Teeftallow/Chapter 35

ABNER'S high sacrifical mood which prompted him to hazard life and limb for Adelaide Jones lasted no longer than the night. He awoke next morning gloomily certain that Adelaide had accepted Buckingham Sharp's proposal of marriage, and he had become indifferent to the threatened strike and the wreck of her fortune.

He sighed heavily, sat up on the side of his bed in the cold autumn morning, yawned, and began pulling on his shoes and trousers. One reason for Abner's lapse from idealism was that he had slept in a small, tightly closed bedroom in order to exclude the unhealthful night air. His chamber was now filled with stale air and the odour of his body.

Another yawn was interrupted by his door creaking open; he covered himself hastily and growled, "Keep out!"

Mrs. Sandage's voice said in her flat country accent, "I'm not comin' in, I'll jest stick in my head," thereupon her head appeared around the edge of the door.

Abner looked at it resentfully. "I'm not dressed," he repeated.

"Well, I'm not comin' in.—Say, what's this I hear about you goin' to work on the railroad ag'in?"

"Who told you that?"

"Aline."

"Well, you tell Aline—No, don't tell her nuthin'. I don't like that nigger nohow."

"Well, I couldn't see no sense in you workin' after you got money. I told Aline they wasn't no sense to it."

"You told her right."

Another brief silence; the head in the doorway gazed past ​Abner in an effort to recapture some escaped thread of thought.

"Oh, by the way, Jim's awful worried."

"What about?"

"They say Perry Northcutt's goin' to start an investigation of what Jim's done with the county's money."

Up to this point Abner had been trying to drive Mrs. Sandage out of his room by the expression of his face; now he put his feet under the cover for a prolonged conversation.

"No sense to that, Miss Haly. What would Perry start an investigation for? He's the one that's finally gittin' the money."

"That's a fack," assented the head, staring at Abner, "but I bet it's so; nearly all bad news is."

"You're jest skeered, Miss Haly. A man wouldn't quarrel with his own pocketbook."

"No-o. . . . I reckon not. . . . If he was to, Mr. Jones would haff to git the county's money up for Jim mighty quick so he could show it."

"Well, of course he would. Jim would hand it right back to him as soon as the investigation was over."

"Now, d'reckon he would? Did je ever hear or Mr. Jones payin' anything?"

"My Lord, that wouldn't be payin' it—handin' it out, takin' it back. How much is it?"

"Over thirty thousan' now."

"Why, Miss Haly, his railroad costs a quarter of a million; thirty thousan' would jest be his pocket change."

The woman pondered. "I guess Jim's worried about nothin'," she agreed uneasily. "Anyway, Abner, if you can help break that strike I wish you'd do it. Anything to help Mr. Jones on his feet again will help all of us."

"Oh, I don't min' workin' some more," agreed Abner good-naturedly.

The head withdrew as unceremoniously as it had entered. Abner got briskly into his clothes and went down to the breakfast table. Jim and Mrs. Sandage had eaten and the ​table was disarranged. The breakfast of fried chicken, boiled potatoes, cabbage, and apple pie had become cold. Presently Aline entered with a cup of lukewarm coffee and marked her contempt of the meal with an audible sniff. Aline had worked for Judge Stone; she knew what a breakfast ought to be.

As Abner ate, Beatrice Belle came into the dining room with her pale hair wound up on curlers. She rubbed her puffed eyes and regarded the table with a hostility equal to Aline's.

"Mammy makes me so tired," she whined. "Cabbage and potatoes for breakfast to suit Pappy's whims."

"He got used to it on the farm," defended Abner absently. "I like it myself."

"You an' Daddy will always be country," stated Beatrice disagreeably.

"Looky here," growled the youth, "I'd ruther be from the country than one of thess sissy town johnnies."

The girl made a little moue and became silent; presently she asked, "Where did you go last night?"

"Home. I couldn't dance."

"Well, you ort to of stayed instead of runnin' off an' gittin' me insulted," reproved Beatrice sharply.

"Insulted!"

"Yes, I couldn't find you, so I picked up that Sim Pratt."

"You don't mean that he—"

"He certainly did. I was drivin' an' he put his arm around me. I pushed him away but purty soon he done it again."

"Whyn't you make him git out an' walk?"

"I tried to but he wouldn't git out. He said it was dangerous for a young girl to be drivin' alone at night; somebody might do somethin' to her."

"An' him settin' there doin' it hisse'f!"

"He was jest tryin' to be smart."

Abner bit off the end of his chicken bone and crunched it in his teeth. "I'll fix him for that—he won't bother you no more."

​Beatrice's expression changed. "What are you goin' to do to him?"

"I'll mop up his drug store with him!" Abner leaned over his plate, dropped the shreds of chewed bone on it.

Beatrice watched him apprehensively. "Look here, Abner, they ain't no use fightin' about it. Besides, he's so little you could lick him with one finger. That's what I don't like about him; he's so little and puny. One night I ast him did he ever gamble or git drunk. He got so serious; he said, 'Miss Beatrice, upon my honour, I never did.' I thought, 'You little sissy!'"

Abner got up and pushed his chair from the table with a backward motion of his knees.

"Where you goin'?"

"To see Pratt."

"No, you don't," protested Beatrice. "You let Sim Pratt alone. I can manage my own affairs."

At this moment Mrs. Sandage entered the dining room.

"What's this about Mr. Pratt?" she asked suspiciously.

"He was tryin' to hug her last night!" snapped Abner.

"You permitted it, B'atrice Sandage!"

"Naw!" cried Beatrice at this new outrage. "I was tellin' Abner to leave him be!"

"He ortn't to be left be! Abner ort to settle with him!"

"Oh, Mammy, you're so countrified! Adelaide says as long as a girl can breathe she don't need protection."

Abner left the two in the midst of a quarrel, with the maid Aline standing to one side with down-drawn lips and lifted brows.

Abner Teeftallow set out for the drug store. He was irritated at Pratt for the brotherly reason that he could not sympathize with the drug clerk in his desire to caress Beatrice Belle; therefore he would put the young man in his place.

Then the lawsuit and Jim's money, Adelaide Jones and Buck Sharp, all drifted through his mind, each bearing its own savour of gall. He sighed heavily. He certainly had got up on the wrong side of the bed that morning.

​Another thing that vexed him was that somehow he felt restless with nothing to do. He couldn't understand it. Here he was with money and idleness, the two goals of a hillman's life, and yet he was not half so contented as when he was working on the railroad—damn funny thing! Well, he would just go back and work on the railroad, since Jim and Haly seemed to want him to. . . .

Here Abner turned into Ransom's drug store.

The store appeared empty of persons. Abner became suspicious that Pratt had seen him and had slipped out of some rear entrance. He was about to call Pratt's name when he caught sight of the round top of a sleek black head over the prescription counter. The mere sleekness of this head incensed the teamster anew. He strode silently to the back of the store, staring fixedly at the obnoxious hair as men and animals do when they stalk their enemies.

At his step Mr. Pratt came to the entrance of his den holding a large-sized bottle in one hand and a small one in the other.

"Good-morning, Mr. Teeftallow," he saluted in clerkly fashion. "Glad you come in. I was just wishing I could see you."

"Well, by God, you're goin' to see me all right!" snarled Abner.

Mr. Pratt was so wrapped up in his project, whatever it was, he did not observe Abner's angry tone.

"Sure glad of it," repeated Pratt earnestly. "Say, look here, are you goin' to be at the head of the men?"

The drug clerk put down his big bottle and came up to Abner, shaking the smaller one.

"Head of what men?" growled Abner.

"Why, the strike breakers!"

Abner deferred his attack for a few moments.

"Hell, no, I ain't the head of no strike breakers!"

Mr. Pratt appeared disappointed. "I heard you were. Do you know who is?"

"No, I don't," reflected Abner, "unless it's Bascom."

​Mr. Pratt came closer, lowered his voice, and reddened slightly. "Anyway, when you join, d'reckon you could get me in with you?"

Abner looked at the little clerk with surprise and distaste.

"What in the hell do you want to join fer?"

Mr. Pratt became more embarrassed and stammered in an undertone, "Uh—to tell the truth—it—it's Miss Beatrice. . . ."

Abner could do nothing but stare in amazement. The drug clerk went on more confusedly than ever:

"She—you know—don't like a fellow who—er—just stays in a drug store—where nothin' happens—I mean like mobs and gambling an' shootings—something that appeals to a girl—I mean in a man. Mr. Ransom said he would give me a week off, and I—I thought if you could get me in with the strike breakers, and—and there was some—some fighting and shooting and drinking or—or something, it—it"—Mr. Pratt swallowed—"it would please her. . . ."

"Fuh God's sake, what an idyah!" ejaculated Abner.

However, the idea effectually stopped Abner from slapping Mr. Pratt's jaws as he had intended. It left the teamster a little at sea. He decided quickly, since he could not beat up Mr. Pratt, he would "bawl him out."

Abner cleared his throat and began his bawling out.

"Look here, Pratt, whether you go or don't go, I don't give a damn. I come here to see you about what you done to Beatrice Belle las' night."

"What was that?" asked the drug clerk, quite astonished at this turn.

"Well, you—er—kep' huggin' her after she tol' you not to."

"They all tell you not to," he said, still mystified.

"Well, by God, Pratt—

"An' besides, we'd been hugging all evening."

"You had!"

"Dancing."

"Dancin's one thing and huggin's another. You knowed ​that was wrong, Pratt!" Abner shook a finger at the offending drug clerk. "If a man don't respect the virture of a pure woman, Pratt, he ain't fitten for the decent men of the county to wipe their feet on." Abner was mounting a high horse whose riding comes natural to all Southerneres. "I say if a man don't hold the honour of his sweetheart closter than he does his own life, he ort to be beat up an' run out of the county! He ort to be—"

At this moment a voice from behind the prescription counter called out curiously, "Ain't that Ab Teeftaller out there?"

"Yeh," ejaculated Abner, startled into ending his harangue.

"By gum, Ab, I ain't seed you for a long time. Heard you got rich as a cattle pen all of a sudden."

Speaking these words, a man in overalls appeared at the entrance of the prescription department. Abner stared a moment and then exclaimed cordially so as not to appear stuck-up, "Why, hello, Tim Fraley, what you doin' up here?"

But the man who has to think not to be stuck-up is stuck-up, and Mr. Fraley saw through Abner's pretence, so he said with a slightly sardonic air, "Oh, camp's jest a mile or two out o' town where us hill-billies stay."

Abner felt the innuendo; there was a moment's hesitation, then, from Abner with renewed cordiality, "Arntown 'bout the same as usual, Tim?"

"I guess so—they're all stirred up over the railroad suit—I guess you don't keep up with sich little things sence you come into yore own."

"Sure I do," protested Abner uncomfortably.

"Well, we've got some little news back there—Tug Beavers is comin' back to hold a meetin' there before long."

"Is that a fack!" cried Abner, pleased at Tug's extraordinary progress.

"Yep, an' they say Professor Overall has landed the winter school here in Lanesburg."

"Now, by God, there's a man of learnin'," praised Abner ​warmly. "He learned me all I know or ever expect to know."

"Yep, an' I suppose you heard about Nessie Sutton—Nessie Belshue, she is now?"

A tickling came over Abner's scalp, as if someone had douched him with cold water. "Why, n-n-no-o," he said.

"She's a proud mammy now—her an' Belshue's got a little gal."

"She has!" ejaculated Abner, oddly moved again.

"Yep, an' the quare part is, it's a four-months baby. She's been married to Belshue that long, but it's alive an' kickin' all right—quick action, I call it," and here Mr. Fraley burst into a roar of laughter, leaning against the prescription counter in his mirth.

Mr. Pratt stood looking from one hillman to the other.

It seemed to Abner that the floor was sinking under him. He was thinking with an overwhelming sense of pain and pathos, "A little gal—a little gal . . ." Something constricted in his throat and he heard his own voice saying in a strained tone, "Well—that—that's nice—er—Mr. Pratt—yes—I—I'm goin' with the—the strike breakers—g-get you in if I can—I got to go—" He was getting out of the drug store on shaking legs.

As he went he heard Fraley gasping out some explanation half choked with laughter. This faded to silence as Abner passed out the door. He walked unseeingly into the chill sunshine that lay over the unsightly square. The courthouse clock began slowly tolling an hour. Abner moved on with an aching throat, repeating in a whisper, "A little gal—a little gal—to bring a little gal in a worl' like this 'un."