The Forged Note Part 22

"I could make a bunch of money if you would come in," he repeated artfully, but ignored the direct question.

The next day, he was more artful than ever. He was, indeed, full of another proposition. He smiled as he told his friend.

"I'm going to marry that woman out there," he said, low and confidentially.

"On Fourteenth?" the other echoed cheerfully, returning a sincere smile.

"That's where you're a man. That'll sure be dandy. When?"

"Oh, not yet a-while, not until I get a divorce from the last one."

"Oh--then. M-m. So you've been married already, rather, you are."

"I have never told you much of my past life, except from a business point, have I?" He smiled naively, and, taking a chair, he became seated, placed his feet in the window, and proceeded to narrate a part of his past.

"I've been married twice," he began.

"Oh, twice...."

"Yes. My first wife died. We lived on a farm in South Carolina, and were as happy a couple as you ever knew. I owned a two-horse farm, and raised plenty of cotton and corn and some hogs, while my wife raised plenty of chickens and garden truck. We had two boys, whom I kept in school in town during the winter. And then, after my crops were laid by, my wife looked after the place, while I went out and sold song books and pictures, and preached."

"Then you're a preacher, too," said Wyeth, when he paused a moment. "I didn't think you were a preacher," he continued, looking him over.

"Well, not altogether. I preach sometimes, but not much since I married the last woman."

"How's that?"

"To tell you the truth, that woman almost made me lose my religion, she was such a devil."

Wyeth was silent, but attentive. Slim went on.

"Didn't you meet my brother? He was here not long ago. I had him up here in the office. You might have seen him about the building here. You could not have mistaken him for any one else, if you had seen him."

"Does he look like you?"

"Lord, no!" Slim exclaimed, with a laugh. "Not at all. And you would not have believed it; but ten years ago he was as spare as I am. Then he went to preaching, and since then he has become the fattest thing you ever saw."

Wyeth smiled naively. Coleman proceeded with his interrupted narrative.

"Well, getting back to that _woman_; I married her four months after my first wife died, and took her to live in the same house. We got along less than three weeks in peace. Then things began to warm up. She was a devil, if there ever was one on top of the earth, but I persisted faithfully." His appearance was now very pious. "The first big row we had was on Sunday. It was in the morning, and I, with my Bible under my arm, was starting to church. She didn't want to go that day, and had tried to keep me from going; but I always led the prayer, and preached during the pastor's absence, so, as I was saying, I was starting for church. When I pa.s.sed a room in which she had enclosed herself to pout, she suddenly opened it, and hit me in the side with a big rock. If it had not struck the Bible, I think I would have been hurt seriously; but it hit the book and my arm, and rolled upon the floor.

"Well, after that, the devil was to pay. She kept me in h.e.l.l and hot water, and we got along like a cat and a dog. Each day, from sunrise until long after it had set, I asked Jesus whether I could hold out to the end. I had declared to his Holy Name, that I had taken that woman to live with for better or for worse; but surely I was getting the worst of it. And then, at last, it came to the point when it was beyond human endurance. She took to shooting at me for the fun of it."

"Good Lord!" exclaimed Wyeth. "You don't mean to say that she shot at you!"

"No," he replied calmly, "she didn't _shoot_ at me; she _shot_ at me, and not once, but any old time she felt like it, which was more than once, by many, many times," he soliloquized, grimly.

"Good night!"

"Yes; she shot at me as though it were no more than throwing hot water on a bunch of rats."

"Save me Jesus!"

"Then one day I shot at her."

"Hush!"

"Yes, I shot at her and tried to hit, but I am thankful the good Lord was with us both against ourselves, I missed. I think I was too much excited."

"Deliver me!"

"It was a few days after we had had a big row for sure, and she had declared she would kill me."

Wyeth looked helpless. Slim smiled grimly, and went on:

"It was about my first wife. I had an enlarged picture of her that hung on the wall, and this devil had been eyeing it with apparent disfavor.

That day, she stood directly under it, looking up at it with a double ax concealed in her skirt. I knew she had the ax, and watched her. I swore to myself that the day of Pentecost had come. If she touched my dead wife's picture, I would kill her on the spot."

"Be merciful, Coleman!"

"Yes, yes," he said, in a terrible voice. "I would have done so too, you can bet your last dollar on that.

"She kept looking up at it, and muttering in a low tone. I heard her say: 'I've a notion to tear you to pieces!' I decided that I would tell her, and in so doing give her one chance, a last chance to continue life in this world. So I said: 'Woman, woman, if you touch that picture, get ready to die, for, just as sure as I'm a n.i.g.g.a, I'm going to put your lights out!' Those were terrible days, terrible days," he sighed wearily, and for the first time since Wyeth had known him, he felt a pang of sorrow for him. He was serious. Presently he resumed:

"She went out without a word--she was always dangerous when she said nothing--and returned presently, with a brand new, great big pistol, and, without a word she began shooting. She and I then had it. She with the gun and me a-running, while she pulled the trigger, and run me all over that farm.

"After this, I armed myself and got ready. I took the children to my mother, sold off the stock and everything else but the furniture. I asked the Lord to spare my life, and not let one of those bullets from that gun she always carried, push daylight through me, and I would try to fulfill my promise, G.o.d's will be done. I offered her half if she wanted to quit, but she didn't. No, after she had shot at me and scared me out of my wits, she was ready for me to take her in my arms.

"For awhile, things became a little better, but suddenly she went off half-c.o.c.k, and pulled the trigger of that big gun on me again. Then she got her surprise. I had a gun too. She had a Smith and Wesson, and I had a left-hand Wheeler. 'Ki-doi! Ki-doi!' my old gun barked, and the magazine would whirl around cleverly, automatically. She stood frozen to the spot for a minute, then, taking fright, she dropped hers, and flew with me right after her, shooting that old cannon at every leap. Across the country we went. I loaded and emptied it a half dozen times, and shot away twenty-five sh.e.l.ls. I shot at everything in sight!

"After that, I finished selling out and went to Arkansas, where I was getting along all right, until I was fool enough to let her come to me.

Again we got along very well for a time, but she got to c.o.c.king her pistol where and when I could hear it, so I set out again. Just lately she came to Brookville, and went to raising cain, trying to force me to take care of her. So, as you see, she made me quit there, and thus you see me."

For a long time, both were silent. The noise outside came to their ears, clearly and distinctly, while the ticking of the clock seemed louder than ever before. Presently, Sidney, to relieve his own emotions, arose from his chair and went outside.

Slim spoke of marrying the woman on Fourteenth street, every day for the next week. One morning he came in, his face beaming all over with smiles, and pleasant antic.i.p.ation was plainly evident.

"Well," he began, "we talked it over last night, and she thinks it will be all right. So I want you to write a letter to my brother who owes me some money, and tell him I must have it, since I am engaged to be married, and must have it to use in paying for my divorce."

Wyeth did so.

"That's fine," he cried gratefully, when it was handed to him. "You certainly can say a whole lot in a few words."

"When I get married to this woman, I think I will have a mate like my first one," said Coleman. Wyeth tendered his sympathy.

"Well," he said, as one put to a task he would like to avoid, "I must get around, and see a lawyer about a divorce." He was thoughtful for a moment, and then resumed: "Wonder what they charge for divorces in this town?"

"Depends upon the attorney and the case," said Wyeth. "I think twenty-five dollars is the usual fee, or amount of cost." Slim hesitated thoughtfully, and then said:

"I'll go down here and see this n.i.g.g.a lawyer. He ought to be willing to get one cheaper than a white lawyer. Don't you think so?"