Saturday was a beautiful day. To Gregory from miles around went almost everybody. So along with the rest went Jean Baptiste. He fostered certain hopes,—had ulterior purposes in view. Firstly, it was a nice day, the town he knew would be filled; and secondly, he was subtly interested in Kaden. He had seen by the paper that he was advertised to make proof that day on his homestead.... Another thing, whenever he thought of Kaden, he could not keep Barr, and Syfe, and lastly, Christine, out of his mind....
He found the little town filled almost to overflowing when he arrived. Teams were tied seemingly to every available post. The narrow board walks were crowded, the saloons were full, red liquor was doing its bit; while the general stores were alive with girls, women and children. A jovial day was ahead and old friendships were revived and new ones made. There is about a new country an air of hopefulness that is contagious. Here in this land had come the best from everywhere: the best because they were for the most part hopeful and courageous; that great army of discontented persons that have been the forerunners of the new world. Mingled in the crowd, Jean Baptiste regarded the unusual conglomeration of kinds. There were Germans, from Germany, and there were Swedes from Sweden, Danes from Denmark, Norwegians from Norway. There were Poles, and Finns and Lithuanians and Russians; there were French and a few English; but of his race he was the only one.
As a whole the greater portion were from the northern parts of the United States, and he was glad that they were. With them there was no "Negro problem," and he was glad there was not. The world was too busy to bother with such: he was glad to know he could work unhampered. He was looked at curiously by many. To the young, a man of his skin was something rare, something new. He smiled over it with equal amusement, and then in a store he walked right into Agnes, the first time he had seen her since the morning at the sod house. He was greatly surprised, and rather flustrated,—and was glad again his skin was dark. She could not see the blood that went to his face; while with her, it showed most furiously.
As the meeting was unexpected, all she had thought and felt in the weeks since, came suddenly to the surface in her expression. In spite of her effort at self control, her blushing face evidenced her confusion upon seeing him again. But with an effort, she managed to bow courteously, while he was just as dignified. They would have passed and gone their ways had it not been that in that instant another, a lady, a neighbor and friend of Baptiste's, came upon them. She had become acquainted with Agnes that day, and was very fond of Baptiste. Although her name was Reynolds, she was a red blooded German, sociable, kind and obliging. She had not observed that they had exchanged greetings—did not know, obviously, that the two were acquainted; wherefore, her neighborly instincts became assertive.
Coming forward volubly, anxiously, she caught Baptiste by the hand and shook it vigorously. "Mr. Baptiste, Mr. Baptiste!" she cried, punctuating the hand shaking with her voice full of joy, her red, healthy face beaming with smiles. "How very glad I am to see you! You have not been to see us for an age, and I have asked Tom where you were. We feared you had gone off and done something serious," whereupon she winked mischievously. Baptiste understood and smiled.
"You are certainly looking well for an old bachelor," she commented, after releasing his hand and looking into his face seriously, albeit amusedly, mischievously. "We were at Dallas and got some of the coal you were brave enough to bring from Bonesteel that awful cold day. My, Jean, you certainly are possessed with great nerve! While that coal to everybody was a godsend, yet think of the risk you took! Why, supposing you had gotten lost in that terrific storm; lost as people have been in the West before! You must be careful," she admonished, kindly. "You are really too fine a young man to go out here and get frozen to death, indeed!" Baptiste started perceptibly. She regarded him questioningly. Unconsciously his eyes wandered toward Agnes who stood near, absorbed in all Mrs. Reynolds had been saying. His eyes met hers briefly, and the events of the night at the sod house passed through the minds of both. The next moment they looked away, and Mrs. Reynolds, not understanding, glanced toward Agnes. She was by disposition versatile. But she caught her breath now with sudden equanimity, as she turned to Agnes and cried:
"Oh, Miss Stewart, you!" she smiled with her usual delight and going toward Agnes caught her arm affectionately, and then, with face still beaming, she turned to where Baptiste stood.
"I want you, Miss Stewart," she said with much ostentation, "to meet one of our neighbors and friends; one of the most enterprising young men of the country, Mr. Jean Baptiste. Mr. Baptiste, Miss Agnes Stewart." She did it gracefully, and for a time was overcome by her own vanity. In the meantime the lips of both those before her parted to say that they had met, and then slowly, understandingly, they saw that this would mean to explain.... Their faces lighted with the logic of meeting formally, and greetings were exchanged to fit the occasion.
For the first time he was permitted to see her, to regard her as the real Agnes. There was no embarrassment in her face but composure as she extended her small ungloved hand this time and permitted it to rest lightly in his palm. She smiled easily as she accepted his ardent gaze and showed a row of even white teeth momentarily before turning coquetishly away.