The great broad-shouldered, broad-minded man before the little boaster looked down to hide his contempt.
"I"ve did my part handsome now, you"ll admit; and being alone in the world, with no one to enjoy my prosperity with me, I"m lonesome. That"s it, I"m lonesome. Ain"t you sometimes?"
"Often," my father replied.
"Now I know"d it. We"re in the same boat barring a great difference in ages. Why, hang it, Judge, let"s get married!" He giggled explosively and so failed to see the stern face of the man before him.
"I want a young woman, a pretty girl, I"ve a right to a pretty girl, I think. In fact, I want Marjory Whately. And what"s more, I"m going to have her. I"ve all but got the widder"s consent now. She"s under considerable obligation to me."
Across John Baronet"s mind there swept a picture of the Chattanooga battle field. The roar of cannon, the smoke of rifles, the awful charge on charge, around him. And in the very heart of it all, Irving Whately wounded unto death, his hands grasping the Springvale flag, his voice growing faint.
"You will look after them, John? Phil promised to take care of Marjie.
It makes this easier. I believe they will love each other, John. I hope they may. When they do, give them my blessing. Good-bye." Across this vision Judson"s thin sharp voice was pouring out words.
"Now, Baronet, you see, to be plain, it"s just this way. If I marry Marjory, folks"ll say I"m doing it to get control of the widder"s stock.
It"s small; but they"ll say it."
"Why should it be small?" My father"s voice was penetrating as a knife-thrust. Judson staggered at it a little.
"Business, you know, management you couldn"t understand. She"s no hand at money matters."
"So it seems," my father said dryly.
"But you"d not understand it. To resume. Folks"ll say I"m trying to get the whole thing, when all I really want is the girl, the girl now.
She"ll not have much at best; and divided between her and her mother, there"ll be little left for Mrs. Whately to go on livin" on, with Mrs.
Judson"s share taken out. Now, here"s my point precisely, precisely. You take the widder yourself. You need a wife, and Mrs. Whately"s still good-looking most ways. She was always a pretty, winsome-faced woman.
"You"ve got a plenty and getting more all the time. You could provide handsome for her the rest of her life. You"d enjoy a second wife, an"
she"d be out of my way. You see it, don"t you? I"ll marry Marjie, an"
you marry her mother, kind of double wedding. Whew! but we"d make a fine couple of grooms. What"s in gray hair and baldness, anyhow? But there"s one thing I can"t stand for. Gossip has begun to couple the name of your boy with Miss Whately. Now he"s just a very boy, only a year or two older"n she, and nowise able to take care of her properly, you"ll admit; and it"s silly. Besides, Conlow was telling me just an hour or more ago, that Phil and Lettie was old-time sweethearts. I"ve nothing to do with Phil"s puppy love, however. I"m here to advise with you. Shall we clinch the bargain now, or do you want to think about it a little while? But don"t take long. It"s a little sudden maybe to you. It"s been on my mind since the day I got that memorial window in an" Marjory sang "Lead Kindly Light," standing there in the light of it. It was a service for my first wife sung by her that was to be my second, you might almost say. Dr. Hemingway talked beautiful, too, just beautiful. But I"ve got to go. Business don"t bother you lawyers,"--he was growing very familiar now,--"but us merchants has to keep a sharp eye to time. When shall I call?" He rose briskly. "When shall I call?" he repeated.
My father rose up to his full height. His hands were clasped hard behind his back. He did not lift his eyes to the expectant creature before him, and the foxy little widower did not dream how near to danger he was.
With the self-control that was a part of John Baronet"s character, he replied in an even voice:
"You will come when I send for you."
That evening my father told me all that had taken place.
"You are a man now, and must stand up against this miserable cur. But you must proceed carefully. No hot-headed foolishness will do. He will misjudge your motives and mine, and he can plant some ugly seeds along your way. Property is his G.o.d. He is daily defrauding the defenceless to secure it. When I move against him it will be made to appear that I do it for your sake. Put yourself into the place where, of your own wage-earning power, you can keep a wife in comfort, not luxury yet. That will come later, maybe. And then I"ll hang this dog with a rope of his own braiding. But I"ll wait for that until you come fully into a man"s estate, with the power to protect what you love."
CHAPTER XIII
THE TOPEKA RALLY
And men may say what things they please, and none dare stay their tongue.
But who has spoken out for these--the women and the young?
--KIPLING.
Henceforth I had one controlling purpose. Mine was now the task to prove myself a man with power to create and defend the little kingdom whose throne is builded on the hearthstone. I put into my work all the energy of my youth and love and hope.
I applied myself to the study of law, and I took hold of my father"s business interests with a will. I was to enter into a partnership with him when I could do a partner"s work. He forebore favors, but he gave me opportunity to prove myself. Stories of favoritism on account of my father"s position, of my wasteful and luxurious habits, ludicrous enough in a little Kansas town in the sixties, were peddled about by the restless little widower. By my father"s advice I let him alone and went my way. I knew that silently and persistently John Baronet was trailing him. And I knew the cause was a righteous one. I had lived too long in the Baronet family to think the head of it would take time to follow after a personal dislike, or pursue a petty purpose.
There may have been many happy lovers on these sunny prairies that idyllic summer, now forty years gone by. The story of each, though like that of all the others, seems best to him who lived it. Marjie and I were going through commonplace days, but we were very happy with the joy of life and love. Our old playground was now our trysting place.
Together on our "Rockport" we planned a future wherein there were no ugly shadows.
"Marjie, I"ll always keep "Rockport" for my shrine now," I said to her one evening as we were watching the sunset lights on the prairie and the river upstream. "If you ever hear me say I don"t care for "Rockport,"
you will know I do not care for you. Now, think of that!"
"Don"t ever say it, Phil, please, if you can help it." Marjie"s mood was more serious than mine just then. "I used to be afraid of Indians. I am still, if there were need to be, and I looked to you always somehow to keep them away. Do you remember how I would always get on your side of the game when Jean Pahusca played with us?"
"Yes, Marjie. That"s where you belong--on my side. That"s the kind of game I"m playing."
"Phil, I am troubled a little with another game. I wish Amos Judson would stay away from our house. He can make mother believe almost anything. I don"t feel safe about some matters. Judge Baronet tells me not to worry, that he will keep close watch."
"Well, take it straight from me that he will do it," I a.s.sured her.
"Let"s let the widower go his way. He talks about me; says I"m "callow, that"s it, just callow." I don"t mind being callow, as long as it"s not catching. Look at the river, how it glistens now. We can almost see the shallows up by the stone cabin below the big cottonwood. The old tree is shapely, isn"t it?"
We were looking upstream to where the huge old tree stood out against the golden horizon.
"Let"s buy that land, Phil, and build a house under the big cottonwood some day."
"All right, I"m to go out there again soon. Will you go too?"
"Of course," Marjie a.s.sented, "if you want me to."
"I am sure I"d never want to take any other girl out there, but just you, dear," I declared.
And then we talked of other things, and promised to put our letters next day, into the deep crevice we had called our post-office these many years. Before we parted that night, I said:
"I"m thinking of going up to Topeka when the band goes to the big political speaking, next week. I will write to you. And be sure to let me find a letter in "Rockport" when I get back. I"ll be so lonely up there."
"Well, find some pretty girl and let her kill time for you."
"Will you and Judson kill time down here?"
"Ugh! no," Marjie shivered in disgust. "I can"t bear the sight of his face any more."
"Good! I"ll not try to be any more miserable by being bored with somebody I don"t care for at Topeka. But don"t forget the letter.
Good-night, little sweetheart," and after the fashion of lovers, I said good-bye.
Kansas is essentially a land of young politicians. When O"mie took his band to the capital city to play martial music for the big political rally, there were more young men than gray beards on the speakers" stand and on the front seats. I had gone with the Springvale crowd on this jaunt, but I did not consider myself a person of importance.
"There"s Judge Baronet"s son; he"s just out of Harvard. He"s got big influence with the party down his way. His father always runs away ahead of his ticket and has the whole district about as he wants it. That"s the boy that saved Springvale one night when the pro-slavery crowd was goin" to burn it, the year of the Quantrill raid."