By the time Bud returned his arm was very painful, and the next day he went under Dr. Small’s treatment to reduce the fracture. Whatever suspicions Bud might have of Pete Jones, he was not afflicted with Ralph’s dread of the silent young doctor. And if there was anything Small admired it was physical strength and courage. Small wanted Bud on his side, and least of all did he want him to be Ralph’s champion. So that the silent, cool, and skillful doctor went to work to make an impression on Bud Means.
Other influences were at work upon him also. Mrs. Means volleyed and thundered in her usual style about his “takin’ up with a one-legged thief, and runnin’ arter that master that was a mighty suspicious kind of a customer, akordin’ to her tell. She’d allers said so. Ef she’d a been consulted he wouldn’t a been hired. He warn’t fit company fer nobody.”
And old Jack Means ’lowed Bud must want to have their barns burnt like some other folkses had been. Fer his part, he had sense enough to know they was some people as it wouldn’t do to set a body’s self agin. And as fer him, he didn’t butt his brains out agin a buckeye-tree. Not when he was sober. And so they managed, during Bud’s confinement to the house, to keep him well supplied with all the ordinary discomforts of life.
But one visit from Martha Hawkins, ten words of kindly inquiry from her, and the remark that his broken arm reminded her of something she had seen at the East and something somebody said the time she was to Bosting, were enough to repay the champion a thousand fold for all that he suffered. Indeed, that visit, and the recollection of Ralph’s saying that Jesus Christ was a sort of a Flat Creeker himself, were manna in the wilderness to Bud.
Poor Shocky was sick. The excitement had been too much for him, and though his fever was very slight it was enough to produce just a little delirium. Either Ralph or Miss Martha was generally at the cabin.
“They’re coming,” said Shocky to Ralph, “they’re coming. Pete Jones is a-going to bind me out for a hundred years. I wish Hanner would hold me so’s he couldn’t. God’s forgot all about us here in Flat Creek, and there’s nobody to help it.”
And he shivered at every sudden sound. He was never free from this delirious fright except when the master held him tight in his arms. He staggered around the floor, the very shadow of Shocky, and was so terrified by the approach of darkness that Ralph stayed in the cabin on Wednesday night and Miss Hawkins stayed on Thursday night. On Friday, Bud sent a note to Ralph, askin him to come and see him.
“You see, Mr. Hartsook, I ha’n’t forgot what was said about puttin’ in our best licks for Jesus Christ. I’ve been a-trying to read some about him while I set here. And I read where he said somethin about doing fer the least of his brethren being as the same like as if it was done fer Jesus Christ his-self. Now there’s Shocky. I reckon, p’r’aps, as anybody is a little brother of Jesus Christ, it is that Shocky. Pete Jones and his brother Bill is determined to have him back there to-morry. Bekase you see, Pete’s one of the County Commissioners and to-morry’s the day that they bind out. He wants to bind out that boy jes’ to spite ole Pearson and you and me. You see, the ole woman’s been helped by the neighbors, and he’ll claim Shocky to be a pauper, and they a’n’t no human soul here as dares to do a thing contrary to Pete. Couldn’t you git him over to Lewisburg? I’ll lend you my roan colt.”
Ralph thought a minute. He dared not take Shocky to the uncle’s where he found his only home. But there was Miss Nancy Sawyer, the old maid who was everybody’s blessing. He could ask her to keep him. And, at any rate, he would save Shocky somehow.
As he went out in the dusk, he met Hannah in the lane.
XIX
Face to Face
In the lane, in the dark, under the shadow of the barn, Ralph met Hannah carrying her bucket of milk (they have no pails in Indiana).22 He could see only the white foam on the milk, and Hannah’s white face. Perhaps it was well that he could not see how white Hannah’s face was at that moment when a sudden trembling made her set down the heavy bucket. At first neither spoke. The recollection of all the joy of that walk together in the night came upon them both. And a great sense of loss made the night seem supernaturally dark to Ralph. Nor was it any lighter in the hopeless heart of the bound girl. The presence of Ralph did not now, as before, make the darkness of her life light.
“Hannah—” said Ralph presently, and stopped. For he could not finish the sentence. With a rush there came upon him a consciousness of the suspicions that filled Hannah’s mind. And with it there came a feeling of guilt. He saw himself from her standpoint, and felt a remorse almost as keen as it could have been had he been a criminal. And this sudden and morbid sense of his guilt as it appeared to Hannah paralyzed him. But when Hannah lifted her bucket with her hand, and the world with her heavy heart, and essayed to pass him, Ralph rallied and said:
“You don’t believe all these lies that are told about me.”
“I don’t believe anything, Mr. Hartsook; that is, I don’t want to believe anything against you. And I wouldn’t mind anything they say if it wasn’t for two things”—here she stammered and looked down.
“If
