The Jucklins Part 25

"Why, don't you think it's good, eh? Of course, you do. Well, it's better to part laughing, anyway."

"You are not too much of a scientist to be a philosopher," I said. And I expected him to continue his line of deduction and to say that I was too much of a philosopher to be a scientist, but he did not; he sobered and gravely remarked:

"Yes, I am devilish sorry that this thing came about, and I hope that Guinea will not take a romantic view of it. I guess they'll be back after a while, if Alf is cleared, and from what I hear I suppose he will be."

"May I ask how your sister is?"

"Certainly. She's all right; doesn't eat much, but her pulse is normal--little excited, but hardly noticeable. Loves that fellow, doesn't she? Strong, good-looking boy, but not very practical. Hope he'll come out all right. Ah, I was going to say something, but it has escaped me. Oh, yes, you are in love with Guinea. Be frank, now."

"Yes, I worship her."

"Hardly the word, but it will do, on an impulse. I think a good deal of her myself. I said just now that she wouldn't wipe her feet on you, and I beg your pardon. She may wipe them on you. You are going to stay here, eh? Well, come over to the house. No reason why there should be any ill-will between us. Good-day."

I sat down on the step and watched him until he had ridden out of sight, and I was pleased that he went toward his home, not that I was afraid of a renewal of the engagement; I knew that it was forever set aside. But I felt that his overtaking the wagon would bring an additional trouble to the father and the mother; indeed, I was afraid that the old man might kill him. Strange fellow Chyd was, and I liked him as an oddity, as something wholly different from myself or from any impulsive being. He was not cruel--he simply had no heart.

CHAPTER XVIII.

I walked about the old place until nearly noon, and then I went to town.

The jailer met me with a doubtful shaking of his scheming head, and I knew that again he had received orders to be rigid in his discipline, but I was resolved that the old rascal's appet.i.te for liquor should not play a second prank upon me; so when he hinted at another bottle I told him that I had spent so much of my life as a temperance lecturer that it was against my conscience to buy a favor with whisky. I looked steadily at him, and he began to wince.

"Why, to be sure," said he, "but, my dear sir, I didn't buy whisky with that dollar--bought a ham with it. If I didn't I'm the biggest liar in the world; and I don't reckon there's a family in this town that needs another ham right now worse than mine does."

"That may be, but I can't afford to pay so heavy a price every time I enter this place. You know that I am a.s.sociated with the prisoner's lawyer, but we'll waive that right--I'll go to the sheriff and get an order from him."

"Why, my dear sir, that's unnecessary. Walk right in; but remember your promise not to say anything about that ham. There are a lot of vegetarians in this town, and if they hear of my eating meat they'll hold it against me. Walk in, sir."

I found Alf in high spirits. Conkwright had called and had a.s.sured him that his day of liberty was not far off. I told him that the old house was deserted, and he stood musing, looking at me dreamily, as if his mind were hovering over the scenes of his boyhood. I let him dream, for I knew the sweetness of a melancholy reverie. Sometimes the soul is impatient of the body's dogged hold on life, and steals away to view its future domain, to draw in advance upon its coming freedom--now lingering, now swifter than a hawk--and then it comes back and we say that we have been absent-minded. Alf started--his soul had returned.

"And weren't you surprised to see them drive toward town?" he asked.

"Who, your parents and Guinea? They didn't; they drove toward the railway station."

"But they came to town, my dear boy--were here in this jail. They must have driven round to deceive you, for they knew that you would want to come with them, and they deceived you to spare you the pain of seeing us together. And I'm glad you were spared, though mother stood it much better than I expected. But this was because she firmly believes I'll be cleared. They haven't been gone a great while--there's a station not far from this town. Father played another trick on you. Yesterday, when he came to town to deed over the land, he left you dozing in the wagon and slipped off round here. I was surprised, for I had positively ordered him not to come. But he set me to laughing before he got in. 'Open that door by the order of the sheriff!' he cried at the jailer. 'Here's the order; look at it, but don't you look at me. Fight you in a minit.' And then he came in, and the first thing he told me was that they had gaffs on. He said that he had fought hard to keep mother from coming, at night when the rest were asleep; and I swore that she must not come, but she did. Bill, you brought me a message that sent me to heaven; and now let me ask if you know that Guinea loves you? There, don't say a word--you know it. She told me, standing where you are now--told me everything, and what a talker she is when once she is started. But you must let her have her way, and she will come to you, holding out her hands. Have you seen Millie?"

"No, not since that night. But I am going to see her."

Then I told him that Chyd had come to the house--I reproduced the scene, and Alf's merriment rang throughout the jail.

"Yes," he said, "you can go over there all right enough. The General likes you, anyway. I don't know what he thinks of me--still sizes me as a boy, I suppose; and if he were to come in here now I believe he would ask me what father was doing. But it makes no difference what he thinks.

The judge tells me that you are going to study law with him. Jumped into an interesting case right at once, didn't you?"

We talked a long time and we laughed a great deal, for we were in a paradise, although in a jail. And I left him with a promise that I would soon bring him a direct word from Millie.

I found Conkwright in his office, with his slippered feet on a table. He bade me come in, and he said nothing more, but sat there pressing his closed eye-lids with his thumb and fore-finger. How square a chin he had and how rugged was his face, trenched with the deep ruts of many a combat. His had been a life of turmoil and of fight. He was not born of the aristocracy. I had heard that he was the son of a Yankee clock peddler. But to success he had fought his way, over many an aristocratic failure.

"Judge, have you finally decided that I may come into your office?"

"Thought we settled that at first," he replied, without opening his eyes. "Yes, you may come in; glad to have you, and, by the way, I've got some work I want you to do right now. A woman was in here to-day to see if I could get her husband out of the penitentiary. I don't know but I helped put him there--believe I did. I was busy when she came in, and when she went away I remembered how poorly she was dressed, and I am afraid that I didn't speak to her as kindly as I should have. She lives at the south end of the street behind the jail, left hand side, I believe. Look in that vest hanging up there and you'll find twenty dollars in the pocket, right hand side, I think. Take the money and slip down to that woman's house and give it to her. But don't let anyone see you and don't tell her who sent it. Might tell her that the State sent it as wages due for overtime put in by her husband. And you needn't come back this evening, for it's time to close up."

I looked back at him as I stepped out. He had not changed his position and his eyes were still closed. And this was my first work as a student of the law--a brave beginning, the agent of a n.o.ble design. I found the place without having to make inquiry, and a wretched hut it was. The woman was shabby and two ragged children were lying on the floor. I gave her the twenty dollars--I did more, I gave her a part of the money which Perdue had given me. I explained that her husband had worked overtime and that the State, following an old custom, had sent her the wages of his extra labor. She was not a very good-natured woman; she said that the State and the rest of us ought to be ashamed of ourselves for having robbed her of her husband, and she declared that if she ever got money enough she would sue old Conkwright and the sheriff and everybody else.

I was glad enough to quit that wretched and depressing scene; and in the cool of the evening I strolled about the town. The business part of the place was mean, but further out there were handsome old residences, pillared and vine-clad. And in front of the most attractive one I halted to gaze at the trees and the shrubbery, dim in the twilight.

A boy came along and I asked him who lived there and he answered: "Judge Conkwright."

"He deserves to live in even a better house," I mused, as I turned away; and just then I was clapped upon the shoulder with a "h.e.l.loa, my old friend"--the telegraph operator. I shook hands with him, and at once he began to tell me of his affairs. "Getting along all right," he said.

"Haven't got quite as much freedom as I used to have, but I reckon it's better for me. Wife thinks so much of me that she's jealous of the boys--don't want me to stay out with them at night. Don't reckon there's anything more exacting than a rag. But I had to have one. Without calico there ain't much real fun in this life. But enough of calico's society is about the enoughest enough a man can fetch up in his mind. Tell you what--I'll run on home and come back, and then you can go with me."

"No, I couldn't think of putting you to so much trouble."

"Won't be any trouble. Simply don't want to surprise her, you know."

"I'll call on you before long, but now I must go to the tavern."

"All right, and if I can get off I'll come over to see you. And I'll tell you what we'll do along about 11 o'clock. We'll go over to Atcherson's store with a lot of fellers and cook some eggs in the top of a paste-board hat box. Ever cook them that way? It's a world beater.

Just break the eggs in the lid of the box and put it on the stove and there you are. Finest stuff you ever eat. But while you're eating you mustn't let them tell that jug story. Couldn't eat a bite after that.

Well, I leave you here."

Fearing that the operator's "rag" might fail in the strict enforcement of the regulations that had been thrown about the night-time movements of her husband, that he might break out of the circle of his wife's fondness and call on me at the tavern, I left that place soon after supper and resumed my walk about the town. In some distant place where the land was dry a shower of rain had fallen, for the air was quickened with the coming of that dusty, delicious smell, that reminiscent incense which more than the perfume of flower or shrub takes us back to the lanes and the sweet loitering places of youth. Happiness will not bear a close inspection; to be flawless it must be viewed from a distance--we must look forward to something longed for, or backward to some time remembered; and my happiness on this night was not perfect, for a sense of loneliness curdled it with regret, but here and there, as I walked along, I found myself in an ecstasy--my nerves thrilled one another like crossed wires, electrified. I knew that it might be a long time before I should hear from Guinea, but I was still drunk with the newness of the feeling that she loved me.

Prayer-meeting bells were ringing, and old men and old women came out of the dark shadow of the trees, into the light that burned in front of a church--hearts that with age were slow and heavy, praying for the blessing of an Infinite Mystery. I entered the church and knelt down to pray, for I am not so advanced a thinker as the man who questions the existence of G.o.d; but I must admit that my thoughts were far away from the mumblings that I heard about me, far, indeed, from the mutterings of my own lips; and so I went out and sniffed the prayer of nature, the smell of rain that came from far off down the dusty road.

Early the next morning I went to Conkwright's office, to tell him that for a time I preferred to study in the country. The old man was walking up and down the room, with his hands behind him.

"Did you find that woman?" he asked.

"Yes, and I let no one see me."

"Good. You gave her the twenty dollars, and--is that all you gave her?"

"Why, that was all you told me to give her."

"Yes, I know, but didn't you give her some of your own money? Speak out now. No shilly-shallying with me."

"Well, she was so wretched that I gave her five dollars of my own money."

"You did, eh? The money you borrowed from me, you mean?"

"No, money that old Perdue thinks I earned. He insisted upon my taking twenty-five dollars."

"It's all right, my boy. Yes, it's all right, but you'll have to be more careful. It is n.o.ble to give, but it is not wise to look for an opportunity. It is better to give to the young than to the old, for the good we do the youth grows with him into a hallowed memory--stimulates him to help others--while the memory of the aged is fitful. Whenever you see a boy trying to amount to something, help him, for that is a direct good, done to mankind. Now to business. Have you read Blackstone?"

"Yes, but not thoroughly. I have never owned his book."

"There he is on my desk. I keep him near me. The lawyer who outgrows that book--well, I may be an old fogy on the subject, so I'll say nothing more except to commend the treatise to a lawyer as I would the multiplication table to a student of mathematics. And now let me say that when you have been with me one year we will begin to talk about other matters, the question of money, for instance. Don't be extravagant--don't give money because you don't know what else to do with it--and I will see that you shall not want for anything. Oh, yes, I know you are thinking of getting married, but it won't cost much to keep your wife. We'll fix all that, and if I don't make a lawyer out of you I am much fooled. You are in love and are mighty sappy just at present, but you'll come round all right; yes, sir, all right after a while."