - </p> - <p> - There was no open applause, but Mrs. Parsons saw something in the melting - faces before her that was infinitely more encouraging, and after a - moment's pause, and leaning slightly on the table, she went on: “Before I - set down, I want to say one word about this big race question, anyway. I'm - just a plain woman, but I read papers an' I've thought about it a lot. We - hear some white folks say that the education the niggers are now gettin' - is the prime cause of so much crime amongst the blacks—they say this - in spite of the fact that it is always the uneducated niggers that commit - the rascality. No, my friends, it ain't education that's the cause, it is - <i>the lack</i> of it. Education ain't just what is learnt in - school-books. It is anything that makes folks higher an' better. Before - the war niggers was better educated, for they had the education that come - from bein' close to the white race an' profitin' by the'r example. After - slavery was abolished the poor, simple numskulls, great, overgrown, - fun-lovin' children, was turned loose without advice or guidin' hand, an' - the worst part of 'em went downhill. Slavery was education, and I'll bet - the Lord had a hand in it, for it has lifted a race from the jungles of - Africa to a civilized land full of free schools. So I say, teach 'em the - difference between right an' wrong, an' then let 'em work out their own - salvation. - </p> -<p> -“Who in the name of common-sense is to do this if it ain't you of the -superior race? <i>But!</i> wait a minute, think! How can you possibly teach - 'em what law an' order is without knowin' a little about it yourselves? -How can you learn a nigger what justice means when he sees his brother, -son, or father, shot dead in his tracks or hung, like a scare-crow to -the limb of a tree because some lower grade black man a hundred miles -off has committed a dastardly deed? No sensible white man ever thought -of puttin' the two races on equality. The duty of the white blood is -always to keep ahead of the black, and it will. This candidate openly -declares that the time is coming when the negroes will overpower the -whites. A man that has as poor an opinion of his own race as that ought -to be kicked out of it. Now I can't vote, but I want every woman in -this crowd that believes I know what I'm talkin' about to see that her -brother, father, or husband votes for a member of the legislature that -knows what law an' order means, an' not for a red-handed anarchist who -would lay this country in ruins to gain his own puny aims. That's all -I've got to say.” - </p> - <p> - When she had finished there was still no applause. They had learned that - it was unseemly to make a demonstration at church, when deeply moved by a - sermon, and they had heard something to-day that had lifted them as high - under her sway as they had sunken low under Wiggin's. The formal part of - the exercises was over, and they proceeded to spread out the contents of - their baskets. Wiggin, after his successful ascent, had fallen with - something like a thud. He saw Mrs. Parsons helped from the platform by her - proudly flushing husband and instantly surrounded by people anxious to - offer congratulations. Wiggin shuddered for he stood quite alone. Those - who were in sympathy with him seemed afraid to openly signify it. Even Dan - Willis lurked back under the trees, his face flushed with liquor and - inward rage. - </p> - <p> - Pole Baker, however, was more thoughtful of the candidate's comfort. With - a queer twinkle of amusement in his eyes, and polishing, with the - dexterity of a carver of cherry-stones, his little stick, he approached - the candidate. - </p> - <p> - “Say, Wiggin,” he drawled out, “I want to ax you a question.” - </p> - <p> - “All right, Baker, what is it?” the candidate asked, absent-mindedly. - </p> - <p> - “Don't you remember tellin' me,” Pole began, “that you never had in all - yore life met a man that made better an' truer predictions about things to - come than I did?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I think so, Baker—yes, I remember now,” answered Wiggin. “You - do seem to have a head that way. Some men have more than others, a sort of - foresight or intuition.” - </p> - <p> - Pole chuckled. “You remember I said Teddy Rusefelt would whip the socks - off of Parker. I'm a Democrat an' always will be, but I kin see things - that are goin' to be agin me as plain as them I'm prayin' for. Well, you - remember I was called a traitor jest beca'se I told what was comin', but I - hit the nail on the head, didn't I?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, you did,” admitted the downcast candidate. - </p> - <p> - “An' I was right about the majority Towns would git for the State senate, - Mayhew for solicitor, an' Tim Bloodgood for the last legislature.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, you were, I remember that,” said Wiggin. - </p> - <p> - “I hit it on the Governor's race to a gnat's heel, too, didn't I?” Pole - pursued, his keen eyes fixed on those of the man before him. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, you did,” admitted Wiggin; “you really seem to have remarkable - foresight.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, then,” said Baker, “I've got a prediction to make about your race - agin Carson Dwight.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, you have!” exclaimed Wiggin, now all attention. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, and this time I'd bet my two arms and the first joint of my right - leg agin a pinch o' snuff that Carson'll beat you worse than a man was - ever whipped in his life.” - </p> - <p> - “You think so, Baker?” Wiggin was trying to sneer. - </p> - <p> - “I don't think anything about it; I <i>know</i> it,” said Pole. - </p> - <p> - Wiggin stared at the ground a moment aimlessly, then he said, doggedly, - and yet with an evident desire for information at any sort of - fountain-head: “What makes you think I'm beat, Baker?” - </p> - <p> - “Because you've showed you hain't no politician, an' you've got a born one - to beat. For one thing, you've stirred up a hornet's nest. Women, when - they set the'r heads agin a'body, are devils in petticoats, an' the one - that presided this mornin' has got more influence than forty men. Before - you are a day older every man who has a wife, mother, or sweetheart will - be afraid to speak to you in broad daylight. Then ag'in, no candidate ever - won a race on a platform of pure hate an' revenge. You made that crowd as - mad as hell just now, while you was belchin' out that stuff, but as soon - as Sister Parsons showed 'em what a friend of the'rs Dwight was they - melted to him like thin snow after a rain.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0038" id="link2HCH0038"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXXVIII. - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0043" id="linkimage-0043"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9337.jpg" alt="9337 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9337.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - NE morning, three days later, Pole Baker slouched down the street from the - wagon-yard and went into Garner & Dwight's office, finding Garner at - his desk. The mountaineer looked cautiously about the room and asked, in a - guarded tone: “Is Carson anywhars about?” - </p> - <p> - “Not down yet,” Garner said. “His mother was not so well last night, and - it may be that he had to sit up with her and has overslept himself.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I'm glad he ain't here,” Baker said, “for I want to speak to you - about him sorter in private.” - </p> - <p> - “Anything gone wrong?” Garner asked, looking up curiously. - </p> - <p> - “Well, not yet, Bill, but I believe in takin' the bull by the horns before - he takes you in the stomach. I've been powerful afeared for some time that - Carson and Dan Willis would run together, and I dread it now more than - ever. In the first place, I don't like the look in Carson's eye. He knows - that devil has been on his track, and it has worked him up powerful; - besides, Willis is more rampant than ever.” - </p> - <p> - “What's gone wrong with him?” Garner inquired, uneasily. - </p> - <p> - “Well, for a while, you know, he was full of hope that Wiggin was goin' to - beat Carson, and that sorter satisfied him, but now that Wiggin is losin' - ground, Dan don't see revenge that way. Besides, since old Sister Parsons - made that rip-roarin' speech respectable folks are turnin' the'r backs on - Wiggin and all his backers. The gal Willis was to marry has throwed 'im - clean over, an' the preacher at Hill Crest just as good as called his name - out in meetin' in talkin' of the open lawlessness that is spreadin' over - the land. Oh, Willis is mad—he's got all hell in 'im, an' he's - makin' more threats agin Dwight. Now, to-morrow is Friday, an' the next - day is Saturday, an' on Saturday Dan Willis is comin' in town. I got that - straight. Wiggin is a snake in the grass, and he's constantly naggin' Dan - about his row with Carson, and it will take slick work on our part to - prevent serious trouble. Wiggin wouldn't care. If the two met he'd profit - either way, for if Carson was killed he'd have the field to himself, an' - if Carson killed Willis the boy'd have to stand trial for his life, an' a - man wouldn't run much of a political race with a charge of bloody murder - hangin' over 'im.” - </p> - <p> - “True—true as Gospel!” Garner frowned; “but what plan had you in - mind, Pole—I mean what plan to obviate trouble?” - </p> - <p> - “Why, you see,” the mountaineer replied, “I 'lowed you might be able to - trump up some business excuse for gittin' Carson out o' town next - Saturday.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I think I can,” Garner cried, his eyes brightening. “The truth is, - I was to go myself over to see old man Purdy, the other side of - Springtown> to take his deposition in an important matter, but I can - pretend to be tied here and foist it onto Carson.” - </p> - <p> - “Good; that's the stuff!” Pole said, with a smile of satisfaction. “But - for the love of mercy don't let Dwight dream what's in the wind or he'd - die rather than budge an inch.” - </p> - <p> - So it was that Carson the following Friday afternoon made his preparations - for a ride on horseback through the country, his plan being to spend the - night at the little hotel at Springtown and ride on to Purdy's farm the - next morning after breakfast, and return to Darley Saturday evening - shortly after dark. His horse stood at the hitching-rack in front of the - office, and, ready for his journey, he was going out when Garner called - him back. - </p> - <p> - “Are you armed, my boy?” Garner questioned. - </p> - <p> - “Not now, old man,” Dwight said. “I've carried that two pounds of cold - metal on my hip till I got tired of it and left it in my room. If I can't - live in a community without being a walking arsenal I'll leave the - country.” - </p> - <p> - “You'd better make an exception of to-day, anyhow,” Garner said, reaching - down into the drawer of his desk. “Here, take my gun.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I might accidentally need it,” Dwight said, thoughtfully, as he - took the weapon and put it into his pocket. - </p> - <p> - As he was unfastening his horse, Dr. Stone crossed the street from the - opposite sidewalk and approached him. - </p> - <p> - “Where are you off to this time?” the old man asked. - </p> - <p> - Carson explained as he tightened the girth of his saddle and pulled the - blanket into place. - </p> - <p> - “Well, I'd get back as soon as I could well manage it,” the physician - said, his eyes on the ground. Carson started and looked grave. - </p> - <p> - “Why, doctor, you are not afraid—” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, she's doing very well, my boy, but—well, there is no use - keeping back anything from anybody as much concerned as you are. The truth - is, she's very low. I think we can pull her through all right, with care - and attention, but I feel that I ought to warn you and lecture you a - little, too. You see, as I've often said, she is a woman who suffers - mightily from worry and excitement of any kind, and your adventures of - late have not had the best effect on her health. I hope it's all over and - that you will settle down to something more steady. Her life really is in - your hands more than mine, for if you should have any more trouble of a - serious nature it would simply kill her. I only mention this,” the doctor - continued, laying his hand on the young man's arm half apologetically, - “because there is some little talk going round that you and Dan Willis - haven't quite settled your differences yet. If I were in your place, - Carson, I'd take a good deal from that man before I'd have trouble with - him right now, considering the critical condition your mother is in. A - shooting-scrape on top of all the rest, even if you got-the best of it, - would simply send that good woman to her grave.” - </p> - <p> - “Then we won't have any shooting-scrape!” Carson said, his voice - quivering. “You can depend on that, doctor.” - </p> - <p> - The road Dwight took as the most direct way to his destination really - passed within two miles of the home of Dan Willis, and yet the likelihood - of his meeting the desperado never once crossed Carson's mind. In this, - however, he was to meet with surprise. He had got well into the mountains, - and, full of hope as to his campaign, was heartily enjoying a slow ride on - his ambling horse through a narrow, shaded road, after leaving the heat of - the open thoroughfare, when far ahead of him he saw a horseman at the side - of the way pinning with his pocket-knife to the smooth bark of a - sycamore-tree a white envelope. The distance was at first too great for - Dwight to recognize the rider, though his object and occupation were soon - evident, for suddenly wheeling on his rather skittish mount the man drew - back about twenty paces from the tree, drew a revolver and began to fire - at the target, sending one shot after the other, as rapidly as he could - rein and spur his frightened animal to an approved distance and - steadiness, until his weapon was empty. The marksman, evidently a - mountaineer, as indicated by his wide-brimmed soft hat and easy gray - shirt, thrust his hand into his trousers-pocket and took out sufficient - cartridges for another round, and was thumbing them dexterously into their - places when Carson drew near enough to recognize him. - </p> - <p> - A thrill, a sort of shock, certainly not due even to subconscious fear, - passed over Dwight, and he almost drew upon his rein. Then a hot flush of - shame rose in him and tingled through every nerve in his body, as he - wondered if for one instant he could have feared the presence of any - living man, armed or unarmed, and running his hand behind him to be sure - that his own revolver was in place, and with his head well up he rode even - more briskly forward. He had no thought of caution. The sharp warning Dr. - Stone had given him so recently never entered his brain. That was the man - who, on several occasions, had threatened to kill him, and who, Carson - firmly believed, had once tried it. That there was to be grim trouble he - did not doubt. Averting it after the manner of a coward was not thought - of. - </p> - <p> - When the two riders were about a hundred yards apart, Dan Willis, hearing - the fall of horses' hoofs, looked up suddenly. There was no mistaking the - evolution of his facial expression from startled bewilderment to that of - angry, bestial satisfaction. Uttering an unctuous grunt of delight, and - with his revolver swinging easily against his brawny thigh, by the aid of - his tense left hand the mountaineer drew his horse squarely into the very - middle of the narrow road and there essayed to check him. The animal, - quivering with excitement from the shots just fired over his head, was - still restive and swerved tremblingly from side to side, but with prodding - spur and fierce command Willis managed to keep him in the attitude of open - opposition to Carson's passage, which was, as things go in the mountains, - a threat not to be misunderstood. - </p> - <p> - Carson Dwight read the action well, and his blood boiled. - </p> - <p> - “Halt thar!” Dan Willis suddenly called out, in a sharp, fierce tone, and - as he spoke he raised his revolver till the hand holding it rested on the - high pommel of his saddle. - </p> - <p> - “Why should I halt?” almost to his surprise rang clearly from Dwight's - lips. “This is a public road!” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0044" id="linkimage-0044"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0343.jpg" alt="0343 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0343.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - “Not for <i>yore</i> sort,” was hurled back. “It's entirely too narrow for - a gentleman an' a dog to pass on. <i>I'm</i> goin' to pass, but I'll walk - my hoss over yore body. I've been praying for this chance, an' God or - Hell, one or t'other, sent it to me. Some folks say you've got grit. I've - my doubts about it, for you are the hardest man to meet I ever wanted to - settle with, but if you've got any sand in yore gizzard you've got a - chance to spill some of it now.” - </p> - <p> - “I don't want to have trouble with you,” Dwight controlled himself enough - to say. “Bloodshed is not in my line.” - </p> - <p> - “But you've <i>got</i> to fight!” Willis roared. “If you don't I'll ride - up to you an' spit in yore damned, sneakin' face.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I hardly think you'll do that,” said Carson, his rage overwhelming - him. “But before we go into this thing tell me, for my own satisfaction if - you are the one who tried to kill me the night Pete Warren was jailed.” - </p> - <p> - “You bet I was, and damned sorry I missed.” Willis's revolver was raised. - The sharp click of the hammer sounded like the snapping of a metallic - twig. Then alive but to one thought, and that of alert and instantaneous - self-preservation, Dwight quickly drew his weapon. With his teeth ground - together, his breath coming fast, he took as careful aim as was possible - at the shifting horseman, conscious of the advantage his antagonist had - over him in the calmness of his own mount. He saw a puff of smoke before - Willis's eyes, heard the sharp report of the mountaineer's revolver, and - wondered if the ball had lodged in his body. - </p> - <p> - “I am fully justified,” something within him seemed to say as he pressed - the trigger of his revolver. His hand had never been more steady, his aim - never better, and yet the smile and taunting laugh of Willis proved to him - that he had missed. The eyes of his assailant gleamed like those of an - infuriated beast as he tried to steady his rearing and plunging horse to - shoot again. Once more he fired, but the shot went wild, and with a snort - of fear his horse broke from the road and plunged madly into the bushes - bordering the way. Carson could just see Willis's head and shoulders above - a thick growth of wild vines and at these he aimed steadily and fired. Had - he won? he asked himself. There was a smothered report from Willis's - revolver, as if it were fired by an inert finger. The mountaineer's head - sank out of sight. What did it mean? Carson wondered, and with his weapon - still cocked and poised he grimly waited. It was only for an instant, for - the frightened horse plunged out into the open again. Willis was still in - the saddle, but what was it about him that seemed so queer? He was - evidently making an effort to guide his horse, but the hand holding his - revolver hung helplessly against his thigh; his left shoulder was sinking. - Then Carson caught sight of his face, a frightful, blood-packed mask - distorted past recognition, that of a dying man—a horrible, - never-to-be-forgotten grimace. The horses bore the antagonists closer - together; their eyes met in a direct stare. Willis's body was rocking like - a mechanical thing on a pivot. - </p> - <p> - “You forced me to do it!” Carson Dwight said, his great soul rising to - heights of pity and dismay never reached before. “God knows I did not want - to shoot you. Dan, I never have had anything against you. I would have - avoided this if I could.” - </p> - <p> - The stare of the wounded man flickered. With a moan of pain he bent to the - neck of his horse and remained there a moment, and then, dropping his - revolver and resting both quivering hands on the pommel of his saddle, he - drew himself partially erect. His eyes were rolling upward, his purple - lips moved as if to speak, but his vocal organs seemed to have lost their - power. Holding to his pommel with his left hand, he raised his right and - partially extended it towards Dwight, but he had not the strength to - sustain its weight, and with another moan, a frothing at the mouth, Dan - Willis toppled from his horse and went to the ground, the animal breaking - away in alarm and running down the road. - </p> - <p> - Quickly dismounting, Carson bent over the dying man. “Dan, were you - offering me your hand?” he asked, tenderly. But there was no response. The - mountaineer was dead. There he lay, a pint whiskey flask nearly empty of - its contents protruding from his shirt. - </p> - <p> - Carson looked up and about him. The sky had never seemed clearer, the - forest never so beautifully lush and green, so full of sylvan recesses and - the gladsome songs of birds. Higher and more majestic never had the - mountains seemed to tower into God's infinite blue. And yet here at his - feet lay the remains of one who had been created in the image of his - Maker, as lifeless as the clod from which he had sprung. All <i>this</i>—and - Carson's horse nibbling with bitted mouth the short grass which grew - about. There were no fires of satisfied revenge at which the spiritually - chilled young man could warm himself. Regret steeped in the vat of remorse - filled his young soul. Seating himself at the side of the road, he - remained there a long time calmly laying his plans. Of course, knowing the - law as he knew it, he would give himself up to the sheriff. Then with a - start and a shock of horror he thought of his mother. Dr. Stone's warning - now loomed up before him as if written in letters of fire. Yes, this—this, - of all things, would kill her! Knowing her nature, nothing that could - happen to him would be more fatal. Not even his own death by violence - would hold such terrors for her sensitive, imaginative temperament, which - exaggerated every ill or evil that beset his path. After all, he grimly - asked himself, which way did his real duty lie? Obedience to the law he - reverenced demanded that he throw himself upon its slow and creaking - routine, and yet was there not a higher tribunal? By what right should the - legal machinery of his or any other country require the life of a stricken - woman that the majesty of its forms might be upheld and the justice or - injustice to an outlaw who had persistently hounded him be formally passed - upon? - </p> - <p> - No, he told himself, the right to protect his mother was <i>his</i>—it - was even more, as he saw it, it was his first duty. And yet if he kept his - own counsel, he asked himself, his legal mind now active, what were the - chances of escape from accusation? Noticing the target still pinned to the - trunk of the tree with the dead man's pocket-knife, the shots showing on - the bark and paper, and the sprawling attitude of the corpse with the - wound over the region of the heart, he asked himself, with faintly rising - hope, what more natural than to assume that death had resulted from - accident? What more reasonable than the theory that on his frightened - horse Dan Willis had accidentally directed his shot upon his own body? - What better evidence that he was not at himself than the almost empty - flask in his shirt? Yes, Carson Dwight decided, it was his duty to wait at - least to see further before taking a step which would result in even - deeper tragedy. Besides, he knew he was morally guiltless. His conscience - was clear; there was consolation in that at all events. But now what must - he do? To go on to Springtown by that road was out of the question, for - only a mile or so farther on was a store and a few farm-houses, and it - would be known there that he had passed the fatal spot. So, remounting, he - rode slowly back towards Darley, now earnestly, and even craftily, hoping - that he would meet no one. He was successful, for he reached the main - road, which was longer, not so well graded, and a more sparsely settled - thoroughfare to his destination. - </p> - <p> - He had lost time, and he now put his horse into a brisk canter and sped - onward with a queer blending of emotions. The thought of possibly saving - his mother from a terrible shock buoyed him up while the grewsome - happening put a weight upon him he had never borne before. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0039" id="link2HCH0039"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXXIX - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0045" id="linkimage-0045"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9350.jpg" alt="9350 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9350.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - T was after dark when he finally reached Springtown and rode through the - quiet little street to the only hotel in the village kept by a certain Tom - Wyman, whom Dwight knew. Dismounting, he turned his tired horse over to a - negro porter and went into the room which was used at once as parlor and - office. A dog-eared account-book lay open on a table, and here, at the - request of the cordial Wyman, a short, portly man with sandy hair and - mustache, Carson registered his name. - </p> - <p> - “You are out electioneering, I know,” the proprietor smiled, agreeably, as - he rubbed his fat hands together. “Well, you are going to run like a - scared dog. I hear your name everywhere. It looked as black as Egyptian - darkness for you once, but you are gaining ground. No man ever had a - better campaign document than the speech Jabe Parsons' wife made. Gee - whiz! it was a stem-winder; it set folks to laughin' at Wiggin, and that - was the worst thing that ever happened to him. Jabe Parsons is for you - now, though he headed one wing of the mob agin your pet darky. You see, - Jabe wants to prove that his wife was right in the way she first felt - about the matter, and he's a strong man.” - </p> - <p> - As if in a dream, so far into the background had even his contest been - thrust by the tragedy, Carson heard himself as if from the mouth of - another explaining that it was legal business that had brought him - thither, and calmly asking the best road from the village to Purdy's farm, - whither he intended to go the following morning after breakfast. - </p> - <p> - A few minutes later the supper bell was rung by a negro, who carried it - with deafening clangor through the main hall and round the house, and two - or three drummers, of the small-trade class, a village storekeeper, and a - stock-drover or two clattered in on the uncarpeted floor to the - dining-room, and with more noise drew out their chairs and sat down. It - happened that Carson knew none of them, and so he sat silent through the - meal. Usually of robust appetite, to-night all inclination to physical - nourishment had deserted him. Try as he would to fasten his mind upon more - cheerful things, the view of Dan Willis's body stretched upon the ground, - the ghastly features struggling in the throes of death, came again and - again before his eyes with tenacious persistency. Morbidly, he asked - himself if that state of mind would continue always. The disaster really - had crept upon him through no deliberate fault of his. In fact, he could - trace its very beginning to his determination to turn over a new leaf and - make a better man of himself—to that and to a natural inborn pity - for a persecuted creature, and yet here was he, his hands stained red, - unable by any stoicism or philosophy to rid himself of a gloom as deep as - the void of space. Genuine man that he was, he pitied the giant who had - fallen before him. His mind, trained to logical reasoning in most matters, - told him that he was more than justified in what he had done; but then, if - so, to what was due this strange shock to his whole being—this - restless sense of boundless debt to something never met before, the - ominous flapping of wings in a new darkness around him? - </p> - <p> - After supper, to kill time until the hour of retiring, Carson declined the - proffered cigar of his host, and to avoid the—to him—empty - chatter of the others, now assembled on the little porch, he strolled down - the street. Here groups of men sat in front of the stores in the dim light - thrown from murky lamps within, but it happened that he was not recognized - by any of them though there were several gaunt forms he knew, and he - passed on, walking feverishly. On and on he strode till he had covered - more than a mile and suddenly came upon a little church surrounded by a - graveyard. He leaned upon the rotten fence and looked over at the mounds - marked by white marble slabs in some cases, plain, unlettered natural - stones in others, and some unmarked by any sort of monument, but having - little white palings around them. - </p> - <p> - Carson Dwight shuddered and turned his face back towards the village as he - asked himself if this might be the resting-place of the man he had slain. - Life to him had been so bounteous, despite all the trials he had - encountered, that to think that he had by his own hand, even under gravest - provocation, deprived a human being of its privileges gave him pain akin - to nothing he had ever felt before. - </p> - <p> - Reaching his room in the hotel, which was at the head of the stairs in the - front part of the house, his first impulse was to lock his door—why, - he could not have explained. It was not fear; what was it? With a defiant - smile he left it unfastened and proceeded to undress himself. As he threw - himself on his bed he became conscious of the impulse to say his prayers. - What a queer thing! It had been years since he had actually knelt in - prayer, and yet tonight he wanted to do so. A strange, hot, rebellious - mood came over him a few minutes later as he lay staring at the disk on - the sky-blue ceiling cast by the lamp-chimney. He felt like crying out to - the infinite powers in tones of demand to lift the weird, stifling pall - that was pressing down on him. - </p> - <p> - The words his father had spoken in a rage when the old gentleman had first - seen the wound on his forehead after Pete Warren's rescue now came to him - with startling force: “All this for a trifling negro! Have you lost your - senses?” - </p> - <p> - What, Carson asked himself, would his father say to this deeper step—this - headlong plunge into misfortune as the outcome of the cause he had - espoused? - </p> - <p> - Carson could not sleep, and fancying that if his light were out he might - do so, he rose and extinguished it and went back to bed. But he was still - restless. The hours dragged by. It was after twelve o'clock, when on the - still night air came the steady beat of a horse's hoofs in the distance, - growing louder and louder, till with a cry of “Woah!” the animal was - reined in at the hotel door, and the stentorian voice of the rider called - out: “Hello! hello in thar!” - </p> - <p> - There was a pause, but no response. The landlord was evidently a sound - sleeper. - </p> - <p> - “Hello! hello!” Again the call rang jarringly through the empty hall below - and up the stairway. - </p> - <p> - Carson sat erect, put his feet on the floor, and stood out in the centre - of the room. He told himself that it was an officer of the law in pursuit - of him. How silly to have imagined that such a thing could remain hidden! - And his mother! Yes, it would kill her! Poor, poor, gentle, frail woman! - He had tried to obviate the blow, resorting to deception, to actual - flight; he had submerged himself in the mire of criminal secrecy, - according to the letter of the law, that he might shield her, and for what - purpose? Yes, the blow would kill her. Dr. Stone had plainly said so. - </p> - <p> - He went to the window and looked out. At the gate below he saw a man on a - horse, and heard him muttering impatiently. - </p> - <p> - “Hello in Thar!” The cry was accompanied by an oath. “Are you-uns plumb - deaf? What do you keep a tavern fur, anyhow?” - </p> - <p> - There was a sound in the room below of some one getting out of bed, and - then a drowsy voice cried: “Who's there?” It was the landlord. - </p> - <p> - “Me, Jim Purvines. Let me in, Tom. I've got to have a bed an' a stall fer - my nag. I'm completely fagged out.” - </p> - <p> - “All right, all right. I'll join you in a minute. Where in the thunder - have you been, Jim?” - </p> - <p> - “To the inquest. They made me serve. Samson called a jury right off so - they could move the body home. The dead man's mammy didn't want it to lie - thar all night.” - </p> - <p> - “Good Lord! Jury? Dead man? Why, what's happened, Jim?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, come off! You don't mean you hain't heard the news?” The rider had - dismounted and was leading his horse through the gate to the steps on - which the landlord now stood. “Why, Tom, Dan Willis has gone to his last - accountin'. The Webb children, out pickin' huckleberries, come across his - remains on the Treadwell road a mile t'other side o' Wilks's store. At - first it was thought he'd met his death by bein' throwed from his colt, - fer somebody seed it loose with saddle an' bridle on, but when we examined - the body we found a bullet-hole over the heart.” - </p> - <p> - “Good Lord! Who done it, Jim?” - </p> - <p> - Carson's heart was in his mouth; his breath was held; there was a pause - which seemed without end. - </p> - <p> - “Done it hisself, Tom. The jury had no difficulty comin' to that decision - from ample evidence. He'd tuck his pocket-knife an' stuck up an envelope - with his name on it agin a tree, an', half drunk, as we judged from his - flask, he was shootin' at it over the head of a young colt that hain't - been broke a month. Dan must have had the devil in 'im, an' was determined - to train the animal to stand under fire, fer we seed whar the dirt was - pawed up powerful all around. We calculated that the colt got to buckin' - an' to keep from bein' throwed off Dan turned his gun the wrong way. - Anyhow, he's no more.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, an' I reckon a body ought to respect the dead, good or bad,” said - the landlord; “but there won't be a river of tears shed, Jim. That fellow - was a living threat to law and order.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I have heard that he was the chap that shot Carson Dwight the night - he saved that nigger from the mob.” - </p> - <p> - “Sh! He's up-stairs now,” The landlord lowered his voice. - </p> - <p> - “You don't say! Sort o' out of his beat, ain't he?” - </p> - <p> - “I don't know—on his way to Purdy's. Go on in; I'll attend to your - horse and come back and find you a place to bunk.” - </p> - <p> - Carson sank back on his bed. A sense of vast, almost soothing relief was - on him. His mother was saved. The verdict that had been rendered would - forever bury the facts. Now, he told himself, he could sleep with his mind - at rest. And yet— - </p> - <p> - He heard the new-corner ascend the stairs with heavy, shambling tread and - enter the room adjoining his own. Through a crack between the floor and - the thin partition he saw a pencil of candle-light and heard the grinding - of boot-soles on the floor as the man undressed. Then the light went out, - the bed-slats creaked, and all was still. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0040" id="link2HCH0040"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XL - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0046" id="linkimage-0046"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9357.jpg" alt="9357 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9357.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - WIGHT reached Darley the following evening shortly after dusk, and rode - straight through the central portion of the town and past his office. All - day long he had debated with himself whether it would be wise to take - Garner into his confidence, and at last had decided that it would do no - good, and only cause his sympathetic partner to worry needlessly, since - Garner nor no one else could point out any better course than the one to - which, perforce, he had committed himself. Carson now comprehended his - insistent morbidness. It was not fear; it was not a guilty conscience; it - was only the galling shackles of unwonted and hateful secrecy, the vague - and far-reaching sense of uncertainty, the knowledge of being, before the - law (which was no respecter of persons, circumstances, or sentiment), as - guilty of murder as any other untried violator of peace and order. - </p> - <p> - On the way down the street to his home he met Dr. Stone, who was also - riding, and reined in. - </p> - <p> - “My mother—how is she, doctor?” he asked. “I've been away since I - saw you yesterday.” - </p> - <p> - “You'll really be surprised when you see her,” the old man smiled. “She's - tip-top! I never saw such a change for the better in all my experience. - She had old Linda in her room when I was there about noon, and they were - laughing and cracking jokes at a great rate. She'll pull through now, my - boy. I tried to get her to tell me what had happened, but she threw me off - with the joke that she had changed doctors and was taking another fellow's - medicine on the sly, and then she and Linda laughed together. I believe - the old negro knew what she meant. I'll tell you one thing, Carson, if I - wasn't afraid of hurting your pride I'd congratulate you on what happened - to that chap Willis. Really, if that thing hadn't taken place you and he - would have had trouble. Some think he was getting ready for you when he - was shooting at that target.” - </p> - <p> - “Perhaps so, doctor,” Carson said, glad that the dusk veiled his face from - the old man's sight. “Well, I'll go on.” - </p> - <p> - At the carriage gate at home he found old Lewis standing ready to take his - horse. - </p> - <p> - “Hello!” Carson said, with a joke that was foreign to his mood; “when did - Major Warren discharge you?” - </p> - <p> - “Hain't discharge me yit, young marster,” Lewis smiled, in delight, as he - opened the gate and reached out for the bridle. “I knowed you'd be along - soon, en so I waited fer you. Marse Carson, Linda powerful anxious ter see - you. She settin' on yo'-all's veranda-step now; she been axin' is you got - back all evenin'. Dar she come now, young marster. I'll put up yo' horse.” - </p> - <p> - “All right, Uncle Lewis,” and Dwight, seeing the old woman shambling - towards him, went across the lawn and met her. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, young marster, I been waitin' fer you,” she said. “I got some'n' ter - ax you, suh.” - </p> - <p> - “What is it?” he asked: “If it is anything I can do I'll be glad to help - you.” - </p> - <p> - “I don't like ter bother you, young marster,” Linda said, plaintively; - “but somehow it don't seem lak anybody know what ter do. I went ter young - miss, en she said fer me ter see you—dat you was de onliest one ter - decide. Marse Carson, of course you done heard dat man Willis done killed - hisse'f, ain't you?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh yes, Mam' Linda—oh yes!” Dwight said, his voice holding an odd, - submerged quality. - </p> - <p> - “Well, young marster, you see, me'n Lewis thought dat, bein' as dat man - was de ringleader, en de only one left on de rampage after my boy, dat, - now he's daid, I might sen' ter Chattanoogy fer Pete en let 'im come on - home.” - </p> - <p> - “Why, I thought he was doing well up there?” Carson said again, in a tone - which to himself sounded as expressionless as if spoken only from the - lips. - </p> - <p> - “Dat so; dat so, too,” Linda sighed; “but, Marse Carson, he de onliest - child I got en I wants 'im wid me. I wants 'im whar I kin see 'im en try - ter 'fluence 'im ter do what's right. In er big place lak Chattanoogy he - may git in mo' trouble, en—” She went no further, her voice growing - tremulous and finally failing. - </p> - <p> - “Well, send for him, by all means,” Dwight said. “He'll be all right here. - We'll find something for him to do.” - </p> - <p> - “En, en—dar won't be no mo' trouble?” Linda faltered. - </p> - <p> - “None in the world now, mammy,” he replied. “The people all over the - country are thoroughly satisfied that he's innocent. No one will even - appear against him. He is all right now.” - </p> - <p> - Tears welled up in Linda's eyes and she wiped them off on her apron. - “Thank God, young marster; one time I thought I never would want ter live - another minute, en yit right now—right now I'm de happiest woman in - de whole world, en you done it, young marster. You stood up fer er po' old - nigger 'oman when de world was turn agin 'er, en God on high know I bless - you. I bless you in every prayer I sen' up.” - </p> - <p> - He turned from her as she stood wiping her eyes and went on to his - mother's room, finding her, to his delight, sitting up in an easy-chair - near the table on which stood a lamp and a book she had been reading. - </p> - <p> - “Did you see Linda?” Mrs. Dwight asked, as he kissed her tenderly and - stood, still with that everpresent alien weight at his heart, stroking her - soft cheek. He nodded and smiled. - </p> - <p> - “And did you tell her—did you decide that Pete could come back?” - </p> - <p> - He nodded and smiled again. “She seems to think I'm running the country.” - </p> - <p> - “As far as her interests are concerned, you <i>have</i> been,” the invalid - said, proudly. “Oh, Carson, you know somehow it has happened that I never - knew Linda so well as some of our own slaves, but since this thing came up - I have thoroughly enjoyed having her come to see me. I keep her here - hours, at a time. Do you know why?” - </p> - <p> - He shook his head. “Not unless it is because she has such a strong - individuality and is so original.” - </p> - <p> - “No, that isn't it—it is simply, my boy, because she worships the - very ground you walk on, and I love to hear her express it in the - thousands of indirect ways she has. Oh, Carson, I'm simply foolish—<i>foolish</i> - about you! I have never been able to tell you how I felt about your heroic - conduct. I was afraid to. I gloried in it, but your constant danger tied - my tongue—I was afraid you'd take more risks. I've got a secret to - tell you.” - </p> - <p> - “To tell me?” he said, still stroking her cheek. “Yes; Dr. Stone, seeing - that I was so much better this morning tried to worm it out of me, but I - wouldn't tell him the cause. Carson, for a long time I have harbored a - gnawing, secret fear. It was with me night and day. I knew it was dragging - me down, keeping me from proper sleep and proper nourishment, but I - couldn't rid myself of it till this morning.” - </p> - <p> - “What was it, mother?” he asked, unable to see her drift. - </p> - <p> - “The fear, my boy, that you and that Dan Willis would meet face to face - has for a long time been a constant nightmare to me. I had picked up in - various ways, sometimes from remarks let fall by your father or one of the - servants, more about your differences with that man than you were aware - of. I tried to keep you from knowing how I felt, but it was secretly - dragging me to my grave.” - </p> - <p> - “And now, mother?” he asked, an almost hopeful light breaking far away on - his clouded horizon. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, it may be an awful sin, for I'm told Willis had a mother”—Mrs. - Dwight sighed—“but when the news came to-day that he had - accidentally killed himself I became a new woman. He was the one thing I - dreaded above all else, for, Carson, if he had not shot himself you and he - would have met and one of you would have fallen. Oh, I'm so happy. I'm - going to get well now, my boy. You will see me out on the lawn in a day or - two.” - </p> - <p> - His eyes were on the floor at her feet. Why he gave so much of his mental - burden to mere utterance he could not have explained, but he said: “And - even if we <i>had</i> met, mother, and he had tried to shoot me, and—and - I, in self-defence you know, had been forced to kill him—really - forced—I suppose even that situation would have—disturbed - you?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, don't, don't talk of that!” Mrs. Dwight cried. “I don't think it is - right to think of unpleasant things when one is happy. God did it, Carson. - God did it to save you.” - </p> - <p> - “All right, mother, I was only thinking—” - </p> - <p> - “Well, think of pleasanter things,” Airs. Dwight interrupted him. “Helen's - been over to see me rather oftener of late. We frequently sit and chat - together. It makes me feel young again. She is very free with me about - herself—that is, about everything except her affair with Mr. - Sanders.” - </p> - <p> - “She doesn't talk of that much, then?” he ventured, tentatively. - </p> - <p> - “She won't talk about it at all,” said the invalid; “and that's what seems - so queer about it. A woman can see deeper into a woman's heart than a man - can, and I've been wondering over Helen. Sometimes I almost think—” - Mrs. Dwight seemed lost in thought and unconscious of the fact that she - had ceased speaking. - </p> - <p> - “You were saying, mother,” he reminded her, eagerly, “that you almost - thought—” - </p> - <p> - “Why, it seems to me, Carson, that any natural girl ought to be so full of - her engagement to the man she is to marry that she would really <i>love</i> - to talk about it. Really it seems to me that Helen may be questioning her - heart in this matter, but she'll end by marrying Mr. Sanders. It looks as - if she has pledged herself in some way or other, and she is the very soul - of honor.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh yes, she is all that,” Dwight said, in an effort at lightness. “Now, - good-night, mother.” - </p> - <p> - Much fatigued from his journey and the mental strain upon him, he went up - to his room. Throwing off his coat, the night being warm to - oppressiveness, he lighted a cigar and sat in the wide-open window. What a - strange, tempestuous life was his! How like a mere bauble of soul and - flesh was he buffeted between highest heaven and lowest earth! And for - what purpose was he created in the vast scheme of endless solar systems? - </p> - <p> - From the row of negro cabins and cottages below, across the dewy grass and - shrubbery, on the flower-perfumed air came sounds of unrestrained - merriment. Some negro in a cottage near Linda's was playing a mouth-organ - to the accompaniment of a sweetly twanging guitar. There was a rhythmic - clapping of hands, the musical, drumlike thumping of feet on resounding - boards, snatches of happy songs, clear, untrammelled, childlike laughter. - </p> - <p> - They—and naught else—had brought him his burden. That complete - justice might be meted out to such as they, he had dipped his hands into - the warm blood of his own race, and was an outlaw bearing an honored name, - stalking forth, pure of heart, and yet masked and draped with deceit, - among his own kind. And for what ultimate good? Alas! he was denied even - the solace of a look into futurity. And yet—born in advance of his - time, as the Son of God was born ahead of His—there was yet - something in him which—while he shrank from the depth and bitterness - of <i>his</i> cup—lifted him, in his unmated loneliness, in his - blindness, to far-off light—high above the material world. There to - suffer, there to endure, and yet—there. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0041" id="link2HCH0041"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XLI. - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0047" id="linkimage-0047"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9365.jpg" alt="9365 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9365.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - T was the day following the burial of the body of Dan Willis. Old man - Purdy, whom Carson had gone to see, was at Dilk's cross-roads store with a - basket of fresh eggs, which he had brought to exchange for their market - value in coffee. Several other farmers were seated about the store on - nail-kegs and soap-boxes whittling sticks and chewing tobacco, their slow - tongues busy with the details of the recent death and interment. - </p> - <p> - Old Purdy was speaking of how the children had discovered the body, and - remarked that it would have been found several hours sooner if Carson - Dwight had only taken the shorter road that day to Springtown instead of - the longer. - </p> - <p> - “Why, Dwight come from Darley, didn't he?” asked Dilk, as he wrote down - the number of eggs he had counted on a piece of brown paper on the counter - and waited before continuing. - </p> - <p> - “Why, yes,” Purdy made answer; “he told me, as we were goin' through the - work he had to do at my house, that he had gone to Springtown an' stayed - all that night an' then rid on to me.” - </p> - <p> - The store-keeper's hands hovered over the basket for an instant, then they - rested on its edge. “Well, I can't make out what under the sun Dwight went - so far out o' his way for. It's fully five mile farther, and the road is - so rough and washed out that it's mighty nigh out of use.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, that does look kind o' funny, come to think of it,” admitted Purdy, - as he gazed into the bland faces around him. “I never thought of it - before, but it certainly looks odd, to say the least.” - </p> - <p> - “Of course thar may not be a thing <i>in</i> it,” said Dilk, in a guarded - tone, “but it <i>does</i> all seem strange, especially after we've heard - so much talk about the threats passin' betwixt them very two men. I mean, - you see, neighbors, that it sort o' looks, providential that—that - Dan met with the accident before Dwight an' him come together over here. - That's what I mean.” - </p> - <p> - All heads nodded gravely, all minds were busy, each in its own individual - way, and stirred by something more exciting than the mere accidental death - of Willis or the formality of his burial. - </p> - <p> - There was a rather prolonged silence broken only by the click of the eggs - which Dilk was counting into a new tin dish-pan. When he had finished he - weighed out the coffee and emptied it into the white, smoothly ironed poke - Purdy's wife had sent along for that purpose. Then he looked straight into - Purdy's eyes. - </p> - <p> - “Did you notice—if thar ain't no harm in axin'—whether Dwight - seemed—well, anyways upset or—or bothered while he was at your - house?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, <i>I</i> didn't,” replied the farmer; “but my wife was in the room - while he was doin' the writin' that had to be done, an' I remember now she - axed me after he left ef he was a drinkin' man. I told her no, I didn't - think he was <i>now</i>, though he used to be sorter wild, an' I wanted to - know why she axed me. She said she never had seed anybody's hands shake - like his did while he held the pen, an' that he had a quar look about the - eyes like he'd lost a power o' sleep.” - </p> - <p> - “Was—was anything said in his presence about Willis's death that you - remember of?” the storekeeper pursued, with the skill of a legal - crossexaminer, while the listeners stared, their cuds of tobacco - compressed between their grinders. - </p> - <p> - Purdy's face had grown rigid, almost as that of an important witness on - the stand in court. “I can't just remember,” he said. “There was so much - talk about it on all sides that day. Oh yes—now I recall that—well, - you see we was all at my house, eager for news, and it struck me, you - know, as if Dwight wasn't as anxious to talk as the rest—in fact, it - looked like he sorter wanted to change the subject.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh!” The exclamation was breathed simultaneously from several mouths. - </p> - <p> - “Of course, neighbors,” Purdy began, in alarm, “don't understand me for - one minute to—” But he broke off, for Dilk had something else to - observe. - </p> - <p> - “Them two men was at dagger's-p'ints, I've heard,” he declared. “Friends - on both sides was movin' heaven an' earth to keep 'em apart. Now if Dwight - <i>did</i> take that long, roundabout road from Darley to Springtown, why, - they didn't meet. But ef Dwight went the way he always <i>has</i> tuck, - an' I've seed 'im out this way often enough, why—” Dilk raised his - hands and held them poised significantly in mid-air. - </p> - <p> - “But the coroner's jury found,” said Purdy, “that Willis was shootin' at a - target he'd stuck up on a tree with his own knife, an' that his young hoss - was skittish, an'—” - </p> - <p> - “All the better proof of bad blood betwixt 'em,” burst from a farmer on a - nail-keg. “The truth is, some hold now that Willis was out practising so - he could wing that particular game. The only thing I see agin what you-uns - seem to think is that it's been kept quiet. Dwight is a lawyer an' knows - the law, an' he wouldn't cover a thing like that up when all he'd have to - do would be to establish proof that it was done in self-defence an' git - his walking-papers.” - </p> - <p> - “Thar you are!” Dilk said, in a voice that rang with conviction; “but - suppose <i>one</i> thing—suppose this. Suppose the provocation - wasn't exactly strong enough to quite justify killing. Suppose Dwight, - made mad by all he'd heard, drawed an' fired without due warning, and - suppose while he was thar in that quiet spot he had time to think it all - over and decided that he'd stand a better chance of escape by not bein' - known in the matter. A body never can tell. You kin bet your boots if - Dwight <i>did</i> kill 'im an' hid the fact, he had ample legal reasons - fer not wantin' to be mixed up in it.” - </p> - <p> - The seed was sown, and upon soil well suited to rapid germination and - growth. By the next day the noxious weed had its head well above the - ground, and, like the crab-grass the farmers knew to be so tenaciously - prolific, it was spreading rapidly. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0042" id="link2HCH0042"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XLII. - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0048" id="linkimage-0048"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9369.jpg" alt="9369 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9369.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - WEEK went by. Helen Warren had been sitting that warm afternoon in the big - bay-window of the parlor. A cooling breeze fanned the old lace curtains - inward, bringing the perfume of the the garden and now and then revealing - a wealth of color on the rose-bushes near by. She had just read an - appealing letter from Sanders in which he had expressed himself as having - been so disturbed by her refusal to assure him positively of what his - ultimate fate was to be that he had permitted himself to worry - considerably. So greatly concerned, indeed, was he that he had confided in - his mother, who, he wrote, had made matters worse by asking him flatly if - he was absolutely sure that he was loved in the one and only way a man - should be loved by the woman he was hoping to win for his wife. - </p> - <p> - He was writing all this to Helen in a straightforward, manly way, putting - her sharply on her honor, as it were, and she, poor girl, was worried in - her turn. Leaving her chair, she went to the piano and seated herself and - began to play. She was thus occupied when Ida Tarpley came in suddenly and - unannounced, as she felt privileged to do at any time. - </p> - <p> - “Well, tell me,” the visitor smiled, “what's the matter with your playing? - Why, you used to have a good, even touch, but as I came up the walk I - declare I thought it was some one tuning the piano. You were dropping - enough notes to fill a waste-paper basket.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I'm not in the mood for it, I presume!” Helen said, checking a sigh. - </p> - <p> - “I understand.” Miss Tarpley gently pushed back Helen's hair and kissed - her brow. “You can't deny it; you were thinking about Carson Dwight and - all his troubles.” - </p> - <p> - Helen flushed and dropped her glance to her lap, then she rose from the - piano and the two girls moved hand in hand to the window. “The truth is,” - Helen admitted, “that I have been wondering if anything has gone wrong - with him—any bad news or indications about his election.” - </p> - <p> - “He can't be worrying about the election,” Ida said, confidently. “Mr. - Garner comes to see me often and confides in me rather freely, and he says - the people are flocking back to Carson in swarms and droves. They - understand him now and admire him for the courageous stand he took.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, something is wrong with him,” Helen declared, eying her cousin - sadly. “Mam' Linda never makes a mistake; she knows him through and - through. She went to thank him last night for getting a position for Pete - to work regularly at the flouring mill, and she came back really depressed - and shaking her head. - </p> - <p> - “'Suppin certain sho gone wrong wid young mars-ter, honey,' she said. 'He - ain't never been lak dis before; he ain't <i>hisse'f</i>, I tell you! He's - yaller an' shaky an' look quar out'n de eyes.'” - </p> - <p> - “Oh!” and Miss Tarpley sank into one of the chairs in the window. “I'm - almost sorry you mentioned that, for now I'll worry. I've always had his - cause at heart, and now—Helen, I'm afraid something very, very - serious is hanging over him. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0049" id="linkimage-0049"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0371.jpg" alt="0371 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0371.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - I'm not hinting at anything that might come out of his disappointment over - your affair with Mr. Sanders, either. It seems to me he accepted that as - inevitable and is making the best of it, but it is something else.” - </p> - <p> - “Something else!” Helen repeated. “Oh, Ida, how horribly you talk! Do you - mean—is it possible that he was more seriously wounded that night - than he has let us know?” - </p> - <p> - “No, it's not that. I don't know what it is. In fact, Mr. Garner says—” - </p> - <p> - “What does he say, Ida?” Helen threw into the gap left by her cousin's - failure to proceed, and stood staring. - </p> - <p> - “Well, you know it is easy sometimes to tell when one is not revealing - everything, and I felt that way about Mr. Garner when he called night - before last. In the first place, though he tried to do it in a casual sort - of way, he kept talking of Carson all the time. It was almost as if he had - come to see if I would confirm some secret fear of his, for he seemed to - get near it several times and then backed out. Once he went further than - he intended, for he said, as if it were a slip of the lip, when we were - speculating on the possible cause of Carson's depression—he said, - 'There is <i>one</i> thing, Miss Ida, that I fear, and I fear it so much - that I dare not even mention it to myself.'” - </p> - <p> - “Oh!” exclaimed Helen, and she leaned on the back of her chair; “what - could he have meant?” - </p> - <p> - “I don't know; Mr. Garner wouldn't explain; in fact, he seemed rather - upset by his unintentional remark. He laughed awkwardly and changed the - subject, and never alluded to Carson again while he stayed. As he was - getting his hat in the hall, I followed him and tried to pin him down to - some sort of explanation, and then he made an effort to throw me off. - 'Oh,' he said, 'you know Carson is terribly blue about losing Helen, and - it has, of course, caused him to care less about his election, but he'll - come around in time.' I told Mr. Garner then that I was sure he had meant - something else. I was looking straight at him and saw his glance fall, but - that was all I got out of him. Something is wrong, Helen—something - very, very serious.” - </p> - <p> - “Have you seen Carson lately, Ida?” Helen asked, with rigid lips. - </p> - <p> - “Not to speak to him; he seems to avoid me, but as I sat in the window of - my room yesterday afternoon I saw him go by. He didn't see me, but I saw - his face in repose, and oh, cousin, it wrung my heart. He really must have - some great secret trouble, and it hurts me to feel that I can't help him - bear it. He used to confide in me, but he seems to shun me now, and that, - too, in itself, is queer.” - </p> - <p> - “It is not about his mother, either,” Helen sighed, “for her health has - been improving lately.” And as Miss Tarpley was leaving she accompanied - her, gloomily to the door. - </p> - <p> - The twilight fell softly, and as Helen sat in the hammock on the veranda - her father came in at the gate and up the walk. She rose to greet him with - her customary kiss, and taking his arm they began to stroll back and forth - along the veranda. She was hoping that he would speak of Carson Dwight, - but he didn't, and she was forced to mention him herself, which she did - rather stiffly in her effort to make it appear as merely casual. - </p> - <p> - “Ida was saying this afternoon that Carson is not looking well—or, - rather, that he seems to be worried,” she faltered out, and then she hung - on to the Major's arm and waited. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I don't know,” the old gentleman said, reflectively. “I went into his - office this afternoon to get a blank check, and found him at his desk with - a pile of letters from his supporters all over the county. Well, I - acknowledge I wondered why he should have so little enthusiasm when the - thing is going his way like the woods afire, and his crusty old father - fairly chuckling with pride and delight; but what's the use of talking to - you! You know if he is blue there is only <i>one</i> reason for it.” - </p> - <p> - “Only one reason!” Helen echoed, faintly. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, how could the poor boy be happy—thoroughly, so I mean—when - the whole town can talk of nothing else but the grandeur of your - approaching marriage. Mrs. Snodgrass has started the report that your aunt - is to give you a ten-thousand-dollar trousseau and that Sanders is to load - you down with family jewels. Mrs. Snod says we are going to have such a - crowd here at the house that the verandas will be enclosed in canvas and - the tables be set barbecue fashion on the lawn, and that the family - servants and all their unlynched descendants are to be brought from the - four quarters of the earth to wait on the multitude in the old style. You - needn't bother; that's what ails Carson. He's got plenty of pride, and - that sort of talk will hurt any man.” But Helen was unconvinced. After - supper she sat alone on the veranda, her father being occupied with the - evening papers in the library. What could Garner have meant by his remark - to Ida? With a heavy heart and her hands tightly clasped in her lap, Helen - sat trying to fathom the mystery, for that there was mystery she had no - doubt. - </p> - <p> - She went back to the first days of her return home. When she had arrived - her heart—the queer, inconsistent thing which was now so deeply - concerned with Carson Dwight's affairs—had been coldly steeled - against him. The next salient event of that gladsome period was the ball - in her honor of which all else had faded into the background except that - memorable talk with Carson and his promise to remove Pete from the - temptations of living in town. The boy had gone, then the real trouble had - begun. Carson had rescued him from a violent death before her very eyes. - That speech of his was never to be forgotten. It had roused her as she had - never been roused by human eloquence. With a throb of terror, she heard - the report of the pistol fired by Dan Willis, his avowed enemy—Dan - Willis upon whom a just Providence had visited—visited—visited—She - sat staring at the ground, her beautiful eyes growing larger, her hands - clutching each other like clamps of vitalized steel. - </p> - <p> - “Oh!” she cried. “No, no! not that—not that!” It was an accident. - The coroner and his jury had said so. But how strange! No one had - mentioned it, and yet it had happened on the very day Carson had ridden - along the fatal road to reach Springtown. She knew the way well. She - herself had driven over it twice with Carson, and had heard him say it was - the nearest and best road, and that he would <i>never take any other</i>. - </p> - <p> - Ah, yes, <i>that</i> was the explanation—<i>that</i> was what Garner - feared. <i>That</i> was the terrible fatality which the shrewd lawyer, - knowing its full gravity, had hardly dared mention even to himself. Carson - Dwight, her hero, had killed a man! - </p> - <p> - Helen rose like a mechanical thing, and with dragging feet went up the - stairs to her room. Before her open window—the window looking out - upon the Dwight lawn and garden—she sat in the still darkness, now - praying that Carson might appear as he sometimes did. If she saw him, - should she go to him? Yes, for the pain, the cold clutch on her heart of - the discovery was like the throes of death. She told herself that she had - been the primal cause of this as of all his suffering. In the blind desire - to oblige her, he had wrecked his every hope. He had lost all and yet was - uncomplaining. Indeed, he was trying to hide his misfortune, bearing it - alone, like the man he was. - </p> - <p> - She heard her father closing the library windows to prepare for bed. His - steps rang hollowly as he came out into the hall below and called up to - her: “Daughter, are you asleep?” - </p> - <p> - A reply hung in her dry throat. She feared to trust her voice to - utterance. She heard the Major mutter, as if to himself, “Well, - good-night, daughter,” and then his footsteps died out. Again she was - alone with her grim discovery. - </p> - <p> - The town clock had just struck ten when she saw the red coal of a cigar on - the Dwight lawn quite near the gate leading into her father's grounds. It - was he. She knew it by the fitful flaring of the cigar. Noiselessly she - glided down the stairs, softly she turned the big brass key in the massive - lock and went out and sped, light of foot, across the dewy grass. As she - approached him Dwight was standing with his back to her, his arms folded. - </p> - <p> - “Carson!” she called, huskily, and he turned with a start and a stare of - wonder through the gloom. - </p> - <p> - “Oh,” he said, “it's you,” and doffing his hat he came through the gateway - and stood by her. “It's time, young lady, that you were asleep, isn't it?” - </p> - <p> - She saw through his effort at lightness of manner. - </p> - <p> - “I noticed your cigar and wanted to speak to you,” she said, in a voice - that sounded tense and even harsh. It rose almost in a squeak and died in - her tight throat. Something in his wan face and shifting eyes, noticeable - even in the darkness, confirmed her in the conviction that she had divined - his secret. - </p> - <p> - “You wanted to see me,” he said; “I've had so many things to think about - lately, in this beastly political business, you know, that I'm sadly - behind in my social duties.” - </p> - <p> - “I—I've been thinking about you all evening,” she said, lamely. - “Somehow, I felt as if I simply must see you and talk to you.” - </p> - <p> - “How good of you!” he cried. “I don't deserve it, though—at such a - time, anyway. It is generally conceded that it is a woman's duty, placed - as you are, to think of only one thing and one individual. In this case - the man is the luckiest one in God's universe. He's well-to-do, has scores - of admiring, influential friends, and is to marry the grandest, sweetest - woman on earth. If that isn't enough to make a man happy, why—” - </p> - <p> - “Stop; don't speak that way!” Helen commanded. “I can't stand it. I simply - can't stand it, Carson!” - </p> - <p> - He stared at her inquiringly for a moment, as she stood with her face - averted, and then he heaved a big sigh as he gently, almost reverently, - touched her sleeve to direct her glance upon himself. - </p> - <p> - “What is it, Helen?” he said, softly, a wealth of tenderness in his - shaking voice. “What's gone wrong? Don't tell me <i>you</i> are unhappy. - Things have gone crooked with me of late—I—I mean that my - father has been displeased, till quite recently at least, and I have not - been in the best mood; but I have been sustained by the thought that you, - at least, were happy. If I thought you were not, I don't know what I would - do.” - </p> - <p> - “How can I be happy when you—when you—” Her voice dwindled - away into nothingness, and she could only face him with all her agony and - despair burning in her great, melting eyes. - </p> - <p> - “When I what, Helen?” he asked, gropingly. “Surely you are not troubled - about <i>me</i>, now that my political horizon is so bright that my - opponent can't look at it without smoked glasses. Oh, I'm all right. Ask - Garner—ask your father—ask Braider—ask anybody.” - </p> - <p> - “I was not thinking of your <i>election</i>,” she found voice, to say. - “Oh, Carson, <i>do</i> have faith in me! I crave it; I long for it; I - yearn for it. I want to help you. I want to stand by you and suffer with - you. You can trust me. You tried me once—you remember—and I - stood the test. Before God, I'll never breathe it to a soul. Oh”—stopping - him by raising her despairing hand—“don't try to deceive me because - I'm a girl. The uncertainty is killing me. I'll not close my eyes - to-night. The truth will be easier borne because I'll be bearing it—<i>with - you</i>.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, Helen, can it be possible that you—” He had spoken impulsively - and essayed to check himself, but now, pale as a corpse, he stood before - her not knowing what to do or say. He opened his mouth as if to speak, and - then with a helpless shrug of his shoulders he lapsed into silence, a - droop of utter despondency upon him. She was now sure she was right, and a - shaft she had never met before entered her heart and remained there—remained - there to strengthen her, good woman that she was, as such things have - strengthened women of all periods. She laid her firm hand upon his arm in - a pressure meant to comfort him, and with the purity of a sorrowing angel - she said: “I know the truth, dear Carson, and if you don't show me a way - to get you out from under it—you who did it all for my sake—if - you don't I shall die. I can't stand it.” - </p> - <p> - He stood convicted before her. With bowed head he remained silent for a - moment, then he said, almost with a groan: “To think, on top of it all, - that you must know—<i>you!</i> I was bearing it all right, but now - you—you poor, gentle, delicate girl—you have to be dragged - into this as you have been dragged into every miserable thing that ever - happened to me. It began with your brother's death—I helped stain - that memory for you—now this—this unspeakable thing!” - </p> - <p> - “You did it wholly in self-defence,” she said. “You <i>had</i> to do it. - He forced it on you.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, yes—he or fate, the imps of Satan or the elemental passion - born in me. Flight, open flight lay before me, but that would have been - the death of self-respect—so it came about.” - </p> - <p> - “And you kept it on account of your mother?” she went on, insistently, her - agonized face close to his. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, of course. It would kill her, Helen, and I would be doing it - deliberately, for I know what the consequences would be. I must be my own - tribunal. I have no right to take still another life that legal curiosity - may be gratified. But till I am proven innocent I am a murderer—that's - what hurts. I am offering myself to my fellow-men as a maker of laws, and - yet am deliberately defying those made by my predecessors.” - </p> - <p> - “Your mother must never know,” Helen said, firmly. “No one shall but you - and I, Carson. We'll bear it together.” She took his hand and held it - tightly for a moment, then pressing it tenderly against her cold cheek, - she lowered her head and left him—left him there under the vague - starlight, the soulful fragrance of her soothing personality upon him, - causing him to forget his peril, his grief, and his far-reaching sorrow, - and to draw close to his aching breast her heavenly sympathy and undying - fidelity. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0043" id="link2HCH0043"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XLIII. - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0050" id="linkimage-0050"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9382.jpg" alt="9382 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9382.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - NE morning, a week later, Pole Baker slouched down the street from the - wagon-yard, and, peering into the law-office of Garner & Dwight, he - stood undecided on the deserted street, his hands thrust deep into the - pockets of his baggy trousers. He took another surreptitious look. Garner - was at his desk, his great brow wrinkled as with concentrated thought, his - coarse hair awry, his coat off and shirt-sleeves rolled up to his elbows, - his fingers stained with ink. Glancing up at this moment, he caught the - farmer's eye and nodded: “Hello!” he said, cordially; “come in. How's our - young colt running out your way?” - </p> - <p> - “Like a shot out of a straight-barrelled gun,” Baker retorted. “He's the - most popular man in the county. He had a slow start, in all that nigger - mess, but he's all right now.” - </p> - <p> - “So you think he'll be elected?” Garner said, as Pole sat down in a chair - near his desk and began to twirl his long, gnarled fingers. - </p> - <p> - “Well, I didn't say <i>that</i>, exactly,” the farmer answered. - </p> - <p> - “But you said—” In his perplexity the lawyer could only stare. - </p> - <p> - “I reckon thar are lots of things in this life that kin keep fellows out - of offices besides the men runnin' agin 'em,” Baker said, significantly. - </p> - <p> - The eyes of the two men met in a long, steady stare; each was trying to - read the other. But Garner was too shrewd a lawyer to be pumped even by a - trusted friend, and he simply leaned back and took up his pen. “Oh yes, of - course,” he observed, “a good many slips betwixt the cup and the lip.” - </p> - <p> - Silence fell between the two men. Baker broke it suddenly and with his - customary frankness. “Look here, Bill Garner,” he said. “That young - feller's yore partner an' friend, but I've got his interests at heart - myself, an' it don't do no harm sometimes fer two men to talk over what - concerns a friend to both. I come in town to talk to <i>somebody</i>, an' - it looks like you are the man.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, that's it,” Garner said. “Well, out with it, Baker.” - </p> - <p> - Pole thrust his right hand into his pocket and took out a splinter of soft - pine and his knife. Then, with the toe of his heavy shoe, he drew a - wooden, sawdust-filled cuspidor towards him and over it he prepared to - whittle. - </p> - <p> - “I want to talk to you about Carson,” he said. “It ain't none o' my - business, Bill, but I believe he's in great big trouble.” - </p> - <p> - “You do, eh?” and Garner seemed to throw caution to the winds as he leaned - forward, his great, facile mouth open. “Well, Pole?” - </p> - <p> - “Gossip—talk under cover from one mouth to another,” the mountaineer - drawled out, “is the most dangerous thing, next to a bucket o' powder in a - cook-stove that you are goin' to bake in, of anything I know of. Gossip - has got hold of Dwight, Bill, an' it's tangled itself all about him. Ef - some'n' ain't done to choke it off it will git him down as shore as a - blacksnake kin swallow a toad after he's kivered it with slime.” - </p> - <p> - “You mean—” But Garner seemed to think better of his inclination - towards subterfuge and broke off. - </p> - <p> - “I mean about the way Dan Willis met his death,” Pole said, to the point. - “I'm no fool an' you ain't, at least you wouldn't be ef you was paid by - some client to git at the facts. Folks are ready to swear Carson was seed - the day that thing happened on that road inside of a mile o' whar Willis - was found. You know what time Carson left here that day; it was sometime - after dinner, an' the hotel man at Spring-town says he got thar an' - registered after dark. He says, too, that Carson looked nervous an' upset - an' seemed more anxious to avoid folks than the general run of - vote-hunters. Then—then, oh, well, what's the use o' beatin' about - the bush? You know an' I know that Carson hain't been actin' like himself - since then. It's all we can do to git 'im interested in his own - popularity, an' that shows some'n' is wrong—dead wrong. An' it looks - to me like it is a matter that ought to be attended to. Killin' a man is - serious enough in the eyes of the law without covering it up till it's - jerked out of you by the State solicitor.” - </p> - <p> - “So you think the two men met?” Garner said, now quite as if he were - inquiring into the legal status of any ordinary case. - </p> - <p> - “That's my judgment,” answered Pole. “And if I'm right, then it seems to - me that Carson an' his friends ought to take action before—” - </p> - <p> - “Before what?” Garner prompted, almost eagerly. “Before the grand jury - takes it up, as you know they will have to with all this commotion goin' - the rounds.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, Carson ought to act—concerned in it or not,” said Garner. “If - something isn't done right away, it might be sprung on him on the very eve - of his election and actually ruin him.” - </p> - <p> - “I'm worried, an' I don't deny it,” said the mountaineer. “You see, Bill, - Carson's a lawyer, and he knows whether he had a good case of self-defence - or not, an' shirking investigation this way looks powerful like—” - </p> - <p> - “Like he was himself the—aggressor,” interpolated Garner, with a - frown. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, like that,” said Baker. “Of course we know Willis was houndin' the - boy and making threats, but Carson's hot-headed, as hot-headed as they - make 'em, an' maybe he flared up at the first sight of Willis an' blazed - away at 'im. I don't see no other reason for him lyin' so low about it.” - </p> - <p> - “I'm glad you came to me,” Garner said. “I'll admit I've been fearing the - thing, Pole. It will be a delicate matter to broach, but I'm going to talk - to him about it. As you say, the longer it remains like it is the more - serious it becomes. Good Lord! if he <i>did</i> kill Willis—if he <i>did</i> - kill him, it would take sharp work to clear him of the charge of murder - after the silly way he has acted about it. Why, dang it, it's almost an - admission of guilt!” - </p> - <p> - Baker had barely left the office when Carson came in, nodded to his - partner, and sat down at his desk and began in an absent-minded way to cut - open some letters that were waiting for him. Unobserved Garner watched him - from behind the worn book he was holding up to his face. Hardened lawyer - that he was, Garner's heart melted with pity as he noted the dark - splotches under the young man's eyes, the pathetic droop of his shoulders, - the evidences in every facial line of the grim inward struggle that was - going on in the brave, supersensitive soul. Garner put down his book and - went into the little consultation-room in the rear and stood at the window - which looked out upon a small patch of corn in an adjoining lot. - </p> - <p> - “He did it!” he said, grimly. “Yes, he did it. Poor chap!” - </p> - <p> - The task before him was the hardest Garner had ever faced. He could have - discussed, to the finest points of detail, such a case for a client, but - Carson—the strange, winning personality over which he had marvelled - so often—was different. He was the most courageous, the most - self-sacrificing, the most keenly suffering human being Garner had ever - known, and the most sensitively honorable. How was it possible, even - indirectly, to allude to so grave a charge against such a man? And yet, - Garner reflected, pessimistically, the best of men sometimes reach a point - at which their high moral and spiritual tension, under one crucial test or - another, breaks. Why should it not be so in Carson Dwight's case. - </p> - <p> - Garner went back to his desk, sat down, and turned his revolving-chair - till he faced Carson's profile. “Look here, old chap,” he said. “I've got - something of a very unpleasant nature to say to you, and it's a pretty - hard thing to do, considering my keen regard for you.” - </p> - <p> - Dwight glanced up from the letter he held before him. He read Garner's - face in a steady stare for a moment, and then said, with a sigh, as he - laid the letter down: “I see you've heard it. Well, I knew it would get - out. I've seen it coming for several days.” - </p> - <p> - “I began to guess it a week or so back,” Garner went on, outwardly calm; - “but this morning in talking to Pole Baker I became convinced of it. It is - a grim sort of thing, my boy, but you must not despair. You've surmounted - more obstacles than any young fellow I know, and I believe you will - eventually come through this. Though you must acknowledge that it would - have been far wiser to have given yourself up at once.” - </p> - <p> - “I couldn't do it,” Carson responded, gloomily. “I thought of it. I - started on my way to Braider, really, but finally decided that it wouldn't - do.” - </p> - <p> - “Good God! was it as bad as that?” Garner exclaimed. “I've been hoping - against hope that you could—” - </p> - <p> - “It couldn't be worse.” Carson lowered his head till it rested on his - hand. His face went out of Garner's view. “It's going to kill her, Garner. - She can't stand it. Dr. Stone told me that another shock would kill her.” - </p> - <p> - “You mean—my Lord! you mean your <i>mother?</i> You—you”—Garner - leaned forward, his face working, his eyes gleaming—“you mean that - you did not report it because of her condition? Great God! why didn't I - think of that?” - </p> - <p> - “Why, certainly.” Carson looked round. “Did you think it was because—” - </p> - <p> - “I thought it was because you had—had killed him in—well, in a - manner you feared would not be adjudged wholly justifiable. I never - dreamed of the <i>real</i> reason. I see it all now,” and Garner rose from - his chair and with his lips twitching he laid his hand on Dwight's back. - “I understand perfectly, and I admire you more than I can say. Now, tell - me all about it.” - </p> - <p> - For an hour the two friends sat talking together. Calmly Carson went into - detail as to the happening, and when he had finished Garner said: “You've - got a good case, but you can easily see that it is grievously hampered by - your concealment of the facts so long. To make a jury see exactly how you - felt about your mother's reception of the thing may be hard, for the - average man is not by nature quite so finely strung as that, but we must - <i>make</i> them see it. Dr. Stone's testimony as to his advice to you - will help. But, by all means, we must make the advance ourselves as soon - as possible—before a charge is brought against you by the grand - jury.” v “But”—and Dwight groaned aloud—“my mother simply - cannot go through it, Garner. I know her. It will kill her.” - </p> - <p> - “She simply must bear it,” Garner said, gloomily. “We must find a way to - brace her up to the ordeal. I have it. All my hopes are based on our - making such a clear statement before Squire Felton, with the testimony of - several witnesses as to Willis's threats against you, that he will throw - it out of court. I can see the squire to-day and have a hearing set for - to-morrow. We'll make quick work of it. I'll also see your father and—” - </p> - <p> - “My father!” Carson exclaimed, despondently. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I'll see him and explain the whole thing. I think I can get him to - keep the matter from reaching your mother till after the hearing. She is - still confined to her room, and surely your father can manage that part of - it.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes,” Carson replied, gloomily; “and he will do all he can, though it's - going to be a terrible blow to him. But—if—if the justice - court should bind me over, and I should have to go to jail to await trial, - then my mother—” - </p> - <p> - “Don't think about her now!” Garner said, testily. “Let's work for a - prompt dismissal and not look on the dark side till we have to. I'll run - down and talk to your father at once, before the rumor reaches him and - drives him crazy. I tell you it's in the very air; I've felt it for - several days.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0044" id="link2HCH0044"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XLIV. - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0051" id="linkimage-0051"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9390.jpg" alt="9390 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9390.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - N his office in one corner of his great grain and cotton warehouse, at a - dusty, littered desk before a murky, cobweb-bed window, Garner found old - Dwight, his lap full of telegraphic reports, his head submerged in a - morning paper containing the market and crop news in general. Outside of - the thin-walled office heavy iron trucks, in the grasp of brawny black - men, rattled and rumbled over the heavy floor and across weighty skids - into open cars in the rear. There was the creaking sound of the big hand - elevators engaged in hoisting and lowering bales, barrels, bags, and - casks, the mellow sing-song of the light-hearted negroes as they toiled, - blissfully ignorant of the profound gloom which had fallen on the defender - of their rights. - </p> - <p> - “I came to see you on an important matter concerning Carson,” Garner - began, as he leaned over the old man's desk. - </p> - <p> - Dwight lowered his paper, shrugged his shoulders, and sniffed. - </p> - <p> - “Campaign funds, I reckon,” he said. “Well, I've been looking for some - such demand. In fact, I've been astonished that you fellows haven't been - after me sooner. I'll do anything but buy whiskey to give away. I'm - against that custom.” - </p> - <p> - “It wasn't <i>that</i>,” said Garner, who, usually plain-spoken, shrank - from beating about the bush even in so delicate a matter. “The truth is, - Carson is in a little trouble, Mr. Dwight.” - </p> - <p> - “Trouble?” the merchant said, bluntly. “Will you kindly show me when he's - ever been out of it? Since the day he was born it's been scrape after - scrape. By all possessed, Billy, when he wasn't a year old I had to spend - fifty dollars to encase all the chimneys in with iron grating to keep him - from crawling into the fire. He's walked or stumbled into every fire that - was made since then. When he was only twelve a man out at the farm fell in - a well and nothing would do Carson but that he must go down after him. He - did it, fastened the only available rope about the man and sent him to the - top, and when they lowered it to Carson he was so nearly drowned that he - could hardly sit in the loop. If I had a list of the scrapes that boy went - through at home and at college I'd sell it to some blood-and-thunder novel - writer. It would make his fortune. Well, what is it now?” - </p> - <p> - “Carson is in very serious trouble I'm afraid, Mr. Dwight,” Garner said, - as he took a chair and sat down. “You will have to prepare yourself for a - pretty sharp shock. He couldn't help it. It was pushed on him to such an - extent that there was no other way out of it and retain his self-respect. - Mr. Dwight, you, of course, heard of Dan Willis's death?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, and thought that now that he was under the sod Carson would surely—” - </p> - <p> - “The death was not an accident, Mr. Dwight,” - </p> - <p> - Garner interrupted, and his eyes rested steadily on the old man's face. - </p> - <p> - “You mean that Willis killed himself—that he—” - </p> - <p> - “I mean that he <i>forced</i> Carson to kill him, Mr. Dwight.” - </p> - <p> - The old merchant's face was working as if in the throes of death; he - leaned forward, his eyes wide in growing horror. - </p> - <p> - “Don't, don't say that, Billy; take it back!” he gasped. “Anything but - that—anything else under God's shining sun.” - </p> - <p> - “You must try to be calm,” Garner said, gently. “It can't be helped. After - all, the poor boy was forced to do it to save his life.” - </p> - <p> - Old Dwight lowered his face to his hands and groaned. The negro at the - head of the gang of truckmen approached and leaned in the doorway. He had - come to ask some directions about the work, but with widening eyes he - stood staring. Garner peremptorily waved him away, and, rising, he laid - his hand on Dwight's shoulder. - </p> - <p> - “Don't take it so hard!” he said, soothingly. “Remember, there is a lot to - do, and that's what I came to see you about.” - </p> - <p> - Old Dwight raised his blearing eyes, which, in his pallid face now looked - bloodshot, and stammered out: “What is there to do? What does it mean? How - was it kept till now? Was he trying to hide it?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes”—Garner nodded—“the poor boy has been bearing it in - secret. He was afraid the news of it would seriously injure his mother.” - </p> - <p> - “And it will!” Dwight groaned. “She will never bear it in the world. She - is as frail as a flower. His conduct has brought her within a - hair's-breadth of the grave more than once, and nothing under high heaven - could save her from this. It's awful, awful!” - </p> - <p> - “I know it's bad, but we've got to save him, Mr. Dwight. You can't have - your own son—” - </p> - <p> - “Have him <i>what?</i>” Dwight rose, swaying from side to side, and stood - facing the lawyer. - </p> - <p> - “Well, you can't have him sent to jail for murder; you can't have him—found - guilty and publicly executed. The law is a ticklish business. Absolutely - innocent men have been hanged time after time. I tell you this concealment - of the thing, and Carson's hot fury at Willis and the remarks he has made - here and there about him—the fact that he was armed—that there - were no witnesses to the duel—that he allowed the erroneous verdict - of the coroner's jury to go on record—all these things, with a - scoundrel like Wiggin in the background at deadly work to thwart us and - pull Carson out of his track, are very, very serious. It is the most - serious job I ever tackled in the courts, but I'm going to put it through - or, as God is my judge, Mr. Dwight, I'll throw up the law.” - </p> - <p> - Tears were now flowing freely from the old merchant's eyes and, - unhindered, dripped from his face to the ground. Taking Garner's hand he - grasped it firmly, and as he wrung it he sobbed: “Save my boy, Billy, and - I'll never let you want for means as long as you live. He's all I've got, - and I'm prouder of him than I ever let folks know. I've made a lot of fuss - over some things he's done, but through it all I was proud of him, proud - of him because he saw deeper into right than I did. Even this nigger - question—I talked against that a lot, because I thought it would - pull him down, but when I heard how he got you all together in Blackburn's - store that night and persuaded you to save old Linda's boy—when I - learned of that and heard the old woman's cries of joy, and saw the - far-reaching effects of what Carson was standing for, I was so proud and - thankful that I sneaked off to my room and cried—cried like a child; - and now upon it all, as his reward, comes this thing. Oh, Billy, save him! - Don't crush the poor boy's spirit. I've always wanted to aid you in some - substantial way for your interest in him, and I'm going to do it this - time.” - </p> - <p> - “I hope we can squash the thing in justice court in the morning, Mr. - Dwight,” Garner said, confidently. “The chief thing is for you to keep it - all from your wife until then, anyway. I can't do a thing with Carson till - his mind is at ease over her. He worships the ground she walks on, Mr. - Dwight, and if it hadn't been for that he would have been out of this - trouble long ago, for I'm sure a plain statement of the matter immediately - after it happened would have cleared him without any trouble. In his - desire to spare his mother he has complicated the case, that's all.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I can keep it from his mother that long easy enough,” said Dwight. - “I'll go home now and see to it. Pull my boy through this, Billy. If you - have to draw on me for every cent I've got, pull him through. I'm going to - treat him different in the future-. If he can get out of this I believe he - will be elected and make a great man.” - </p> - <p> - An hour later Garner hurried back to the office. - </p> - <p> - “Everything is in fine shape!” he chuckled, as he threw off his coat and - fell to work at his desk. “Squire Felton has fixed the hearing for - to-morrow morning at eleven and Pole Baker has gone on the fastest horse - in the livery-stable to secure witnesses for our side. He says he can find - them galore in the mountains, and your father is as solid as a stone wall. - He fell all in a tumble at first, but braced up, said some beautiful - things about you, and went home to see that your mother's ears are closed. - </p> - <p> - “I saw the sheriff, too. What do you think? When I told him the facts, and - said that you were ready to give yourself up, he almost cried. Braider's a - trump. He said that the law gave him the right to let you go on your own - recognizance, and that before he'd arrest you and put you in a common jail - he'd have his arms and legs cut off. He said, knowing your heart as he - knew it, he'd let you go all the way to Canada without stopping you, and - that if you were bound over on this charge he'd throw up his job rather - than arrest you. He told me he'd been looking for it—that he got - wind of it two days ago, and would have been in to see you about it if he - hadn't been afraid you'd misunderstand his coming at such a time. He put a - flea in my ear, too. He said we must beware of Wiggin. He has an idea that - Wiggin has been on to this for sometime and may have a dangerous dagger up - his sleeve. The district-attorney is out of town to-day but will be back - to-night. He's as straight as a die and will act fair. I will see him the - first thing in the morning. Now, you brace up. Leave everything to me. You - are as good a lawyer as I am, but you are too nervous and worried about - your mother to act on your best judgment.” - </p> - <p> - At this juncture the colored gardener from Dwight's came in with a note - directed to Garner. Garner opened it and read it while Carson stood - looking on. It ran: <i>“Dear Billy,—Everything is all right at this - end, and will remain so, at least till after the hearing to-morrow. I - enclose my check for ten thousand dollars as a retaining fee. I always - intended to give you a little start, and I hope this will help you - materially. Save my boy. Save him, Billy. For God's sake pull him through; - don't let this thing crush his spirit. He's got a great and a useful - future before him if only we can pull him through this.”</i> - </p> - <p> - Carson read the note through a blur and turned away. He was standing alone - in the dreary little consultation-room a few minutes later, when Garner - came to him, old Dwight's check fluttering in his hands. - </p> - <p> - “Your dad's the right sort,” he said, his eyes gleaming with the infant - fires of avarice. “One only has to know how to understand him. The size of - this check is out of all reason, but if I can do what he wishes to-morrow, - I'll not only accept it, but I'll put it to a glorious use. Carson, there - is a young woman in this town whom I'll ask to marry me, and I'll buy a - home with this to start life on.” - </p> - <p> - “Ida Tarpley?” said Carson. - </p> - <p> - “She's the one,” Garner said, with a bare touch of rising color. “I think - she would take me, from a little remark she dropped, and it was through - you that I found her.” - </p> - <p> - “Through me?” Dwight said. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, it was in talking of your ups and downs that I first saw into her - wonderfully sweet and sympathetic nature. Carson, if you get your - walking-papers in the morning, I won't wait ten minutes before I pop the - question. The lack of means was the only thing that kept me from proposing - the last time I saw her.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0045" id="link2HCH0045"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XLV. - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0052" id="linkimage-0052"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9398.jpg" alt="9398 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9398.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - HE next morning when Garner reached the office, he found Carson surrounded - by “the gang,” Blackburn was just leaving, his mild eyes fixed gloomily on - the sidewalk, and Wade Tingle, Keith Gordon, and Bob Smith sat about the - office with long-drawn, stoical faces. - </p> - <p> - “I was just telling Carson that it will be a walkover in court this - morning,” Wade was saying, comfortingly, as Garner sat down at his desk, - his great brow clouded. “Don't you think so, Garner?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I'll tell you <i>one</i> thing, boys,” Garner answered, irritably, - “it's too important a matter to make light over, and I want you fellows to - clear out so we can get to work. I've got to talk to Carson, and I can't - do it with so many here. I'm not accustomed to thinking with a crowd - around.” - </p> - <p> - “You bet we'll skedaddle, then, old man,” said Keith; “but we'll be at the—the - hearing.” - </p> - <p> - When they had gone droopingly out, Carson came from the window at which he - had been standing and looked Garner over, noting with surprise that the - lower parts of the legs of his partner's trousers were dusty and his boots - unpolished. The shirt Garner wore had sleeves that were too long for his - arms, and a pair of soiled cuffs covered more than half of the small - hands. His standing collar had become crumpled, and his ever-present black - silk necktie, with its unshapely bow and brown, frayed edges, had slipped - out of place. His hair was awry, his whole manner nervous and excitable. - </p> - <p> - “Keith says you didn't sleep at the den last night,” Dwight said, - tentatively. “Did you go out to your father's?” - </p> - <p> - Garner seemed to hesitate for an instant, then he crossed his dusty legs - and began to draw upon and tie more firmly the loose strings of his worn - and cracked patent-leather shoes. - </p> - <p> - “Look here, Carson,” he said, when he had fumblingly tied the last knot, - “you are too strong and brave a man to be treated in the wishy-washy way a - woman's treated. Besides, you'll have to know the truth sooner or later, - anyway, and you may as well be prepared for it.” - </p> - <p> - “Something gone wrong?” Dwight asked, calmly. - </p> - <p> - “Worse than I dreamed was possible,” Garner said. “I thought we'd have - comparatively smooth sailing, but—well, it's your danged luck! Pole - Baker come in this morning about two o'clock. I'd taken a room at the - hotel to get away from those chattering boys so I could think. I couldn't - sleep, and was trying to get myself straight with a dime novel that - wouldn't hold my attention, when Pole came and found me. Carson, that - rascal Wiggin is the blackest devil that ever walked the earth in human - shape.” - </p> - <p> - “He's been at work,” said Carson, calmly. - </p> - <p> - “You'd think so,” said Garner. “Pole says wherever he went, expecting to - lay hands on good witnesses who had heard Willis make threats, he found - that Wiggin had got there first and put up a tale that closed their mouths - like clams.” - </p> - <p> - “I see,” said Dwight. “He frightened them off.” - </p> - <p> - “I should think he did. He put them on their guard, telling them, without - hinting at any trouble of yours, that if they had a call to court, of any - sort whatsoever, to get out of it, as it would only be a trick on our part - to implicate them in the lynching business.” - </p> - <p> - “So we have no witnesses,” said Dwight. - </p> - <p> - “Not even a photograph of one!” replied Garner, bitterly. “I sent Pole - right out again, tired as he was, in another direction. He had a faint - idea that he might persuade Willis's mother to testify, though I told him - he was on a wild-goose chase, for not one mother in ten thousand would - turn over a hand to aid a man who—a man under just such - circumstances. Then I got a horse—” - </p> - <p> - “At that time of night?” Carson cried. - </p> - <p> - “What was the difference? I couldn't sleep, anyway, and the cool night air - made me feel better, but I failed. The men I saw admitted that they had - heard Dan talk some, but they couldn't recall any absolute threats. When I - got back to town it was eight o'clock. I ate a snack at the restaurant and - then hurried off to see the district-attorney. Mayhew is a good man, - Carson, and a fair man. I think he is the most honest and conscientious - solicitor we've ever had. But right there I saw the track of your guardian - angel. As early as it was, Wiggin had been there before me. Mayhew - wouldn't admit that he had, but I knew it from his reserved manner. Why, I - expected to see the solicitor take the whole thing lightly, you know, - considering your standing at the bar and your family name, but I found him—well, - entirely too serious about it. He really talked as if it were the gravest - thing that had ever happened. I saw that he was badly prejudiced, and I - tried to disabuse his mind of some hidden impressions, but he wouldn't - talk much. All at once, however, he looked me in the face and asked me how - on earth any sensible man, familiar with the law, could keep a thing like - that concealed as long as you did. I told him, in as plausible and direct - a way as I could, how you felt in regard to your mother's condition. He - listened attentively, then he shrugged his shoulders and said: 'Why, - Garner, Dr. Stone told my wife the other day that Mrs. Dwight was - improving rapidly. Surely she wasn't as bad off as all that.' My Lord! I - was set back so badly that I hardly knew what to say. He went on then to - tell me that folks through the country had been saying that towns-people - always managed to avoid the law by some hook or crook, or influence, or - money, and that he was not going to subject himself to public criticism - even in the case of a man as popular as you are.” - </p> - <p> - “That was Wiggin's work!” Carson said, his lips pressed tightly together - as he turned back to the window. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, that's his method. He's the trickiest scamp unhung. Of course, he - can't hope to see you actually convicted of this thing, but he does - evidently think he can have you bound over to trial at the next term of - court, and beat you at the polls in the mean time. He thinks with his - negro incendiary speeches to rouse the lowest element, and the charges - that you've murdered one of your own race to inflame the prejudices of - others, that he can snow you under good and deep. But we've got to make - the best of it. There is no shirking or postponing of this hearing to-day. - Even if the very—the very worst comes,” Garner finished, slowly, as - if shrinking from the words he was uttering, “we can give any bonds the - court may demand.” - </p> - <p> - “But”—and Dwight turned from the window and stood before his friend—“what - if they refuse to take bonds at all and I have to go to jail?” - </p> - <p> - “What do you want to cross a bridge like that for?” Garner demanded, - plainly angered by the sheer possibility in question. - </p> - <p> - Dwight leaned over Garner and put his hand on the dusty shoulder. “<i>That</i> - would kill my mother, old man!” - </p> - <p> - “Do you think so, Carson?” Garner was deeply moved. - </p> - <p> - “I know it, Garner, and her blood would be on my head.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, we must <i>win!</i>” Garner said, and a look of firm determination - came into his eyes; “that is all there is about it. We must win. Eternal - truth and justice are on our side. We must win.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0046" id="link2HCH0046"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XLVI. - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0053" id="linkimage-0053"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9403.jpg" alt="9403 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9403.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - HE big, square court-room was filled to overflowing when at the last - moment Carson and Garner arrived. Just inside the door they found old - Dwight standing, his battered silk hat in his hand, and with an air of - unwonted humility upon him, patiently awaiting their coming. - </p> - <p> - “Is everything all right?” he anxiously whispered to Garner, as he reached - out and caught his son's hand and held on to it. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, all right, Mr. Dwight,” Garner replied; “and is—is your wife—” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, we are safe on that score,” the old man said, encouragingly, to - Carson. “I only slipped away for a minute. I won't wait here, but will - hurry back and stand guard. God bless you, my boy.” When Dwight had turned - towards the door and was moving away, Carson glanced over the crowded - room. All eyes were fixed, it seemed to him, anxiously and sympathetically - on his face. As he passed through the central aisle to reach the railed-in - enclosure where, at his elevated desk, the magistrate sat, gravely - consulting with the State solicitor, Carson's mind was gloomily active - with the numerous instances in which, to his knowledge, innocent men had - been convicted by the complication of circumstantial evidence, in a chair - which Braider was solicitously placing near that of Garner, the young - man's glance again swept the big room. On the last row of benches sat - Linda, Uncle Lewis, and Pete in the company of other negro friends of his. - Their fixed and awed facial expressions added to his gloom. Near the - railing sat “the gang”—Gordon, Tingle, and Bob Smith—their - faces long-drawn. Behind them sat Helen and her father, with Ida Tarpley. - Catching Helen's anxious glance, Carson tried to smile lightly as he - responded to her bow, but there was something in his act which seemed to - him to be empty pretence and rather unworthy of one in his position. - Guilty or innocent in the eyes of the law, he told himself he was there to - rid his character of the gravest charge that could be made against a human - being, and from the indications, as seen by the shrewd Garner, he was not - likely to leave the room a free man. He shuddered as he grimly pictured - Braider—the feeling, sympathetic Braider—coming to him there - before all those eyes and formally placing him under arrest at the order - of the court. He sank to the lowest ebb of despair as he pictured his - mother's hearing of the news. Almost in a daze Carson sat dumb and blind - to the formal proceedings. Like a child, he felt a soothing comfort in the - knowledge that he was leaning on such a skilled friend as that of the - hardened young lawyer at his side, and yet for the first time in his life - he was pitying himself. Things had really gone hard with him. He had tried - his best to do the right thing of late, but fate had at last overpowered - him. He was losing faith in the impulses which had led him, blind under - the blaze of youthful enthusiasm, to that seat here under the cold, - accusing eye of the law. - </p> - <p> - He was drawn out of his lethargy by the clear, ringing, confident voice of - the solicitor. It was a strong, an utterly heartless speech, “the gang” - thought. Duty to the State and public protection was its key-note. - Personally, Mayhew had nothing but the kindliest feeling and strongest - admiration for the defendant. He belonged to one of the best and oldest - families in the South, and was a man of undaunted courage and remarkable - brains. But with all that, Mayhew believed, as he tugged at his heavy - mustache and stared with confident eyes at the magistrate, he could show - that lurking under the creditable and refined exterior of the defendant - was a keenly vindictive nature—a nature that was maddened beyond - forbearance by opposition. The solicitor promised to show by competent - witnesses, when the matter was brought to trial, that Carson Dwight - believed—mark the word <i>believed</i>—without an iota of - proof, that Dan Willis had fired upon him in the mob that was attempting - to lynch Pete Warren. Believing this, your honor, I say, with no sort of - proof, I think the State will have no trouble in establishing the fact - that Dwight had sufficient <i>motive</i> for what was done, and that he - deliberately and with aforethought went armed with no other intent than to - kill Willis. Furthermore, Mayhew could show, he declared, that Dwight had - carefully concealed the deed, letting it go out to the world that the - finding of the coroner's jury was correct, and making no statement to the - contrary till he was driven to it by the encroachments of verifiable rumor - and the certainty of adverse action by the grand jury. That being the - status of the case, the solicitor could only urge upon the court its duty - to hold Carson Dwight on the charge of murder in the first degree. - </p> - <p> - Deep in his slough of depression, Dwight, looking over the breathless - audience, noticed the serious faces he knew and loved. Helen was deathly - pale, and her father sat with bowed head, fingering his gold-headed ebony - cane. Keith Gordon's face was as full of reproach for what the solicitor - had said as that of a grief-stricken woman. Wade Tingle sat flushed with - rebellious anger, and Bob Smith, not grasping the full import of the - high-sounding words, stared from under his neatly plastered hair like a - wondering child at a funeral. It was Mam' Linda's almost savage glare that - more firmly fixed Carson's wandering glance. She sat there, her visage - full of half-savage passion, her large lip hanging low and quivering, her - breast heaving, her eyes gleaming. - </p> - <p> - Carson had not the heart to follow Garner's weak and inadequate plea as - the lawyer stood, his small hands clutched and bloodless behind him. He - had not been able, he said, to reach the witnesses he had expected to - produce, who would swear that Dan Willis, time after time, had pursued the - defendant and made threats against his life, but he felt that a calm - statement of Carson Dwight's would be believed, and that— - </p> - <p> - Here there was a commotion in the room. The bailiff at the door was - talking loudly to some one. The magistrate rapped vigorously for order, - and in the pause that ensued Pole Baker came striding down the aisle, - leading a little woman wearing a black cotton sun-bonnet and dress of the - same material. Leaving her standing, Baker approached Garner and whispered - in his ear. Then, with a suddenly kindling face, the lawyer turned and - whispered to the woman. A moment later he drew himself up to his full - height and said, in a clear, confident voice that reached all parts of the - room: “Your honor, I have a witness here that I want to have sworn.” - </p> - <p> - The district-attorney stood up and stared curiously at the woman. “If I'm - not mistaken that's Dan Willis's mother,” he said, with a smile. “She is a - witness I'm looking for myself.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, you are welcome to what she'll testify,” Garner dryly retorted. - </p> - <p> - A moment later the little woman was on the stand, holding her bonnet in - her hand, her small, wizened face as colorless as parchment, her black - hair brushed as smoothly as patent leather down over her brow and tied in - a small, tight knot behind her head. - </p> - <p> - “Now, Mrs. Willis,” Garner went on, casting a significant glance at - Carson, who was gazing at him in growing wonder, “just tell the court in - your own way what happened at your house the day your son met his death.” - </p> - <p> - The room was very still when she began in a low, quivering voice which, - gradually steadied itself as she continued. - </p> - <p> - “Well,” she said, “Mr. Wiggin come to the fence while we-all was eatin' - our breakfast, an' called Danny out an' they had a talk near the cow-lot. - I don't know what was said, but I was sorry they got together for Mr. - Wiggin always upset Danny an' started 'im to drinkin' and rantin' agin Mr. - Dwight here in town.” - </p> - <p> - She paused a moment, and then Garner, leaning easily on the back of his - chair, said, encouragingly: “All right, Mrs. Willis, you are doing very - well. Now, just go ahead and tell the court all that took place to the - best of your recollection.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, thar wasn't much to recollect that happened right thar <i>at home</i>,” - the witness went on, plaintively; “of course, the shootin' tuck place - about a mile from thar on the—” - </p> - <p> - “Pardon me, Mrs. Willis,” Garner interrupted. “You are getting the cart - before the horse. I want you to tell his honor how your son acted when he - came into the house after his talk with Mr. Wiggin.” - </p> - <p> - “Why, when Danny fust come in, Mr. Garner, he went to the bureau drawyer - and tuck out his revolver an' loaded it thar before us, cussin' at every - breath agin Mr. Dwight. I tried to calm 'im down, an' so did my brother - George, but he was as nigh crazy as I ever saw any human bein' in my life. - He said he was goin' straight to Darley an' kill Carson Dwight, if he had - to go to his daddy's house an' drag 'im out of his bed. He said he'd tried - it once an' slipped up, but that if he missed again he'd kill hisse'f in - disgust.” - </p> - <p> - “I see, I see,” Garner said, in the pause that ensued. He stroked his - smooth chin with his tapering fingers and opened and shut his mouth, and - he kept his eyes on the ceiling as if the witness had made the most - ordinary sort of statement. He leaned again on the back of his chair, and - then lowering his glance to the face of the witness, he asked: “Did you - gather from Dan's talk that morning, Mrs. Willis, when it was that he made - the <i>first</i> attempt on the life of Carson Dwight?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I don't know as I did <i>then</i>,” the woman answered; “but he - told us about it the day after he fired the shot.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, he did!” Garner's face was still a study of guileless indifference, - and he stroked his chin again, his eyes now on the floor, his arms folded - across his breast. “What day was that, Mrs. Willis?” - </p> - <p> - “Why, the day after Mr. Dwight kept the mob from hangin' old Lindy - Warren's boy.” - </p> - <p> - Profound astonishment was now visible on every countenance except that of - Garner. “I never knew positively before <i>who</i> fired that shot,” he - said, carelessly, “though, of course, I had an idea who did it. So Dan - admitted that?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, he told us about that, and about tryin' to git at Mr. Dwight several - other times.” - </p> - <p> - “I reckon you are satisfied in your own mind that if Mr. Dwight hadn't - defended himself Dan would have killed him?” Garner pursued, adroitly. - </p> - <p> - “I know he would, Mr. Garner, an' when I heard the report that Danny had - shot hisse'f by accident, while he was practisin' with his pistol, I was - reconciled to it. I didn't think Mr. Dwight was to blame. I always thought - he was doin' the best he could, an' that politics caused the bad blood. I - always liked 'im, to tell the truth. I'd heard that he was a friend to the - pore an' humble, even to pore old niggers, an' somehow I felt relieved - when I heard he'd escaped my boy. I knowed Danny meant murder an' that no - good could come of it. I'd a sight ruther know a child of mine was dead - an' in the hands of his Maker than tied up in jail waitin' to be publicly - hung in the end. No, it is better like it is, though if I may be allowed - to say so, I can't for the life of me, understand what you-all have got - Mr. Dwight hauled up here like this, when his mother is in sech a delicate - condition. Good Lord, he hain't done nothin' to be tried for!” - </p> - <p> - “That will do, Mrs. Willis,” Garner was heard to say, his voice harshly - stirring the emotion-packed stillness of the room; “that will do, unless - my brother Mayhew wants to ask you some questions.” - </p> - <p> - “The State has no case, your honor,” Mayhew said, with a sickly smile. - “The truth is, I think we've all been imbibing too freely of politics. I - confess I've listened to Wiggin myself. It looks like, failing to get Dan - Willis to kill Dwight, he's set about trying to have it done by law. Your - honor, the State is out of the case.” - </p> - <p> - There was a pause of astonishment and then the truth burst upon the - audience. Realizing that Carson Dwight was more than a free man, - vindicated, restored to them, “the gang” rose as a man and yelled. Led by - Pole Baker and the enthusiastic Braider, they pressed around him, climbing - over the railing and crushing chairs to splinters. Then, amid the shouts - and glad tears of the spectators, the most popular man in the county was - raised perforce upon the stout shoulders of Baker and Braider and borne - down the aisle towards the door. - </p> - <p> - Above the heads of all, Carson, flushed with confusion, glanced over the - room. Immediately in front of him stood Helen. She was looking straight - and eagerly at him, her face aglow, her eyes filled with tears. She paused - with her father just outside the door, and as “the gang” bore their - struggling and protesting hero past, she raised her hand to him. Blushing - in fresh embarrassment, he took it, only to have it torn from him the next - instant. - </p> - <p> - “Let me down, Pole!” he cried. - </p> - <p> - “No, sir, we don't let you down!” Pole shouted. “We've got it in for you. - We are goin' to lynch you!” - </p> - <p> - The crowd, appreciating the joke, thereupon raised the queerest cry that - ever burst from breasts surcharged with joy. - </p> - <p> - “Lynch him!” they yelled. “Lynch him!” - </p> - <p> - Half an hour afterwards Carson went home. His father was at the fence - looking for him. He had heard the news and his old face was beaming with - joy as he opened the gate for his son and took him into his arms. - </p> - <p> - “How's mother?” was Carson's first inquiry. - </p> - <p> - “She's all right and she knows, too?” - </p> - <p> - “She knows!” Carson exclaimed, aghast. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, old Mrs. Parsons was the first to bring me the news, and she assured - me she could impart it to your mother in such a way as not to shock her at - all.” - </p> - <p> - “And you let her?” Carson said, anxiously. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, and she did the slickest piece of work I ever heard of. I knew she - was considered a wonderful woman, but she's the smoothest article I ever - met. I laughed till I cried. I was in the mood for laughing, anyway. Mrs. - Parsons began by adroitly working your mother up to such a pitch of fury - against Willis for his nagging pursuit of you that your mother could have - shot him herself, and then, in an off-hand way, Mrs. Parsons led on to the - meeting between you. Willis had his gun in your face, and was about to - pull the trigger, when your pistol went off and saved your life. She went - on to say that Dan's mother had just been to the court-house testifying - that her son had tried to murder you, and that she didn't blame you in the - slightest. I declare, Mrs. Parsons actually made it appear that Willis was - on trial instead of you. Anyway, it's all right. We've got nothing to fear - now.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0047" id="link2HCH0047"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XLVII. - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0054" id="linkimage-0054"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> - <img src="images/9413.jpg" alt="9413 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9413.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - IX weeks later the election came off. - </p> - <p> - It was no “walk-over” for Carson. Wiggin seemed only more desperately - spurred on by every exposition of his underhand chicanery. He died hard. - He fought with his nose in the mire, but, throwing honor to the winds, he - fought. Carson Dwight's stand on the negro question was Wiggin's strongest - weapon. It was a torch with which the candidate could inflame the breasts - of a certain class of men at a moment's notice. He was a crude but - powerful speaker, and wherever he went he left smouldering or raging - fires. Pledged to him were the lowest order of men, and they fought for - him and worked for him like bandits in the dark. Over these men he wielded - a sword of fear. Carson Dwight's intention in getting to the legislature - was to make laws against lynching, and every man who had ever protected - his home and fireside by summary justice to the black brutes would be - ferreted out and imprisoned for life. But Dwight's more gentle and saner - reasoning, backed by his heroic conduct of the past, held sway. He was - elected. He was not only elected, but, as the exponent of a new issue, the - news of his election was telegraphed all over the South. He had written - some articles for Wade Tingle's paper which had been widely copied and - commented on, and his political course was watched by many conservative - thinkers, who prophesied a remarkable career for him. He was a fearless - man, with a new voice, who had taken a radical stand based on humanitarian - and Christian principles. Family history was simply repeating itself. His - ancestors had stood for the humane treatment of the slaves thrust upon - them by circumstances, and he, in the same hereditary spirit, was standing - for kind, just treatment of those ex-slaves and their descendants. No man - who knew him would have accused him of believing in the social equality of - the races any more than they would earlier have brought the same charge - against his ancestors. - </p> - <p> - On the night the returns were brought in and it was known that he had - triumphed, “the gang” had arranged a big pine torch-light procession, and - it passed with its blaze and din through every street of the town. Carson - was at home when they lined themselves, in all their tooting of horns, - beating of drums, and general clatter, along the front fence. The town - brass-band did its best, and every sort of transparency that the inventive - mind of Wade Tingle could devise was borne, as if by the smoke and heat of - the torches themselves, above the long procession. - </p> - <p> - Garner separated himself from the throng, and, clad in a new and costly - suit of clothes, a tribute to his engagement to Miss Tarpley—a fine - black frock-coat, broadcloth trousers, and a silk hat—he made his - way into the house and up the stairs to the veranda above, where Carson - and his mother and father were standing. - </p> - <p> - “The boys want a speech,” he said to Carson, “and you've got to give them - the best in your shop. By George, they deserve it.” Carson was demurring, - but his mother pressed him to comply, and Garner, with his stateliest - strut, his coat buttoned so tightly at the waist that, the tails spread - out as if inviting him to sit down, and his hat held on a level with his - left shoulder, advanced to the balustrade, and in his happiest mood - introduced the man who, he declared, was the broadest-minded, the most - conscientious and fearless candidate that ever trod the boards of a - political platform. They were to receive the expression of gratitude and - appreciation of a man whose name was written upon every heart present. - Garner had the distinguished honor and pride to introduce his law partner - and close friend, the Hon. Carson Dwight. - </p> - <p> - Carson never spoke better in his life. What he said was from a boyish - heart overflowing with content and good-will. When he had finished Mrs. - Dwight rose from her chair and proudly stood by his side. The cheers at - her appearance rent the air. Then Garner pushed old Dwight forward from - the shadow of a column where he was standing, and as the old gentleman - awkwardly bowed his greeting, the cheers broke out afresh. Bob Smith, who - was a sort of drum-major, with a ribbon-wound walking-cane for a baton, - struck up, “For he's a jolly good fellow,” and as the crowd sang it to the - spluttering and jangling accompaniment of the band the procession moved - down the street. - </p> - <p> - At this juncture Major Warren came up to offer his congratulations. Carson - was standing a few minutes later talking to Garner. He was trying to hear - what his partner was saying in his bubbling and enthusiastic way about his - engagement to Miss Tarpley, but he found it difficult to listen, for the - conversation between his mother and Major Warren had fixed his attention. - </p> - <p> - “I tried to get her to come over to hear the speech, but she wouldn't,” - the Major was saying. “I can't make her out here lately, Mrs. Dwight. She - used to be so different in anything concerning Carson. She is now actually - hiding behind the vines on the veranda.” - </p> - <p> - “Perhaps she is so much in love with Mr. Sanders that she—” - </p> - <p> - “That's the very point,” the Major broke in. “She won't talk about - Sanders, and she—well, really, I think the two have quit writing to - each other.” - </p> - <p> - “Perhaps she—oh, do you think, Major, that—” Carson heard no - more; his father had come forward and was talking to Garner. - </p> - <p> - Carson slipped away. He glided down the stairs and out at the door on the - side next to Warren's and rapidly strode across the grass. Passing through - the little gateway, he reached the veranda and the vines concealing the - spot where the hammock was hanging. He saw no one at first and heard no - sound. Then he called out: “Helen!” - </p> - <p> - “What is it?” a timid, even startled voice from the vines answered, and - Helen looked out. - </p> - <p> - “Why didn't you come over with your father?” Carson asked. “He said he - wanted you to, but you preferred to stay here.” - </p> - <p> - “I <i>did</i> want to congratulate you,” Helen, said, as he came up the - steps and they stood face to face. “I'm so happy over it, Carson, that - really I was afraid I'd show it too much.” - </p> - <p> - “I'm glad you feel that way,” he said, awkwardly. “It was a hard fight, - and I thought several times I was beaten.” - </p> - <p> - “What did you ever touch that wasn't hard?” she said, with a sweet, - reminiscent laugh. - </p> - <p> - They were silent for a moment and then he said: “I'm not quite satisfied - with your reason for not coming over with your father just now—really, - you see, it is in a line with your actions for the last six weeks. Helen, - you actually have avoided me.” - </p> - <p> - “On the contrary,” she said, “you have made it a point to stay away from - me.” - </p> - <p> - “Well,” he sighed, “considering, you know, Sanders and his claims, I - really thought I'd better keep my place.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh!” Helen exclaimed, and then she sank deeper into the vines. - </p> - <p> - For one instant he stood trembling before her, and then he asked, boldly: - “Helen, tell me, are you engaged to him?” - </p> - <p> - She made no answer for a moment, and then in the moonlight he saw her - flushed face against the vines and caught an almost startled glance from - her wonderful eyes. She looked straight at him. - </p> - <p> - “No, I'm not, and I never have been,” she said. - </p> - <p> - “You never have been?” he repeated. “Oh, Helen—” But he went no - further. For a moment he hung fire, then he said: “Don't you care for him, - Helen? Are you and I good enough friends for me to dare to ask that?” - </p> - <p> - “I thought once that I might love him, in time” she faltered; “but when I - came home and found—and found how deeply I had misunderstood and - wronged you, I—I—” She broke off, her face buried in the - leaves of the vines. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, Helen!” he cried; “do you realize what you are saying to me? You know - my whole life is wrapped up in you. Don't raise my hopes to-night unless - there is at least some chance of my winning. If there is one little - chance, I'll struggle for it all the rest of my life.” - </p> - <p> - “Do you remember,” she asked, looking at him, one side of her flushed face - pressed against the vines—“do you remember the night you told me in - the garden about that awful trouble of yours, and I promised to bear it - with you?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes,” he said, wonderingly. - </p> - <p> - “Well,” she went on, “I went straight to my room after I left you and - wrote to Mr. Sanders. I told him exactly how I felt. I simply couldn't - keep up a correspondence with him after—Carson, I knew that night - when I left you there in your gloom and sorrow that I loved you with all - my soul and body. Oh, Carson, when I heard your voice in your glorious - speech just now, and knew that you have loved me all this time, I was so - glad that I cried. I'm the happiest, proudest girl on earth.” - </p> - <p> - And as they stood hand in hand, too joyful for utterance, the glow of his - triumph lit the sky and the din and clatter, the song and shouts of those - who loved him were borne to him on the breeze. - </p> - <h3> - THE END - </h3> - <div style="height: 6em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Mam' Linda, by Will N. 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