Chapter XI: The Root of an Evil

The summer was remarkably hot. July had arrived. The great swamp which, except in August, was usually too wet for a well-clad traveler to pass through with dry feet, was almost ungirded of its water-belt.

Ratke and his sister were preparing to start for Sharptown. The preceding sentence should be amended by the addition that Mrs. Grippin was actively flying about, while the major was conning a treatise of Lord Shaftesbury's.

"I'd like to know where you got the money to pay Green?", said the housekeeper. "You hadn't ought to be afraid of me. I'm not going to tattle about it. You've got secret all to once, haven't you?"

"I believe in maintaining silence when the occasion demands it," replied the major, "and it does in the present instance."

"I don't care so much who you got the money of," said Mrs. Grippin, "as what you had to do to get it. You said you couldn't find it, and you'd hunted all over, and you didn't tell me any different till the other day. I'm afraid you had to do something desperate."

"I found the money to pay Green," said Ratke. "Further than that I can tell you nothing."

"James Ratke," said Mrs. Grippin, breaking into tears, "I have slaved for you half life. I have looked to your interests when you were careless of them. I have cooked for your hired men and scrubbed floors till I have nearly broken myself down. Look at my hands, James Ratke! They have been crooked doing your washing and mending. I never wanted any pay. I only wanted to know that you was getting along, and that I could have a place to stay when I was so old I couldn't work. And now, when the home is going, you won't even tell me how long before I am turned out into the streets."

"We will not believe that we are going to lose the place," returned the major soothingly. "An honorable man holds the claim against it. I did not mean to hurt your feelings, Maria, or to manifest a lack of confidence in you. I appreciate what you have done for me and I mean to repay you, as far as I can, by making you comfortable in your old age."

It was seldom that Mrs. Grippin was absent from the farm. This rare occurrence was welcomed with rapture by more than one whom it concerned. Archer was at liberty to help himself to bread and butter, whenever he chose. Brown and Thompson could have each two pieces of pie without encountering a savage glance which destroyed their appetites. Nora sat by Montcalm and talked and laughed with him in a way which would have shocked her proper aunt had that lady been present.

"Come in this way. Trace," she cried, rushing to the parlor. "It's cool in here. Oh my! Isn't this a nice place? I'll shut the door," she said as Montcalm entered. "Then they can't hear what we say. Oh, Trace, we haven't had a chance to talk alone for a good while. Aunt Maria does watch us so close. I'm glad she's gone. It's the day Uncle James promised to pay Uncle Si, and he's gone after the money. I tell you it's a lot of it. It's over $14,000."

"I should think Mr. Green would be afraid to have such a sum brought to his house," said Montcalm, "seeing that there are thieves about."

"He had to have it brought here," explained Nora. "It was to be paid in this house, and then he takes a good deal of pains not to be robbed. He has the strongest locks on his house, a lock on every door and a burglar alarm besides."

"That is caution itself," said Montcalm. "It is not often that a house has a lock on every door. Generally some of them are bolted."

"Oh, yes," said Nora, "that is the way with Uncle Si's. He fastens the cellar door with a hook. I remember hooking that when I was a little girl. Then the hook was higher than my head. Now it comes up just to my shoulders."

"You have forgotten," said Montcalm. "It lacks a trifle of being as high as your shoulder."

"What do you know about it?" asked Nora. "You never were there."

"I know by intuition," said Montcalm. "Second sight, perhaps you would call it."

"Oh, bother your second sight," returned Nora. "Don't try to fool me in that way. Are you going away before long?"

"Perhaps," answered Montcalm. "I have thought of telling the major that I can work for him no longer."

"And you'll send for me, as you said you would, when you get the store started." So saying, Nora sat in his lap and gave his collar a playful shake.

Montcalm looked down pityingly into her face. He had not at first meant to win her affections. Feeling his power, he had determined to test it, and its exercise had made her his slave. The lies which he had told her were for the purpose of giving her temporary satisfaction, but they had doubled the difficulty in disentangling himself without giving her the pain which he dreaded to inflict.

"Do not count too much on the store," said Montcalm. "I am not now in the best of circumstances, and it may be years before I can start in business."

"Why!" exclaimed Nora, a disappointed look creeping across her face, "didn't you mean what you said?"

"Oh, yes," answered Montcalm, as he felt unable to use the candor with which he had resolved to speak, "we will go just as we have intended. But be patient."

"It wouldn't need so much to start a store in a little village like Break o'Day," said Nora. "You say you've got a few hundred. So have I. I've got one uncle and an aunt that's well off. Right here are two checks, Trace," she said, coming from her bedroom with some papers. "They are for $500. Take them now. I won't want them. Aunt Emma gave me one and Uncle Si the other. You see I can help, and I feel just like helping to get along."

"No, no," expostulated Montcalm, thoroughly despising his own deceit. "I will not. I hope myself to earn the money soon."

"Oh, yes, take them," urged Nora. "It don't make any difference to me who has them, only I want to show you that I won't be a hindrance to you."

"No, you will not," said Montcalm sorrowfully. "Keep your money, Nora. By and by we can share our property equally. But wait until we are married."

At the sound of the last word Nora's face lighted up, and she pressed closer to him.

"When will that be. Trace?" she inquired. "We have talked about it, but we have never set the time. Once in a while I think it never will be."

"We must not be impatient," replied Montcalm. "It may be a year or two before I am ready to marry. If the delay interferes with your happiness, I will release you from your promise."

"You are tired of me," said Nora, her voice betraying her disappointment. "I was afraid you would be. But I won't beg for your favor if I die. I'll keep away from you, and I won't bother you any more."

"What is my little girl thinking of?" asked the miserable Montcalm, drawing her back to him. "Does she imagine I am tired of her because I will not take her money? I could not do that, Nora. I would hate myself for such an act. We can wait awhile. Neither of us are old. I will prepare a home for you, and then I want you. We will be happy then."

"Oh, I hear Aunt Maria talking in the dining-room!" exclaimed Nora. "She mustn't suspect that we've been in here together. Quick, Trace, slip right out of this door. I'll toss your hat out of the kitchen."

"You go in, Major," said Montcalm, as he neared Ratke. "I will care for the team."

"You may if you like," answered the major. "I am very hungry."

Mrs. Grippin suspected that many misdemeanors had been committed during her absence. Nora should have been taking care of the dishes instead of sitting in the parlor. The men had not scraped their feet when they came into the house, they had left the butter in bad shape, and some of them had taken two pieces of pie.

"Don't be so long," said the housekeeper, as her brother leisurely entered the house. "He'll be here in a little while. You want to be ready to do business with him when he comes."

"Precipitancy," replied the major, "is a common evil, and I intend that it shall not ruin me. If you think twice before you speak or act, you avoid many mistakes which you would otherwise make."

"Yes," answered Mrs. Grippin, "but if you are always thinking and never acting, it don't amount to much. I wish you'd eat so I can get my work done up."

After dinner the major went to the bam to talk with Montcalm.

"Come, Nora," said Mrs. Grippin. "Take hold and clear up the table. You're not very tired. It don't hurt you any more to work than it does me."

"Some one is at the door," said Manie.

"Come in," said the housekeeper, as she ushered their expected guest into the parlor.

"Are the folks all well?" asked Green, with a degree of politeness to which he was unaccustomed.

"Well enough," returned Mrs. Grippin shortly. "James will be in in a few minutes. You can make yourself comfortable until he comes."

Partly obeying the directions of the housekeeper. Green sat down, but he did not make himself comfortable. He arose to his feet, and strode about the room in an oval circuit, unconsciously following the same path through each evolution. When this became monotonous, he resumed his seat and tapped the floor alternately with his heel and his toe. As the major entered the apartment, he wsa again walking the floor.

"Why, Uncle Si," said Nora, following closely after Ratke, "you haven't been here in a long time. Why don't you ever come around?"

"Oh, I don't get around to visit much," returned Green. "I have a good deal to do."

"I should think you have a good deal to do," said Nora. "You never go anywhere only on business. If I was worth so much as you, I'd call around after my friends. You don't have so much leisure as lots of poor folks."

"That's what makes 'em poor," returned Green. "They have too much leisure."

"How much do I owe you?" inquired Ratke, with a mixture of dignity and civility.

"Fourteen thousand five hundred and forty-two dollars and ninety-two cents," answered Green.

"You are mistaken," said Ratke. "The amount is fourteen thousand five hundred and forty-two dollars forty-one cents, four and sixty-three hundredths mills."

"There ain't any mistake on my side," returned Green. "Collins is as good a lawyer as there is in Jackson, and he figured it."

"Mr. Collins may be good authority," Ratke rejoined; "but the figures are better, and I will show them to you."

"Oh, I'm satisfied with Collins's work," said Green. "He's always done my business, and he's always straight."

"No doubt you are satisfied," responded the major, "because his mistake, if sanctioned by me, would put a half dollar in your pocket. I oppose it, not for the half-dollar, but for the principle which is involved."

"I'll take my mortgage and go home," said Green. "If I can't get what belongs to me in one way, I will in another."

"Maria," called the major, "you and Manie come here. Here," he continued, addressing Green, "in the presence of three witnesses, I offer you fourteen thousand five hundred forty-two dollars, forty-one cents, four and sixty-three hundredths mills, or, on account of the difficulty in making change, fourteen thousand five hundred forty-two dollars and forty-two cents."

"What is this about?" inquired Mrs. Grippin, looking in turn from Ratke to Green.

"He wants to cheat me out of fifty-one cents," replied Green. "I tell him I'll take the mortgage and go home first."

The money-lender shrank back as he saw the change in the aspect of Mrs. Grippin. Her form straightened, her upper lip rose with an expression of ferocity, her long fingers gripped together like the talons of a destructive bird.

"You, Josiah Green!" she said slowly. "You talk of cheating, you that never did anything but cheat!"

"Oh, Maria," expostulated the major, "remember he is a guest in our house. We must not disgrace ourselves by treating him with discourtesy."

"You can't run me, James Ratke," retorted the angry woman, "if you do run the rest of the town. 'Tend to your own business, and I'll 'tend to mine. You bought a cow of him. Si Green, when you couldn't get trusted anywhere else. You got money to help you with the mortgage on your place, and you cheated him out of it. You got wheat of him when your family was sick, and you said they'd starve if they didn't have help. Do you remember you came here and said you'd like to get a few pounds of butter, and you'd pay for it the next week.' You've never said a word to me about that butter from that day to this. Now I want you to settle that account."

"I won't bother about the half dollar. Major," said Green. "Have it as you want it."

"Very well," said Ratke, "here is the full amount."

"When do you intend to pay me for that butter?" asked Mrs. Grippin, as Green was retreating to the road. "Si Green, you get up in church and speak, and say you are glad you chose the better way. What better way do you mean.' A better way to smouse folks is the only way you've chose since I've known you. That's all the lingo you've got, and you can't make up another. I sit where I can see you in meeting. If you don't pay me for that butter, I'll look you right in the face as you speak. Then say you've chose the better way if you can."

"How much is it?" asked Green, turning suddenly about.

"There was four pounds and a half of the butter," answered Mrs. Grippin, "and it was twenty cents a pound. That would be ninety cents. I'll call it six shillings."

"Here," said Green feeling that he deserved credit for generosity, "here is a dollar. That makes us square."

Fearing that Mrs. Grippin would make another demand, the penurious farmer hastened to the road, untied his horse by a few quick, nervous jerks and drove rapidly away.

Ten minutes afterward, in response to the call of a neighbor, Ratke went out to the gate and received a letter, the body of which, written by Durgenson, is subjoined:

"I dislike to speak about the sum I lent you. But the trouble is I am hard-pushed. I have got to have $4,000 the 24th of this month. After that I will get along two or three hears without any more. Have it ready for me the afternoon of the 23rd, when I will come to your house."