The Homesteader: A Novel

by Oscar Micheaux

  CHAPTER XII

  MISS STEWART RECEIVES A CALLER

  Coincident with the finding of Peter Kaden's body in the well, certainthings became public with regard to others. But to complete this part ofit. After finding the body Jean Baptiste hurried into Dallas and gavethe alarm. Excitement ran high for a time, and as it was Sunday, in afew hours the spot around the well was crowded. From over all thereservation the people came, and the consensus of opinion was that itwas suicide.... Perhaps Jean Baptiste was the only one who had hisdoubts. If it was suicide, then he was positive it was a precipitatedsuicide.

  Until the coroner arrived there was no disposition made of the remains,and when he did, the decision of suicide was sustained.

  Since the man Baptiste had started to see was brought to the spot by theexcitement, the business in hand was settled thereupon, and thatevening, he went to call on the Stewarts with a view to hiring Bill.

  He found Agnes alone, but was invited to enter. From her expression, hecould see that he was expected, and while he waited for her father whohad gone across the road, they fell into amiable conversation.

  "Springtime is knocking at our door," he ventured.

  "And I am glad to see it, and suppose you are also," she answered.

  "Who isn't! It has been a very severe winter."

  "I think so, too. Are the winters here as a rule as cold as this one hasbeen?" How modest he thought she was. She was dressed neatly in a satinshirtwaist and tailored skirt; while from beneath the skirts her smallfeet incased in heavy shoes peeped like mice. Her neck rose out of herbodice and he thought her throat was so very round and white; while henoticed her prominent chin more today than he had before. He liked it.Nature had been his study, and he didn't like a retreating chin. It, tohis mind, was an indication of weak will, with exceptions perhaps hereand there. He reposed more confidence in the person, however, when thechin was like hers, so naturally he was interested. As she sat beforehim with folded hands, he also observed her heavy hair, done into braidsand gathered about her head. It gave her an unostentatious expression;while her eyes were as he had found them before, baffling.

  "Why, no, they are not," he said. "Of course I have not seen many--infact this is the second; but I am advised that, as a rule, the wintersare very mild for this latitude."

  "I see. I hope they will always be so if we continue to live here," andshe laughed pleasantly.

  "How do you like it in our country?" he inquired now, pleased to be inconversation with her.

  "Why, I like it very well," she replied amiably. "What I have seen ofit, I think I would as soon live here as back in Indiana."

  "I have been in Indiana myself."

  "You have?" She was cheered with the fact. He nodded.

  "Yes, all over. What part of Indiana do you come from?"

  "Rensselaer," she replied, shifting with comfort, and delighted that byhis having been in Indiana, he was making their conversation easier.

  "Oh, I see," she heard him. "That is toward the northern part of thestate."

  "Yes," she replied in obvious delight.

  "I have never been to that town, but I have been all around it."

  "Well, well!" She was at a loss in the moment how to proceed and thenpresently she said:

  "You have traveled considerably, Mr. Baptiste, I understand."

  He felt somewhat flattered to know that she had discussed him withothers apparently.

  "Well, yes, I have," he replied slowly.

  "That must be fine. I long so much to travel."

  "You have not traveled far?"

  "No. From Indiana to Western Kansas where we were most starved out, andthen back to Indiana and out here." He laughed, she also joined in andthey felt nearer each other by it.

  "And how do you like it, Mr. Baptiste?"

  "Out here, you mean?"

  "Yes, why, yes, of course," she added hastily.

  "Why, I like it fine. I'm thoroughly in love with the country."

  "That's nice. And you own such nice land, I don't wonder," she saidthoughtfully.

  "Oh, well," he replied, modestly, "I think I should like it anyhow."

  "Of course; but when one has property--such nice land as you own, theyhave everything to like it for."

  "I'm compelled to agree with you."

  "I'm sorry we don't own any," she said regretfully. "But of course in away we are not entitled to. We didn't get in 'on the ground floor,'therefore we must be satisfied as renters."

  He was silent but attentive.

  "Papa never seems to have been very fortunate. It may be due to hisquaint old fashioned manner, but he has never owned any land at all,poor fellow." She said the last more to herself than to him. He wasinterested and continued to listen.

  "We went to Western Kansas with a little money and very good stock, andwere dried out two years straight, and the third year when we had a goodcrop with a chance to get back at least a little of what we had lost,along came a big hail storm and pounded everything into the ground."

  "Wasn't that too bad!" he cried sympathetically.

  "It sure was! It is awfully discouraging to work as hard and to havesacrificed as much as we had, and then come out as we did. It just tookall the ambition out of him."

  "I shouldn't wonder," he commented tenderly.

  "And then we went back to Indiana--broke, of course, and having no moneyand no stock; because we had to sell what we had left to get out ofWestern Kansas. So since 'beggars can't be choosers' we had to take whatwe could get. And that was a poor farm in a remote part of Indiana, in alittle place that was so poor that the corn was all nubbins. They calledit 'Nubbin Ridge.'"

  He laughed, and she had to also when she thought of it.

  "Well, we were able to live and pay a little on some more stock. Becausemy brothers didn't take much to run around with like other boys butstayed home and worked, we finally succeeded in getting just a littlesomething together again and then a real estate man came along and toldus about this place, so here we are." She bestowed a smile upon him andsighed. She had told more of themselves than she had intended, but ithad been a pleasant diversion at that; moreover, she was delightedbecause he was such an attentive listener.

  "So that is how you came here?" he essayed. "I have enjoyed listening toyou. Your lives read like an interesting book."

  "Oh, that isn't fair. You are joking with me!" Notwithstanding, sheblushed furiously.

  "No, no, indeed," he protested.

  She believed him. Strangely she reposed such confidence in the man thatshe felt she could sit and talk with him forever.

  "But it is certainly too bad that you have been so unfortunate. I amsure it will not always be so. You are perseverant, I see, and 'richescome to him who waits.'"

  "An old saying, but I hope it will not wait too long. Papa is gettingold, and--my brothers would be unable to manage with any effectalone...." He understood her and the incident was overlooked.

  "Your mother is dead?"

  "Yes, my mother is dead, Mr. Baptiste."

  "Oh."

  "Died when I was a baby."

  "Well, well...."

  "I never knew her."

  "Well, I do say!" He paused briefly, while she was silent but thinkingdeeply.... Thinking of what her father had started to say and neverfinished.

  "And I venture to say that you have just about raised yourself?"

  She blushed.

  "You must be a wonderful girl."

  She blushed again and twisted her hands about. She tried to protest; butcouldn't trust herself to say anything just then. How she liked to hearhim talk!

  "You have my best wishes, believe me," he was at a loss for the momentas to how to proceed.

  "Oh, thank you." She didn't dare raise her eyes. He regarded her as shesat before him, blushing so beautifully, and wished they were of thesame race.... Footsteps were heard at that moment, and both sat upexpectantly. Quickly, then, she rose to her feet and went to the doorand opened it in time to meet her father
who was about to enter.

  "Oh, it's you, father! I'm glad you've come. Mr. Baptiste is here to seeyou."

  "Ah-ha, Mr. Baptiste, I am honored," cried Jack Stewart, her father, andhe marched forward with outstretched hand and much ado; Scotchpropriety.

  "Glad to know you, Judge," Baptiste returned warmly, grasping theproffered hand.

  "Be seated, be seated and make yourself comfortable; make yourself athome," he said, pushing forward the chair out of which Baptiste hadrisen. Agnes was smiling pleasantly. She could see that the two weregoing to become friends, for both were so frank in their demeanor.

  "Now, Aggie, you must prepare supper for Mr. Baptiste and myself," hesaid, taking hold of her arm.

  "Oh, no," disdained Baptiste. "Don't think of it!"

  "Now, now, my worthy friend," admonished Stewart, and then stopped."Why--you have met my daughter?"

  "Yes, we have met," they spoke in the same breath, exchanging glances.

  "Then, while you fix us something good to eat, we will discuss ourbusiness."

  They found no difficulty in reaching a bargain in regard to Bill, thebargain being that Bill was to board home and sleep there also; and theconsideration was to be one dollar per day, and by the time this wascompleted, Agnes called them to supper.

  "This is an unexpected pleasure, even though it be an intrusion," saidBaptiste as he was gently urged into a seat.

  "Ah-ha, and I see you have a sense of humor," whereupon Jack Stewart'seyes glistened humorously behind the old style glasses he wore. Baptistecolored unseen, while Agnes regarded him smilingly.

  "We haven't much, but what is here you are welcome to," she said.

  "It's a feast," said he.

  "About as good as baching, anyhow," joined Stewart.

  "Hush!"

  "How do you like it?"

  "Didn't I say hush? That should be sufficient!" Agnes took a seat andsurveyed the table carefully to see that all was there. Her father waspious. He blessed the table, and when this was over, fell to eating withhis knife.

  "By the way," cried Baptiste near the end of the meal. "Did you hear thenews?"

  "What news," they asked in chorus.

  "The man dead in the well."

  "Is that so!" they exclaimed, shocked.

  He then told them in detail all about the finding of the body, and theopinion that it was a suicide. They listened with the usual awe andcuriosity. But Jean Baptiste did not voice his suspicions, or tell themanything he knew. At a later hour he took his leave.

  And neither of the three realized then that the self-same tragedylinked strangely an after event in their lives. But when Jean Baptistewent over the hill to his sod house that stood on the claim, JackStewart went outside and walked around for almost an hour. He wasthinking. Thinking of something he knew and had never told.