The Homesteader: A Novel

by Oscar Micheaux

  CHAPTER XI

  THE BISHOP'S INQUISITION

  The reverend McCarthy was commonly regarded as a good politician inchurch affairs, meaning, that he was successful with the Bishop in beingable to hold the office of Presiding Elder over such a long period. Atevery conference other aspirants attempted to oust him. But he hadalways held with the Bishop and had succeeded himself annually until thefive-year limit had expired. At the end of this time he had usuallysucceeded in manipulating matters in such a manner that he hadinvariably been successful in securing the same appointment over anotherdistrict in the state. Over this he presided another five years, and wasthen automatically transferred back to the district over which he hadformerly presided. For twenty years he had been successful in keepingthis up, but in the conference that was to convene after he had beensued by his son-in-law, it became known and talked about that he wouldnot be re-appointed to the Presiding Eldership, and would necessarily besent to a charge for a year or more.

  Accordingly, he began early to seek a charge which he was in position toknow would be lucrative, since there were few outside the large churchesin Chicago that would pay as well as the Presiding Eldership.

  The fact was, however, he regretted going back to a charge, for hisformer experience in such work, in gaining and retaining the confidenceof the members of his church had not been ideal, to say the least. Andagain, it was expedient that he should have his family, especially hiswife, living in the town with him where he held the charge. Perhaps thatmade it awkward for him, as he was not accustomed to having his wife insuch close proximity with him daily. His regard for her was such that hecould not bear the thought of that close association. For his experiencehad been that it was impossible for him to be in the house with her amatter of two days without losing his patience and speaking harshly toher. To avoid this unpleasant domestic state of affairs it had beenagreed that Orlean should be his housekeeper, and this was settled onbefore conference--and before he had been sued.

  This pending suit, however, brought added complications. Ever since hehad brought Orlean home, he had been embarrassed by gossips. Nowhere hadhe been able to turn unless some busy-body must stop him and inquirewith regard to his daughter; what was the matter, etc., and so on. Itkept him explaining and re-explaining, a subject that was to say theleast, delicate. He had, however, succeeded in explaining and conveyingthe impression that the man she married had mistreated and neglectedher, and that he had been compelled to go and get her in order to saveher life. This was not satisfactory to him in view of the fact that hedecided once to let her return, but Jean Baptiste not knowing that hehad reached such a decision, had felt that his only chance to secure heragain was to keep away from her father--well, we know the result of thateffort.

  But inasmuch as that Jean Baptiste had refused to argue with him overher, he had used this as an excuse to become his old self again, which,after all, was so much easier. So when 'Gene Crook had approached himwith an offer, and convinced him that Baptiste was what the Elder knewhe was not (because the Elder was easily to be convinced of anythingtoward the detriment of his adversary) he easily secured the place andthe Elder had felt himself ahead. Three hundred dollars was a great dealof money to him, and went a long way in taking up the payments in whichthey were in arrears on the home they were buying in Chicago. True, ittwitched his conscience, but N.J. McCarthy had a practice--long ineffect--of crucifying conscience. So when he had closed the deal--andhad been reimbursed for his traveling expenses--he went directly back tohis work, and had not been in the city since until called in on thesuit.

  When he left the lawyer's office and returned home, he discussed thematter with Glavis, who in turn discussed the matter with white friendswho advised him how to answer to the charge. Returning to the lawyer'soffice they engaged counsel. It was very annoying--more than ever--tothe Elder when he was required to put up twenty-five dollars in cash asa retainer. He had become so accustomed to posing his way through in somany matters--letting some one else put up the money, that when he wasforced to part with that amount of money he straightway appreciated theseriousness of the situation. It was no pleasant anticipation in lookingforward to the trial, for there he would be compelled to counter theother on equal terms.

  He was very disagreeable about the house when he returned home, and hiswife adroitly kept out of his sight. He sought the street to walk offhis anger and perturbation, only to run into a Mrs. Jones, teacher inthe Sunday school of one of the large Negro churches, and with whom hehad been long acquainted. It was, in a measure, because hisacquaintances were of long standing that gave them, they felt, the rightto question him regarding such delicate affairs. So when he met Mrs.Jones, he doffed his hat in his usual lordly manner, and paused when shecame to a stop.

  "Good evening, Reverend Mac.," she exclaimed, and extended her long,lean hand. He grasped it, and bowing with accustomed dignity, replied:

  "Good evening, Sister Jones. I trust that your health is the best."

  "My health is good, Reverend Mac. But, say, Reverend Mac., you don'tlook so well."

  "Indeed so, my dear madame, I have not been in the best of health forsome months."

  "Well, well, that is too bad, indeed. I hear that you have not been,Reverend Mac. And say, Brother McCarthy, what is this I read in thepaper about your son-in-law coming in here and suing you for breaking upOrlean and he?"

  His Majesty's head went up, while he colored unseen, and would havepassed on, but Mrs. Jones was standing in such a manner that he wasunable to do so without some difficulty.

  "The man is crazy," he retorted shortly, and stiffened. But it took morethan stiffness to satisfy this gossip.

  "Well, I thought something was the matter, Reverend. For you see, I'veheard that you went out there and brought her home to save him fromkilling her, so you see it is rather strange. That fellow, as a boy--andeven yet, when he is in Chicago--attends Sunday school and sits in myclass, and I was rather surprised that he should treat Orlean as it issaid you said he did."

  Reverend McCarthy would liked very well to have moved on. But Mrs. Joneswas very much interested.

  "There's all kind of talk around town about it. They say that if he getsa judgment against you, Elder, he will put you in jail, and all that;but of course that couldn't be. You stand too well in the church. Butyou know, Reverend, the only thing that looks kind a bad for you is,they say that he wouldn't dare start such a suit unless he had goodground for action. They say--"

  The Elder had extricated himself at last, and now sailed down the streetwith high head. "May the God crush that hard-headed bulldog into theearth," he muttered between compressed lips, so angry that he could notsee clearly. "How long am I to be aggravated with this rotten gossip!"

  He changed his mind about walking far, and at a convenient corner, heturned back toward home. But when he arrived there, he was confrontedwith another, and more serious problem. It had been his intention beforearriving there, to arraign his wife again for having let Orlean go Westin the beginning. But now he was confronted with his august honorary,the Bishop.

  "And, now, Reverend," said the Bishop, after they had gone through theusual formalities, "I am forced to come around to something thatembarrasses me very much, in view of our long and intimate relations,"and he paused to look grave. The Reverend tried to still his thumpingheart. All his life he had been a coward, he had bluffed himself intobelieving, and having his family believe, that he was a brave man, butOrlean had told Baptiste on several occasions that her father might haverisen higher in the church, but for his lack of confidence.

  "It pertains to all this gossip and notoriety that is going the rounds.I suppose you are aware of what I refer to." The other swallowed, andnodded.

  "You can appreciate that it is very embarrassing to me, and to thechurch, more, because I have struggled to raise the standard in thischurch. We have in the years gone by been subjected to unfair gossip,and some fair because of the subtle practices of some of our ministers.And now, with conference
convening in two weeks, it is very awkward thatwe should be confronted with such a predicament with regard to you, oneof our oldest ministers. The subject is made more embarrassing becauseof its--er, rather personal nature. I would regard it as veryenlightening if you would give me an explanation--but, of course, in thename of the church."

  The Reverend swallowed again, struggled to keep his eyes dry, for therush of self pity almost overcame him. It was, however, no time or placefor self pity. The Bishop was _not_ an emotional man; he was _not_ givento patience with those who pitied themselves--in short, the Bishop was_very much_ of a cold hearted business man, notwithstanding hisposition. He was waiting in calm austerity for the other's reply.

  "Ah-m ahem!" began the Reverend with a great effort at self composure."It is, to say the least, my dear Bishop, with much regret that I amcompelled to explain a matter that has caused me no end of grief. Tobegin with: It was not with my consent that my daughter was allowed togo off into the West and file on a homestead."

  The other's face was like a tomb upon hearing this. Indeed, the Elderwould have to put forth a more logical excuse. It has been said that theBishop was a practical man which in truth he was, and the fact is, heregarded it as far more timely if a larger number of the members of hisrace in the city would have taken up homesteads in the West, than forthem to have been frequenting State Street and aping the rich. Also, theBishop had read Baptiste's book--although the Reverend was not aware ofit,--and was constrained to feel that a man could not conscientiouslywrite that which was absolutely false.

  "But I came into the city here after a conference to find that mydaughter had been herded off out West in a wild country to take ahomestead."

  "Now, just a minute, Reverend," interposed the Bishop astutely."Regarding this claim your daughter filed on. What was the nature of theland? You have been over it, I dare say."

  "Of course, of course, my dear Bishop! It was a piece of wild,undeveloped land. At the time she took it, it was fifty miles or such amatter from the railroad. She gave birth to a child--"

  "But," interposed the Bishop again, "you say the land was a considerabledistance from the railroad at the time your daughter filed on the place?Very well. Now, Reverend, isn't it a fact that in the history of thiscountry, all new countries when opened to the settler may have been somedistance from the railroad in the beginning? For instance, somebodystarted Chicago, which was certainly not the convenient place then thatit is now in which to live."

  "Of course, my dear Bishop, of course."

  "So the fact that the railroad was, as you say, fifty miles away, couldnot be held as an argument against it. Besides, is it not a fact thatthere were other people, men and women, who were as far from therailroad and therefore placed at an equal disadvantage?"

  "Of course, of course."

  "Then, my dear Reverend, it does not appear to me that that should be afact to be condemned."

  "I have not condemned it, my dear Bishop. No."

  "Very well, then, my dear Reverend, please proceed."

  Now the interposition of the Bishop, had rather disconcerted the Elder.Had he been allowed to proceed in the manner he had planned and startedto, he might have made the case from his standpoint, and under thecircumstances very clear to the Bishop. But the latter's questions threwhim off his line, and he started again with some embarrassment, and withthe perspiration beginning to appear around the point of his nose.Appreciating, however that he was expected to explain, he wentresolutely back to the task.

  "Well, my wife allowed my daughter to be taken out there and file onthis land that this man had secured on his representation that he wishedto marry her, and when I came into the city it was all settled."

  "Pardon me for interrupting you again, my dear Elder. But is it not afact that Mrs. Pruitt, with whom you are well acquainted, accompaniedyour daughter on this trip?"

  "It is so, Bishop."

  "And is it not a fact that Mrs. Pruitt as well as your daughter,explained it all at the time with satisfaction to you?"

  "Well, ah--yes, she did."

  "You admit to this, then, my dear Reverend?"

  "Under the circumstances at the time, I was rather compelled to, my dearBishop."

  "Meaning that since she had gone and taken the land, you were morallybound to look into and consider the matter favorably?"

  "Yes, I think that explains it."

  "Now, Reverend. Is it not a fact that a considerable write-up appearedin the Chicago _Defender_ shortly after this visit, detailingconsiderable, and with much illustration regarding the trip; that, inshort, your daughter had come into considerable land and was regardedas having been very fortunate?"

  "I think so, my dear Bishop."

  "Very well, Reverend. Now--a--who solicited that write-up? Did theeditor not have a conversation with you before the article appeared?"

  "I believe he did, yes, sir. I think he did."

  "Well, now, Reverend, if I remember correctly, this young man visitedthe city the Christmas following, and I was introduced to him by you inthis same room?"

  "I think so. Yes, Bishop, I remember having introduced him to youmyself."

  "And do I quote correctly when I say that you called me up the followingspring to perform the ceremony that made your daughter and this JeanBaptiste man and wife?"

  "I think you quote correctly, my dear Bishop."

  "M-m. Yes, I recall that I was indisposed at the time and was very sorryI could not perform the ceremony," said the Bishop thoughtfully, butmore to himself than to the other.

  "Well, now. After they had been married some months, my wife visitedyour wife, and the latter seemed to be greatly impressed with the union.I think if I am correctly informed that you went on a visit to themyourself that fall."

  "I did, my dear Bishop. Yes, I did."

  "And at the conference on your return, you, if I am not mistaken, calledon me at my home and discussed the young man at considerable length."

  "Yes, my dear Bishop. I did that."

  "Yes," mused the Bishop again thoughtfully and as if to himself. "Andyou appeared greatly delighted with their union. You seemed to regardhim as an extraordinary young man, and, from what I have heard, I havebeen inclined to feel so myself. Now it seems that a few months afteryou were speaking in high praise of him, you made a trip West and onyour return brought your girl home with you, and she has not sincereturned to her husband. Of course," he added slowly, "that is yourpersonal affair, but since it has reached the public, the church isconcerned, so I am ready to listen to further explanation."

  "I went out there and found my girl in dire circumstances," defended theElder. "I found her in neglect; I found her without proper medicalattention--no nurse was there to administer her needs. In short, I wasprevailed upon by my love and regard for my daughter's health, toexpedite the step I took."

  "Nobly said, Reverend, nobly said," said the Bishop, and for the firsttime during his explanation, the Elder felt encouraged.

  "The man did not marry her for love," the Elder went on now somewhatmore confident. "He did not marry her to make her happy and comfortable.He married her to secure more land. It is true that I was impressed withhim in a way, because the man was rather--er, inspiring, and Ientertained hopes. Our race does not possess successful men in such anumber that we can be oblivious to apparent success as on a young man'spart. This man seemed to be such a man--in fact, I grant him that. Theman was popular with those who knew him; he was a pusher; but he _was soambitious to get rich_ that he was in the act of killing my child toaccomplish his ends." The Reverend finished this with a touch of emotionthat made the other nod thoughtfully. And while he paused to gatherforce and words for further justification of his interposition, theBishop said:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  "M-m. Have you any knowledge of what land has brought in thatneighborhood, Reverend. You see, value is a very delicate thing toestimate. We cannot always be the judge in such matters. The usualestimate of what anything is worth is what some one is willing to pay.Do you recall of having ever heard your daughter or any one say whatdeeded land in that section sold for?"

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

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

  "It would not seem to."

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

  "It was," returned the Reverend promptly.

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

  "Well, no. She did not."

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

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

  "I see. Do you recall the consideration. I understand that he purchasedwhat is called a relinquishment. I understand such transactionsslightly. I have read of such deals in Oklahoma. Seems to be a sort ofrecognized custom in securing land in new countries, notwithstanding thesubtlety of the transaction."

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

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

  "It is obvious."

  "Yes, yes. Quite likely." The Reverend was very uncomfortable. If theBishop would only stop where he was it wouldn't be so bad, but if hekept on with such questions. That was what he had disliked about JeanBaptiste.... He had a habit of asking questions--too many questions, hehad thought; but this man before him was the Bishop, a law unto himself.And he must answer. The Bishop knew a great deal more about the Westthan he had thought he did, however.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  "It seems that way."

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

  "Yes."

  "And after this, your daughter sold the place to the man who hadstruggled to beat her out of it and failed through the instrumentalitiesof her husband, and without consulting her husband with regard to thebargain."

  "I counciled her, my dear Bishop."

  "Ah, _you_ counciled her," and for the first time he turned his sharp,searching eyes on the Elder and seemingly looked directly through him.The next moment they were back on the carpet before him, and he resumedhis questions. He was thinking then, thinking of what he had read in thebook by Jean Baptiste, and what had recently appeared in all the papers.It seemed to him that the Elder's defence was not quite clear; but hewould see it through.

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

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

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

  "No."

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

  "Three hundred dollars." Such an awful moment! The Elder's head droppedas he said this. But the Bishop's eyes were still upon the spot in thecarpet.

  "And so this young man comes hither and accuses and sues you, accusingyou of breaking up he and his wife. He published all that you have toldme and if he should secure a judgment it is known that he can remand youto jail for six months."

  He paused again, regarded the spot in the carpet before him very keenlyand then arose. The Elder arose also, but he was unable to find hisvoice. In the meantime the Bishop was moving toward the door, his handwas upon the knob, and when the door was open, he turned, and looking atthe one behind him, said:

  "Well, see you at the conference, Newt," and was gone.

  The other stood regarding the closed door. His brain was in a whirl andhe could not quite understand what had happened. But _something_ in thathour had transpired, and while he could not seem to realize what it wasjust then, he knew he would learn it in due time.