Part 14 (1/2)
How can a gentleman fight such a thing with 'not a dollar spent'
announcement?”
”Phoebe,” said the major with the quick illumination of one of his challenging smiles, ”you can generally depend on the Almighty to back the right man when he's fighting the right fight. Suppose you put up a little faith on the event--be something of a sporting character and back David to win. Backing thoughts help in the winnings they tell us these days.”
”I have, Major--I am--I do, but this hunt to-night positively--positively frightens me. It seemed so--so regardless of consequences--so trivial and--and inconsequent that--” Phoebe paused and the major was astonished to see that she was veiling tears with her thick black lashes.
”Phoebe, child,” he said as he bent over quickly and laid his hand on hers, ”I ought to have answered you sooner. He is prepared to make the speech of his life tonight at seven-thirty, but at ten he joins his friends to hunt. Didn't you draw your conclusions hurriedly--and against David?”
In a second the tightness in Phoebe's throat relaxed and the tears flowed back to their source, only one little splash jeweled her cheek that had flamed into a blush of joy and contrition.
”Ah,” she said softly as she drew a deep breath, ”I am so glad--glad!... I must hurry, for I'm an hour late already. Good-by!”
”Good-by, and remember that faith is one of the by-products of affection.
And I might add that the right kind of faith finds tactful ways of--of admission. Do you see?” And the major held her hand long enough to make Phoebe look into his kind eyes.
And from the ten minutes in the library of Major Buchanan the disciplining of the heart of Phoebe Donelson began and was carried on with utter relentlessness. The first castigation occurred when David failed to phone her at two o'clock, and a half-hour later Caroline Darrah called anxiously to know her decision and impart the information that David had arranged that she and Phoebe go out to the fork in her car with Mrs. Buchanan. Phoebe, to her own surprise, found that she intensely desired another arrangement that involved David and his small electric, but she received the blow with astonis.h.i.+ng meekness and delighted Caroline with her enthusiastic acquiescence in the plans for the evening.
And so through the busy afternoon while David Kildare met committees, sent in reports and talked over plans, he also managed to sandwich in the settling of numerous little details that went to make good the night's sport. And it was all done in apparent high spirits but with an indignant pain in his usually glad heart.
Meanwhile Caroline Darrah, in a whirl of domestic excitement incident to the preparing of a hamper for the midnight lunch out on the ridge, which she had entreated Mrs. Matilda to leave entirely to her newly-acquired housewifery, stepped into the middle of the pool political and never knew it, in the innocence of her old-fas.h.i.+oned woman's heart.
”Miss Ca'line,” ventured Jeff as he a.s.sisted her in packing the huge hamper that occupied the center of the dining-room table, ”is Mister Dave sure 'pinted to be jedge of the criminal court--he ain't a-joking is he?”
”Why, no, indeed, Jeff,” answered Caroline Darrah as she rolled sandwiches in oiled paper before putting them into a box. ”What made you think that?”
”Well, it's a kinder poor white folksy job fer him, fooling with c.r.a.p-shooting n.i.g.g.e.rs and whisky soaks, but if he wants it he's got ter have it, hear me! And Miss Ca'line, some of us colored set has made up our minds that it's time fer us ter git out and dust ter help him. You see this here is a independent race and it's who gits the votes, no 'Publican er Dimocrat to it. That jest naterally turns the colored vote loose at the polls. And fer the most of the black fools it's who bids the mostes, I'm sorry ter say, as is the fact.”
”But you know Mr. David has said from the first that he will not buy a vote. Will he have to lose--how many of the colored people are there--oh, Jeff, will he have to be beaten?” Caroline Darrah clasped a sandwich to the death in her hands and questioned the negro with the same faith that she would have used in questioning Major Buchanan.
”No, ma'am, he ain't going ter git n.i.g.g.e.r-beat if we can help it--us society colored set, you understand, Miss Ca'line.” Jeff's manner was an interesting mixture of pomposity and deference.
”I don't quite understand, Jeff; you explain to me,” answered Caroline Darrah in the kind and respectful voice that she always used to these family servants, which they understood perfectly and in which they took a huge delight.
”Well, it's jest this way, Miss Ca'line, they is sets in the colored folks jest like they is in the white folks. We is the _it_ set, me and Tempie and Eph and all the fust family people. We's got our lawyers and dentists and a university and a ice-cream parlor with the swellest kinder soda fount in front. You heard how Mister David got that Country Club for us, didn't you? Well, he backed the rent notes of the soda fount, too--and he's jest naterly the fust set candidate fer anything he wants ter be.”
”Isn't he just the kindest best man, Jeff?” asked Caroline Darrah, in her enthusiasm sacrificing a frosted m.u.f.fin cake between her clasped hands.
”Yes'm, he am that fer a fact, and they can't no low-down whisky b.u.m beat him fer jedge, neither--'specially ef they count on using n.i.g.g.e.rs to do it with. You see the race am so mighty close, that all the booze bosses is a telling the n.i.g.g.e.rs that they is got the 'ballunce uf power' as they calls it and it's up ter them ter elect a jedge fer whisky, the friend 'at'll let 'em drink it down. Why, they's got out a bottle of whisky as has on the label 'Your Colored Friend', and it's put up in clear gla.s.s and at the bottom you can see five new dimes a-s.h.i.+ning. A n.i.g.g.e.r gits the bottle and the fifty cents ef he votes with them. Old Booze is flinging money right and left, fer if Mister David gits in he'll sh.o.r.e have ter git out.”
”That is perfectly awful, Jeff!” exclaimed Caroline with horror-stricken eyes. ”The poor people made to sell themselves that way--and the whole city to lose David, a good judge, because they can't know what they do.
It is horrible and n.o.body can help it!”
”I ain't so sure about that, Miss Ca'line! Me and Tempie and Doctor Pike Johnson and the dentist and Bud Simms, the man what runs the Palms, have thought up a scheme ef we kin work it. You see they ain't a n.i.g.g.e.r from Black Bottom to Mount Nebo as wouldn't sell his soul ter git ter the Country Club and say he's been invited there. Now, we thought as how it would be a good plan ter give it out that we was going to have er David Kildare jedge celebration out there and have invertation tickets printed. Then we could go ter the polls and fight down any dollar bottle of whisky ever put up with one of them invites--every man ter bring a lady, and dancing down in a corner of the card. We'd scotch them by saying no 'lection, no dance, so they'll vote straight. Ain't that the swell scheme? It'll work if we can make it go.”
”Jeff,” she exclaimed, ”that is a perfectly splendid idea! You must do it, for offering them fun will be no bribery like whisky and money--it will do them _good_.” Sometimes it is just as well that a woman be not too well versed in the science logical.
”Yes'm, and I believe it will work--ef we jest had a barbecue to put down in the other corner opposite the dancing I know it would draw 'em, but ice-cream will be about all we can git fer the subscription money, and cold as it is ice-cream won't be no drawing card.”
And there was no doubt that Jeff unfolded his plan to Caroline Darrah from pure love of sympathy and excitement and for no ulterior purpose, although it served to further his schemes as well as if he had been of a most wily turn of mind.