“Look hyar, young feller;” said Maybee, stretching out a big, brown hand. “I don’ guess she’ll ever have to say she’s got no friend while Ebenezer Maybee’s proprietor of the Grand Island Ho-tel. My wife’s plum crazy to git that young kidabid. We’s only awaitin’ till the new of this unfortunit recurrence has blowed over, and she gits a little used to bein’ without her pa. As fer Judah, thar’s plenty to do roun’ the stables ef he likes. But, Lor,’ that Injun-nigger! You can’t tame him down to be just an’ onery galoot like the most of ’em you see out hyar. White Eagle taught him to speak like a senator, ride bareback like a hull circus; he can shoot a bird on the wing and hunt and fish like all natur. Fac’.” he added noting Warren’s look of amusement. “Truth is,—neither of them two forlorn critters realizes what ‘bein’ a nigger’ means; they have no idee of thar true position in this unfrien’ly world. God knows I pity ’em.” But to Warren Maxwell it seemed almost sacrilege—the thought of that beautiful child maturing into womanhood among such uncouth surroundings. His mind revolted at the bare idea. At length he said with a sigh:
“What a pity it is that we know nothing of White Eagle’s antecedents. There may be those living who would be glad to take the child.”
“He was a gentleman, as your class counts ’em, Mr. Maxwell. But he never breathed a word what he was, an’ he kept away from his equals—meanin’ white men.”
“And few men do that without a reason,” replied Maxwell. “Do you know whether he was English or German?”
Mr. Maybee shook his head. “He warn’t Dutch, that’s certain; he was a white man all right. I cal’late he mote ’a been English.”
“Mr. Maybee, I’e been thinking over the matter seriously, and I have determined to write home and see if something can’t be done to educate these children and make them useful members of society. In England, neither their color nor race will be against them. They will be happier there than here. Now, if I can satisfy you that my standing and character are all right, would you object to their going with me when I sail in about three months from now?”
Mr. Maybee gazed at him in open-mouthed wonder. “Yer jokin’?” he said at length, incredulously.
“No, I mean it.”
Still Mr. Maybee gazed in amazement. Could it be possible that he heard aright?
“Je-rusalem! but I don’t know what to say. We don’ need no satisfyin’ ’bout you; that’s all right. But the idea of your thinkin’ about edjicatin’ them two Injin-niggers. You’ve plum got me. An’ too, I cal’lated some on gittin’ the gal fer my wife. Still it would be good fer the gal—durn me, but it would.”