CHAPTER XIII.
MIGHT WIPE HER FEET ON HIM.
Old Jasper's meditations were disturbed by Kintchin who thrust his head through the window and inquired: "Doan want me to take dat co'n ober ter Spencer's 'fo' dinner, does you?"
"No, any time this evenin' will do."
The negro came into the house and as he entered Starbuck said to him: "And while you are resting you mout grind the axes."
"Yas, suh; grind de axes while I's er restin'. Look yere, Mr. Starbuck, ain't you got some work fur me ter do while I's er eatin'?"
"Let me see. I reckon I can rig up a thing so you can churn with yo' foot."
"Yas, suh. But whut's de use in stoppin' dar? You mout ez well scuffle roun' an' fin' suthin fur me ter do wid de udder foot. Look yere, Mr. Starbuck, ef it's jest de same ter you, I blebe I'd like ter quit dis place."
"Why do you want to quit? Don't I give you plenty to do?"
"Oh, yas, suh; dat is on er pinch. But de truf is it 'pear ter me like things er gittin' sort er squawlly roun' yere. Dat man Peters he's threatenin' ter knock er nail kag in de head an' ring er dish rag an' I doan want ter git in no row. You Starbuck folks may not mind it, but I ain't uster bein' shot. He say he gwine be 'p'inted deputy marshal, an' w'en he sees me er grindin' de co'n he gwine put er lot o' holes th'u' me. I doan want ter look like no sifter."
Jasper arose, put down his lapboard, shut his knife and with a serious air said to the old darkey. "I'm here to protect, you, Kintchin."
"Yas, suh, but you mout do de most o' yo' pertectin' atter I'se dun dead."
"Wall, atter you're dead it won't make any difference."
"N—n—no, suh, dat's er fack. I hadn't thought o' dat. Funny how sich er 'po'tent p'int will come ter er man w'en he neber did think o' it befo', ain't it?"
"Don't you worry. You air safe enough."
"Safe ernuff? I doan know whut you calls safe ernuff. You mout feel like you's safe ernuff ez long ez you ain't lost bof laigs an' er arm or two, but dat sort er safe doan suit me."
"I give you my word, an' you know whut that means."
"Yas, suh, I knows all 'bout dat, but er word kain't stop er bullet."
Over to the old negro he slowly walked and gently put his hand on his shoulder: "My word can, old man—mine has, an' I will protect you with my life."
"Yas, suh, an' I'll stay, but ef I gits killed I gwine hol' you 'sponsible. Mark whut I tells you." He turned to go and at that moment Peters entered the room. The negro quickly shambled to get out of his way, and halted in the door.
"Starbuck," said the visitor, "thought I'd drap over to see you ag'in. And whut's that nigger always hangin' round fur when I want to talk to you?"
"Lives here, don't he?"
"That ourt ter settle it but, I lay it won't," muttered the negro, standing in the door. Peters turned toward him with the remark:
"That vote they give you don't count for much."
"No, suh, not till da counts it."
"Shut up."
"Yas, suh, dat's whut I's er doin' jest ez fast ez I kin."
"Peters," said Starbuck, "I don't like to ask a man his business when he's in my house."
"I reckon business is the right word, Starbuck," and moving closer to Kintchin he demanded: "Somebody got a mortgage on yo' feet so you can't move 'em?"
"Wha'fo'?" replied the negro, ducking his head.
"You keep on a standin' thar when you see I want to talk to Starbuck."
"W'y, bless yo' life, you's so entertainin' I kain't hardly t'ar myse'f loose. Wheneber you talks it puts me in de min' o' er fiddle."
"But it don't make you move yo' feet, you scoundrel."
"No, suh, ef I moved my feet when de fiddle wuz gwine folks would think I wuz er dancin' an' da'd turn me outen de church, an' I doan want 'em ter do dat. Hurts er man's business w'en he's turned outen de church."
Peters addressed himself to Jasper. "Well, you have teached that nigger nearly enough impudence to break his neck."
"Didn't know I was sich a good teacher, Lije. Don't you want a few lessons? Go on, Kintchin." The negro slowly went away, looking back and shaking his head, and Starbuck added: "Peters, I'm afraid I'll have to furgit my raisin' an' ask you what you want."
"I want to give you the opportunity to have some sense."
"Well, now, Lije, it's mighty kind of you to be givin' out that sort of artickle. Puts me in mind of the old feller that give away his shirts when he didn't have none to spare."
"Good natchul talk, Starbuck—natchul as the squawk of a duck. But I didn't come here to swop the perlitenesses of the season."
"You know I have been out of the neighborhood an' ain't had a chance to talk business until lately."
"That's so."
"And you ought to know what that business is."
"Yes, I know."
"Even if a man is gittin' old, Starbuck, thar ain't no reason why he should be a fool."
"That's a fact, Lije."
"And the biggest fool in the world, Starbuck, is the man that won't keep out of trouble when he kin."
"That's true."
"Starbuck, ain't yo' eyes wide enough open to see that I kin ruin you?"
"Yes, Lije, with his eyes half shet a man kin see a rattlesnake."
"Then with both of 'em wide open he ought to see a panther."
"I'm a lookin' at you."
"That's all right, Starbuck. But we've passed the time fur beatin' about the bush."
"I ain't a beatin', Lije."
"Starbuck, do you want to be ruined?"
"Stop!"
"Do you want to see yo' wife with her head bowed down on the table?"
"Stop!"
"Do you want to hear yo' daughter cryin' down thar in the valley?"
"I tell you to stop!"
"Do you want to know that the little grave down yander—"
"Stop, Peters, stop!" the old man cried, and then held forth his hands. "You don't see nuthin' red on my hands, do you? Look, they are jest as nature made 'em. Peters, fur God's sake don't turn 'em red."
"That's good talk, Starbuck, an' it mout belong to the pulpit but not to business, an' I'm a business man."
"Yes, you look like it."
"And I'll act like it, too; I'll tell you that fur yo' own infermation. An' thar ain't a man in the country that likes to give out infermation better'n I do—when I see that it's goin' to be of use to somebody. But I don't like to waste my wisdom, Starbuck. Look, here, don't you know the right to ruin you has come down to me from my folks, like er old spinnin' wheel? It's a fact, and you know it. But I don't want to do it if I can help it. I know I would make yo' daughter a good husband, but frum what I kin gether she wouldn't wipe her feet on me."
"Oh, yes, Peters, she mout if she had been walkin' in the mud."
"Yes, ah, hah. So I've got another plan."
"Oh, I don't reckon you're slow, Lije, when it comes to gittin' up plans."
"That's true. An' I'm jest a little slow about askin' favors, but I want to borry a thousand dollars, an' I don't want no time sot when it must be paid back, nuther. I want that understood."
"Why, that's what they call blackmail, ain't it?"
"Oh, I don't care whut they call it, but I want you to git it fur me. That p'int is settled. You've got to git it, an' git it quick."
"Why, Peters, I'd have to sell my land."
"Better do that than to throw away yo' liberty. You know that it means ruin for you an' yo' wife an' a broken heart fur yo' girl. All I've got to do is to act, an' you go to the penitentiary."
Upon Starbuck's face there was an expression of keen suffering. Pleadingly he put up his hands, looking toward the door leading into the kitchen and exclaimed. "Hold on. Somebody mout hear you."
"Oh, got you to thinkin', have I?"
"Yes, an' a man thinks better when he's by hisse'f."
Peters moved off toward the door and halting, remarked: "Yes, may think better when he's by hisse'f, but not as fast. When he's got thinkin' to do that he don't want to do he mout shirk it if left by hisse'f. Well, I'll give you a leetle mo' time, but not much. My plan is that when you've got a bad piece of work on hand, git through with it as soon as possible. I'm goin' down the road a piece an' will drap in on my way back," and as he passed out he looked back and added: "Thinkin' ought to make a man wise."
The old man stood looking through the window, at Peters as he ambled along the road, and turning away he muttered, "Shot fo' an' stobbed three," his mind flying back to the story paper.
Mrs. Mayfield, followed by Jim, came in from the kitchen, remarking, "we have been helping your wife but she has expelled us."
"I don't reckon thar was very much help needed." He waited until she had sat down, and then coming slowly toward her he inquired: "Ma'm, air all the deputy marshals in the state under yo' brother, the Jedge?"
"All in this district, I should think, are under the jurisdiction of his court."
"I reckon the Jedge is putty hard on folks that makes what they call wild-cat liquor."
"Extremely so, Mr. Starbuck. He sends them all to the penitentiary."
"I don't reckon he knows that a man may make liquor and yit have some little jestice on his side."
"My brother can see no justice in a violation of the law."
The old man was silent for a few moments and then he asked: "Do he have the app'intment of the deputy marshals?"
"I don't know as to that. I suppose, however, that the Marshal appoints his own deputies. Do you want someone appointed?"
"Me? Oh, no," and walking off he added to himself: "It's someone I don't want app'inted. That's the question with me." Margaret came in and he inquired if dinner were nearly ready.
"As soon as the co'n pone's done," she answered, and he swore that he was as hungry as a bear in the spring of the year. The old negro mammy came to the door and with a peculiar softness which ever characterized his voice when speaking to her, he bade her come in. "Set down," he said, bringing a chair for her. "You look monst'us tired. Now, jest rock yo'se'f thar an' putty soon you'll git rested."
"Thank you, Mars Jasper. An' I hopes you's all well, bof in de flesh an' in de sight o' de Lawd."
"Ah, mammy," said the old man, "you never forgit the Lawd, do you?"
"How kin I, Mars Jasper, w'en I so close ter Him. An' Marster, dis is my birfday."
"Is that so? And how old air you to-day, mammy?"
"I doan hardly know, but I's eider eighty-fo' ur eighty-six."
"An' nobody's life could have been given mo' away in love to others."
"I hopes dat my soul is white, Mars Jasper."
"As white as a lamb, washed in the dew."
"Thank you, Mars Jasper, fur I ain't gwine be yere much longer, fur I's er gwine home. De road has been long an' I's almos' wore out, but I'll git home atter while, an' when I does, I gwine tell de Lawd erbout de folks down yere."
Tom and Lou came from the spring house, carrying a small jar, and the old man exclaimed: "Why, it must be heavy." His wife knew that he was charicaturing her and she stood contemptuous, with arms folded, as he sprang forward to assist the two "youngsters." "Let me help you," and pretending to stagger under a great weight, he took the jar and with great apparent difficulty put it on the table.
"Jasper," said his wife, "I wouldn't make light of it."
"Light of it! Why, I couldn't make light of anything so heavy."
"Father," said Lou, "the bees have swarmed and settled on the peach tree."
"That so? Why, I thought thar was honey in the air. Come on Jim an' help me hive 'em. Won't take but a minit." Jim began to roll up his sleeves. "Oh," protested the old man, "I don't want you to preach to 'em. Ma'm," he continued, addressing Mrs. Mayfield, "he always goes at 'em with his sleeves rolled up, and, I gad, he fetches 'em."
Jim strove to explain to Mrs. Mayfield, but Jasper pulled at him. "That's all right, Jim, she understands. Come on, or them bees might fly away. Come on, I tell you. Ma'm take yo' eye offen him so he kin come on. Thar, I thank you," he said, bowing, when Mrs. Mayfield looked in another direction. "Thankee, ma'm an' ef I had a eye as fetchin' as your'n I could haul wood with it. Come on, Jim." He drew the preacher out of the house, and Margaret said to Mrs. Mayfield: "Don't let Jasper fret you, ma'm."
"Oh, no, Mrs. Starbuck, to me he is an old time story book, illustrated."
"My father fret anybody?" cried Lou. "How could he?"
"Why don't you say I couldn't fret anybody," Tom broke in, and looking sweetly at him she innocently inquired, "Could you?"
At the corner of the fence Jasper and Jim halted. They had just seen Peters enter the house. "Howdy," said the ruffian, entering the room. "I 'lowed I mout find Starbuck here."
"It would be safer for you to meet him where other folks are," Lou spoke up and Peters bowed mockingly.
"Mars Peters," said Mammy, "please don't bother Mars Jasper, he's er gittin' old."
And toward the poor old creature the ruffian turned with a scowl. "Shut up, you old fool."
"Why, Mr. Peters," they all of them cried, and at that moment Jasper and Jim came into the room. "Peters," said the old man, "this woman nursed me. My mammy died an' left me to her, an' as a little baby she was the only mother I knowed. My grandaddy built this house, an' that door was opened by him an' never has been shut, an' anybody comin' along that road was always welcome to come in. But thar is one man that must never darken it ag'in." He took out his watch and looking at it, continued: "I'll give you jest one minit, Peters."
The ruffian looked at a gun standing in the corner; looked at Jasper holding the watch; looked at the women, who in disgust turned their faces from him; looked at the door, and clearing his throat, walked out.
"Sometimes, ma'm" said Jasper speaking to Mrs. Mayfield, "the laziest man ain't got no time to stay no longer."
"Well, I wouldn't make light of it," remarked Margaret.
"No lighter than I can help. I reckon we'd better eat a snack an' then Jim, you may preach to them bees."