CHAPTER TWENTY
_Gabriel at the Big Poplar_
Late one afternoon, at a date when the tension between the two races wasat its worst, Gabriel chanced to be sitting under the great poplar whichwas for years, and no doubt is yet, one of the natural curiosities ofShady Dale, on account of its size and height. He had been reading, butthe light had grown dim as the sun dipped behind the hills, and he nowsat with his eyes closed. His seat at the foot of the tree was not farfrom the public highway, though that fact did not add to its attractionsfrom Gabriel's point of view. He preferred the seat for sentimentalreasons. He had played there when a little lad, and likewise Nan hadplayed there; and they had both played there together. The old poplarwas hollow, and on one side the bark and a part of the trunk hadsloughed away. Here Gabriel and Nan had played housekeeping, many andmany a day before the girl had grown tired of her dolls. The hollowformed a comfortable playhouse, and the youngsters, in addition tohousekeeping, had enjoyed little make-believe parties and picnics there.
As Gabriel sat leaning against the old poplar, his back to the road andhis eyes closed, he heard the sound of men's voices. The conversationwas evidently between country folk who had been spending a part of theday in town. Turning his head, Gabriel saw that there were threepersons, one riding and two walking. Directly opposite the tree whereGabriel sat, they met an acquaintance who was apparently making abelated visit to town.
"Hello, boys!" said the belated one by way of salutation. "I 'low'd I'dfind you in town, an' have company on my way home."
"What's the matter, Sam?" asked one of the others. "This ain't no timeof day to be gwine away from home."
"Well, I'm jest obliged to git some ammunition," replied Sam. "I've beenoff to mill mighty nigh all day, an' this evenin', about four o'clock,whilst my wife was out in the yard, a big buck nigger stopped at thegate, an' looked at her. She took no notice of him one way or another,an' presently, he ups an' says, 'Hello, Sissy! can't you tell a fellerhowdy?'"
"_He did?_" cried the others. Gabriel could hear their gasps ofastonishment and indignation from where he sat.
"He said them very words," replied Sam; "'Hello, Sissy! can't you tell afeller howdy?'"
"Did you leave anybody at home?" inquired one of the others.
"You bet your sweet life!" replied Sam in the slang of the day. "JohnnyBivins is there, an' he ain't no slouch, Johnny ain't. I says to Molly,says I, 'Johnny will camp here till I can run to town, an' git me somepowder an' buckshot.'"
"We have some," one of the others suggested.
"Better let 'im go on an' git it," said another; "we can't have too muchin our neck of the woods when things look like they do now. We'll waitfor you, Sam, if you'll hurry up."
"Good as wheat!" responded Sam, who went rapidly toward town.
"I tell you what, boys, we didn't make up our minds about this businessa single minute too soon," remarked one of the three who were waitingfor the return of their neighbour. "Somethin's got to be done, an' thesooner it's done, the sooner it'll be over with."
"You're talkin' now with both hands and tongue!" declared one of theothers, in a tone of admiration.
"You'll see," remarked the one who had proposed to wait, "that Sam isjest as ripe as we are. We know what we know, an' Sam knows what heknows. I don't know as I blame the niggers much. Look at it from theirside of the fence. They see these d--d white hellians goin' roun',snortin' an' preachin' ag'in the whites, an' they see us settin' down,hands folded and eyes shet, and they jest natchally think we're whippedand cowed. Can you blame 'em? I hate 'em all right enough, but I don'tblame 'em."
Gabriel knew that the man who was speaking was George Rivers, a smallfarmer living a short distance in the country. His companions were TomAlford and Britt Hanson, and the man who had gone to town for theammunition was Sam Hathaway.
"Are you right certain an' shore that this man Hotchkiss is stayin' wi'Mahlon Butts?" George Rivers inquired.
"He lopes out from there every mornin'," replied Tom Alford.
"Mahlon allers was the biggest skunk in the woods," remarked Hanson."He's runnin' for ordinary. I happened to hear him talkin' to a lot ofniggers t'other day, and I went up and cussed him out. I wanted theniggers to see how chicken-hearted he is. Well, sirs, he never turned afeather. I never seed a more lamblike man in my life. I started to spitin his face, and then I happened to think about his wife. Yes, sirs, itseemed to me for about the space of a second or two that I was lookin'right spang in Becky's big eyes, an' I couldn't 'a' said a word or donea thing to save my life. I jest whirled in my tracks and went on aboutmy business. You-all know Becky Butts--well, there's a woman that comesmighty nigh bein' a saint. Why she married sech a rapscallion as Mahlon,I'll never tell you, an' I don't believe she knows herself. But she'sall that's saved Mahlon."
"That's the Lord's truth," responded Tom Alford.
"Why, when he first j'ined the stinkin' radicals," continued BrittHanson, "a passel of the boys, me among 'em, laid off to pay him a partycall, an' string him up. Well, the very day we'd fixed on, here comesBecky over to my house; an' she fetched the baby, too. I knowed, time Ilaid eyes on her, that she had done got wind of what we was up to. Saysshe to me, 'Britt, I hear it whispered around that you are fixin' up todo me next to the worst harm a man can do to a woman.' 'Why, Becky,'says I, 'I wouldn't harm you for the world, and I wouldn't let anybodyelse do it.' 'Oh, yes, you would, Britt,' says she. She laughed as shesaid it, but when I looked in her big eyes, I could see trouble and painin 'em. I says to her, says I, 'What put that idee in your head, Becky?'And says she, 'No matter how it got there, Britt, so long as it's there.You're fixin' up to hurt me an' my baby.'
"Well, sirs, you can see where she had me. I says, says I, 'Becky,what's to hender you from takin' supper here to-night?' This kinder tookher by surprise. She says, 'I'd like it the best in the world, Britt;but don't you think I'd better be at home--to-night?' 'No,' says I, 'apassel of the boys'll be here d'reckly after supper, and I reckon maybethey'd like to see you. You know yourself that they're all mighty fondof you, Becky,' says I. She sorter studied awhile, an' then she says,'I'll tell you what I'll do, Britt--I'll come over after supper an' setawhile.' 'You ain't afeard to come?' says I. 'No, Britt,' says she; 'Iain't afeard of nothin' in this world except my friends.' She waslaughin', but they ain't much diff'ence betwixt that kind of laughin'an' cryin'.
"About that time, mother come in. Says she, 'An' be shore an' fetch thebaby, Becky.' The minnit mother said that, I know'd that she was the onethat told Becky what we had laid off to do. You-all know what happenedafter that."
"We do that away," said George Rivers. "When I walked in on you, andseen Becky an' the baby, I know'd purty well that the jig was up, but Ithought I'd set it out and see what'd happen."
"I never seen a baby do like that'n done that night," remarked TomAlford. "It laughed an' it crowed, an' helt out its han's to go to ever'blessed feller in the crowd; an' Becky looked like she was the happiestcreetur in the world. I was the fust feller to cave, an' I didn't feel abit sheepish about it, neither. I rose, I did, an' says, 'Well, boys,it's about my bedtime, an' I reckon I'll toddle along,' an' so I handedthe baby to the next feller, an' mosied off home."
"You did," said Britt Hanson, "an' by the time the boys got throughpassin' the baby to the next feller, there wan't any feller left but me.An' then the funniest thing happened that you ever seed. You know howBecky was gwine on, laughin' an' talkin'. Well, the last man hadn'thardly shet the door behind him, when Becky flopped down and put herhead in mother's lap, and cried like a baby. I'm mighty glad I ain'tmarried," Britt Hanson went on. "There ain't a man in the world thatknows a woman's mind. Why, Becky was runnin' on and laughin' jest like agal at picnic up to the minnit the last man slammed the door, and then,down she went and began to boohoo. Now, what do you think of that?"
"I know one thing," remarked George Rivers--"the meaner a man is, thequicker he gits the pick of the flock. The biggest fool in the worldallers gits the best
or the purtiest gal."
Then there was a pause, as if the men were listening. "Well," said TomAlford, after awhile, "we ain't after the gals now. That Hotchkissfeller goes out to Mahlon's by fust one road and then the other. Youknow where Ike Varner lives; well, Ike's wife is a mighty good-lookin'yaller gal, an' when Hotchkiss knows that Ike ain't at home, he goes bythat road. I got all that from a nigger that works for me. If Ike ain'tat home, he goes in for a drink of water, an' then he tells the yallergal how to convert Ike into bein' a radical--Ike, you know, don't flockwith that crowd. That's what the gal tells my nigger. Well, I put a fleain Ike's ear t'other day, an' night before last, Ike comes to me toborry my pistol. You know that short, single-barrel shebang? Well, Iloant it to him on the express understandin' that he wasn't to shoot anyspring doves nor wild pea-fowls."
The men laughed, and then sat or stood silent, each occupied with hisown reflections, until Sam Hathaway returned. Whereupon, they moved on,one of them singing, in a surprisingly sweet tenor, the ballad of "NellyGray."
It was now dark, and ordinarily, Gabriel would have gone to supper. But,instead of doing that, he went on toward town, and met Hotchkiss andBoring on the outskirts. They were engaged in a close discussion whenGabriel met them. It would have been a great deal better for him and hisfriends if he had passed on without a word; but Gabriel was Gabriel, andhe was compelled to act according to Gabriel's nature. So, withouthesitation, he walked up to the two men.
"Is this Mr. Hotchkiss?" he inquired.
"That is my name," replied Hotchkiss in his smoothest tone.
"Are you going out to Butts's to-night?"
"Now, that is a queer question," remarked Hotchkiss, after a pause--"avery queer question. What is your name?"
"Tolliver--Gabriel Tolliver."
"Gabriel Tolliver--h'm--yes. Well, Mr. Tolliver, why are you so desirousof knowing whether I go to Butts's to-night?"
"Honestly," replied Gabriel, a little nettled at the man's airs, "Idon't want to know at all. I simply wanted to advise you not to go thereto-night."
"Oh, you wanted to _advise_ me not to go. Now, then, let's go a littlefurther into the matter. _Why_ do you want to advise me?" Hotchkiss wasa man who was not only ripe for a discussion at all times, and upon anysubject, but made it a point to emphasise all the most trifling details."Have you any special interest in my welfare?"
"I think not," replied Gabriel, bluntly. "I simply wanted to drop you ahint. You can take it or not, just as you choose." With that, he turnedon his heel, and went home to supper, little dreaming that his kindnessof heart, and his sincere efforts to do a stranger a favour wouldinvolve him in a tangled web of circumstances, from which he would findit almost impossible to escape.
Gabriel heard Hotchkiss laugh, but he did not hear the remark thatfollowed.
"Why, even the children and the young men think I am a coward. They havethe idea that courage exists nowhere but among themselves. It is themost peculiar mental delusion I ever heard, and it persists in the faceof facts. The probability is that the young man who has just deliveredthis awful warning has laid a wager with some of his companions that hecan fill me full of fright and prevent my going to Butts's."
"Now, I don't think that," replied Boring, or Bridalbin. "I know thesepeople to the core. I had their ideas and thought their thoughts until Ifound that sentiment doesn't pay. That young man has probably heard somethreat made against you, and he thinks he is doing the chivalrous thingto give you a warning. Chivalry! Why, I reckon that word has done moreharm to this section, first and last, than the war itself."
"Or, more probable still," suggested Hotchkiss, his voice as smooth andas flexible as a snake, "he was simply trying to find out whether Ipropose to go to Butts's to-night. If I had some one to keep an eye onhim, we might be able to procure some important information, disclosinga conspiracy against the officers of the Government. A few arrests inthis neighbourhood might have a wholesome and subduing effect."
"Don't you believe it," said Bridalbin. "I know these people a greatdeal better than you do."
"I know them a great deal better than I care to," remarked Hotchkissdrily. "I have not a doubt that this young Tolliver was one of thatmarauding band of conspirators that surrounded the church recently, andendeavoured to intimidate our coloured fellow-citizens. Nor do I doubtthat these same conspirators will make an effort to frighten me. I haveno doubt that they will make a strong effort to run me away. But theycan't do it, my friend. I feel that I have a mission here, and here Ipropose to stay until there is no work for me to do."
"Well, I can keep an eye on Tolliver if you think it best," Bridalbinsuggested somewhat doubtfully. "I know where he lives."
"Do that, Boring," exclaimed Hotchkiss with grateful enthusiasm. "Cometo the lodge about nine or half-past, and report." The "lodge" was thenew name for the old school-house, and in that direction Hotchkissturned his steps.
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