The Starbucks Part 22

"There's hardly any way for a woman to be great," she said. "All I can hope for is not to be foolish."

"You couldn't be foolish. You might make a man foolish, but you--"

"Oh, how could I make anybody foolish?" she cried, and leaving the table she stood leaning upon the back of a rocking chair.

"How long have you known Mr. Peters?" he inquired and he appeared to be embarra.s.sed.

"All my life."

"Is he game?"

"Game enough, I reckon. Why do you ask?"

"I met him in the road and without cause he insulted me. And I could have killed him!"

"He insulted you?" and she came closer to him. "Insulted you? Then why didn't you kill him?"

"Because--because--I can't tell you now and you musn't ask."

Away from him she turned her head. "All right, I won't ask."

Margaret came to the door. "Lou, go down to the spring house and fetch me that jar of b.u.t.ter," and coming into the room as Lou started, she added, just as Jasper came in. "It's a mighty heavy jar, Mr. Elliott.

You mout go an' help her."

"Oh, may I?" Tom asked of Lou.

"Yes, you may, but--"

"But what?"

"I won't ask you to."

"Oh, you won't have to ask me."

"Well, then, come on."

Jasper looked knowingly at Margaret, who, laughing, went back into the kitchen and the old man, shaking his head, humorously mused: "Blamed if I don't wish I could fix up things thatter way." He sat down, took up a lap-board, and upon it began to cut a piece of leather; but leaving off the work, gave himself up to deep thought. "Shot fo' and s...o...b..d three,"

he said, his mind on the story paper. "Ah, it may not be true, but it sounds mighty natchul. I wonder how it all is goin' to end. Don't want to think about it; wush I could think of somethin' else. Margaret's got her heart set. And I wonder if my little girl has too. If she has it's the first time, an' if his heart don't come when hers calls it, it will never call ag'in." And for a long time he sat there, immovable, gazing; and in his old eyes there was a dream.

CHAPTER XIII.

MIGHT WIPE HER FEET ON HIM.

Old Jasper's meditations were disturbed by Kintchin who thrust his head through the window and inquired: "Doan want me to take dat co'n ober ter Spencer's 'fo' dinner, does you?"

"No, any time this evenin' will do."

The negro came into the house and as he entered Starbuck said to him: "And while you are resting you mout grind the axes."

"Yas, suh; grind de axes while I's er restin'. Look yere, Mr. Starbuck, ain't you got some work fur me ter do while I's er eatin'?"

"Let me see. I reckon I can rig up a thing so you can churn with yo'

foot."

"Yas, suh. But whut's de use in stoppin' dar? You mout ez well scuffle roun' an' fin' suthin fur me ter do wid de udder foot. Look yere, Mr.

Starbuck, ef it's jest de same ter you, I blebe I'd like ter quit dis place."

"Why do you want to quit? Don't I give you plenty to do?"

"Oh, yas, suh; dat is on er pinch. But de truf is it 'pear ter me like things er gittin' sort er squawlly roun' yere. Dat man Peters he's threatenin' ter knock er nail kag in de head an' ring er dish rag an' I doan want ter git in no row. You Starbuck folks may not mind it, but I ain't uster bein' shot. He say he gwine be 'p'inted deputy marshal, an'

w'en he sees me er grindin' de co'n he gwine put er lot o' holes th'u'

me. I doan want ter look like no sifter."

Jasper arose, put down his lapboard, shut his knife and with a serious air said to the old darkey. "I'm here to protect, you, Kintchin."

"Yas, suh, but you mout do de most o' yo' pertectin' atter I'se dun dead."

"Wall, atter you're dead it won't make any difference."

"N--n--no, suh, dat's er fack. I hadn't thought o' dat. Funny how sich er 'po'tent p'int will come ter er man w'en he neber did think o' it befo', ain't it?"

"Don't you worry. You air safe enough."

"Safe ernuff? I doan know whut you calls safe ernuff. You mout feel like you's safe ernuff ez long ez you ain't lost bof laigs an' er arm or two, but dat sort er safe doan suit me."

"I give you my word, an' you know whut that means."

"Yas, suh, I knows all 'bout dat, but er word kain't stop er bullet."

Over to the old negro he slowly walked and gently put his hand on his shoulder: "My word can, old man--mine has, an' I will protect you with my life."

"Yas, suh, an' I'll stay, but ef I gits killed I gwine hol' you 'sponsible. Mark whut I tells you." He turned to go and at that moment Peters entered the room. The negro quickly shambled to get out of his way, and halted in the door.

"Starbuck," said the visitor, "thought I'd drap over to see you ag'in.

And whut's that n.i.g.g.e.r always hangin' round fur when I want to talk to you?"

"Lives here, don't he?"

"That ourt ter settle it but, I lay it won't," muttered the negro, standing in the door. Peters turned toward him with the remark:

"That vote they give you don't count for much."

"No, suh, not till da counts it."

"Shut up."