Together is All We Need (22 page)

‘‘—Can't think ob anythin' better fer it den effen it'd help Mr. Templeton git back here where he belongs.''

She set the fifty-five dollars down on the table in front of Katie.

‘‘Thank you, Josepha,'' said Katie with a smile.

Emma and I jumped up and ran to our rooms. Two minutes later each of our fifty-five dollars sat in two piles on the table with Josepha's.

‘‘Thank you . . . thank you all,'' said Katie. ‘‘I wish I hadn't had to ask. But I don't know how else we're going to get him free.''

‘‘It's yo money, not ours, Miz Kathleen,'' said Josepha.

‘‘But I gave it to you.''

‘‘Ain't no mo use talkin' 'bout it, Miz Kathleen. You gib it to us, an' now we gib it back an' dat's dat, an' you take it an' git dat uncle er yers back.''

‘‘When does you hab ter go back dere, Miz Katie?'' asked Emma.

‘‘As soon as we can, Emma. We've got to take this money, and all that I've got left too, to the sheriff.''

‘‘You goin' today, Miz Katie?''

‘‘Probably early tomorrow morning, Emma. We have to ride into Charlotte in time to catch a train at ten o'clock. We'll have to leave here at daybreak.''

Meanwhile, back up north, Uncle Ward had gone to see the man called Roscoe. He told us all about it later. The minute he said his name, an unfriendly look came over the rancher's face.

‘‘Daniels,''
he repeated. ‘‘You any kin to that varmint who's sitting in jail in town for swindling me?''

‘‘He's my brother.''

‘‘Then, get out! I got no business with the likes of you.''

‘‘Hold on just a minute, Roscoe,'' said Mr. Daniels. ‘‘I'm here to try to help.''

‘‘Help . . . how? What do you mean?''

‘‘My brother wants to make it right with you. I came to see if we could work something out.''

‘‘Look, mister, he swindled me. He sold me a piece of worthless land, claimed there was gold on it. Phonied the reports, showed me bits of rock with gold in it. The likes of him come from California and think we're a bunch of bumblers and that gold will turn a man's head. And maybe it does. But we take a man's word as meaning something around here. Ain't no way I can see to make right what that brother of yours done.''

‘‘What if we was to buy that piece of land back from you?''

The rancher eyed him skeptically. ‘‘You'd do that?'' he said.

‘‘I don't know—that's what we figured on trying to do. But my brother's broke. The money's all gone.''

‘‘I thought as much. Get out. He can rot in jail for all I care!''

‘‘Now, just hold on a minute, Roscoe. How much you figure that land's worth? Really worth, I mean, for your cattle or whatever you want to use it for.''

‘‘A mite hilly for cattle.''

‘‘Well, for anything else, then.''

‘‘You mean a fair price?''

‘‘Right.''

‘‘I don't know, probably a couple hundred . . . maybe two-fifty.''

‘‘What did you pay Templeton for it?''

‘‘A thousand.''

‘‘So you figure he swindled you out of eight hundred?''

‘‘Something like that.''

‘‘What if we was to give you two hundred, maybe three— cash money?''

‘‘Ain't nowhere close to eight? I'd still be out five hundred.''

‘‘Right now you're out eight hundred, ain't that it?''

Roscoe nodded.

‘‘Couldn't you use three hundred dollars?''

‘‘Sure, who couldn't?''

‘‘It's more'n you're going to get with Templeton sitting in jail. And what if we was to promise to pay back the whole thousand when we could and take the land back?''

‘‘You think I'd take
his
promise as worth anything?''

‘‘He's changed, I tell you. He's determined to make up for the wrong he's done.''

‘‘What'd he do, get religion or something—trying to atone for his sins?''

‘‘Something like that. But we didn't get religion, I reckon you'd say we got family. What's that to you anyway? We got our reasons. So I'm asking if the up-front cash money might tell you that we mean what we say?''

Roscoe thought a minute. ‘‘I reckon you got a point there,'' he said.

‘‘Then when it's all done and we've paid you back the thousand, if you still want the land, you can buy it back at a price you think is fair. You set the price.''

The rancher thought again.

‘‘I reckon that's a pretty fair offer all right, though I still got no guarantee I'd ever see the two of you again if I drop the charges?''

‘‘Maybe you wouldn't,'' said Mr. Daniels. ‘‘You're right, you'd have no guarantee. Maybe you'd have to trust us at our word. But you'd have the cash in your hand regardless, which is more than you got now.''

‘‘Yep, I reckon that's right. So what you want me to do?''

‘‘My brother wants to talk to you. He told me to ask you to come see him in town.''

M
AKING
A
MENDS
38

T
HE MAN ROSCOE WALKED DOWN THE CORRIDOR
toward my papa's jail cell, already feeling a lot less angry than earlier because of the visit Katie's uncle Ward had paid him. But he still eyed my papa a little warily as the sheriff opened the cell door.

‘‘Thanks for coming, Roscoe,'' said my papa, standing up and offering his hand.

‘‘Your brother said you wanted to see me, though I was pretty riled at you.''

‘‘You had a right to be.''

‘‘I didn't particularly want to come.''

‘‘I wouldn't have blamed you if you hadn't,'' said my papa. ‘‘Ward tell you what we had in mind?''

‘‘He said something about your buying back the land you took me for. I figured I oughta come see if that's on the level.''

‘‘It's on the level, all right. We'll buy it back.''

‘‘He also said you're broke.''

‘‘Well, that's true,'' sighed my father. ‘‘But I got a family now who loves me enough to put up all they got as a good-faith start on getting you your money. That's my brother and my niece. They figure they can raise about three hundred.''

‘‘Yeah, that's what he said.''

‘‘It's not even half of it, I know. But I'm hoping you'll take my word for the rest. There's no reason you should. My word's not meant anything to you up till now and I know that. So you'll have to make your own decision.''

Roscoe nodded but said nothing.

‘‘I want you to know,'' my papa went on, ‘‘whatever you decide, that I'm sorry for what I did.''

He looked him in the eye.

‘‘I'm giving you my apology and I mean it,'' he said. ‘‘I doubt you can forgive me for it, but I hope someday you can. And I hope you'll see that I mean what I say when I say I want to make it right with you. I did you wrong and I want to make it right, no matter how long it takes.''

Mr. Roscoe took in my papa's short speech thoughtfully. It wasn't like anything he had expected, or had ever heard before either. Hearing a man apologize and say he was sorry and talk about forgiveness and making things right wasn't something he'd encountered too often in his life. The truth was, he'd
never
encountered it!

The jail cell got real quiet.

‘‘All right, then, Daniels,'' said the rancher finally. ‘‘I'll think some on what you said. I reckon you made me about as fair an offer as a man could who's sitting in jail and got no money. So I'll think on it.''

When Katie and Deputy Paxton got back to Ellicott City, after spending another night in Baltimore with Reverend Paxton's family, there had been no change. Her uncle Templeton was still in jail. Her uncle Ward was staying at a boardinghouse in town. They had heard no more from Mr. Roscoe, and the judge had arrived and was supposed to see my papa the next morning and decide what to do.

As soon as Katie heard that, she turned to Mr. Daniels.

‘‘Uncle Ward,'' she said, ‘‘let's go see Mr. Roscoe right away. We've got to talk to him so Uncle Templeton can get out of jail before that judge does something bad.''

‘‘I don't know, Kathleen. It might be too late. The judge is already in town.''

‘‘Then we have to go today . . . right now. Please, Uncle Ward. I want to see Mr. Roscoe.''

Mr. Roscoe wasn't altogether surprised to see Templeton Daniels' brother again, though the sight of the pretty young woman at his side startled him some.

‘‘This is our niece I was telling you about,'' said Mr. Daniels.

‘‘Hello, Mr. Roscoe,'' said Katie. ‘‘I'm Kathleen Clairborne. I came to give you my money so that you'll let my uncle Templeton out of jail.''

Still standing at the door, she took a wad of bills that totaled two hundred and ten dollars from her dress pocket and handed it to him. Beside her, her uncle could hardly keep from showing his astonishment. But before he could say anything, Katie had given the rancher the money.

He took it, seemingly a little reluctantly, shuffled back and forth on his feet, then invited them in.

‘‘Please, Mr. Roscoe,'' said Katie, following him into the house. ‘‘It's all I've got in the world, every dollar. And if we can harvest our cotton, you can have more later this year and the year after that. But I need both my uncles' help to do it. Cotton is a lot of work, and my father and brothers are dead and we don't have any more slaves.''

‘‘Yeah . . . well, Miss Clairborne,'' said the rancher, ‘‘I talked to your uncle yesterday, so I'm thinking things over. To tell you the truth, I didn't get much sleep last night from thinking about it.''

‘‘And like I told you, Mr. Roscoe,'' Katie's uncle Ward now said, ‘‘I think I can scrape together another hundred for you. I'll have to go down to Richmond. Likely take me a few days to get it together. But what I got's yours.''

Roscoe nodded thoughtfully.

‘‘Well, like I told you before, that's a fair offer. I'll think on it some more.''

‘‘But you'll hurry, won't you, Mr. Roscoe?'' said Katie insistently. ‘‘The judge is supposed to see him tomorrow.''

‘‘I'll try, Miss Clairborne,'' he said. ‘‘I'll try.''

‘‘We'll even give you the deed to our house if we have to,'' said Katie. ‘‘Won't we, Uncle Ward?''

‘‘Well, it's something we can talk about anyway,'' said Mr. Daniels, ‘‘if it comes to that. But that'd take more time than Templeton's got.''

As they rode the four miles back to Ellicott City, Katie couldn't understand Mr. Roscoe's hesitation.

‘‘Why did he take my money and not let Uncle Templeton out of jail?'' she asked.

‘‘It ain't all his decision, Kathleen,'' said her uncle Ward. ‘‘That's why there's a sheriff and a judge.''

‘‘But he took my two hundred dollars. He's got to do something.''

‘‘He doesn't have to. As far as he's concerned, Templeton took him for a thousand dollars. He might figure he's entitled to that two hundred but that Templeton still ought to do jail time anyway. And the judge'll likely agree with him.''

‘‘Then I shouldn't have given him my money until he agreed!''

‘‘I was thinking you were a mite hasty, Kathleen. But before I could say anything, there you were shoving your two hundred into Roscoe's hand. That's why I wasn't too anxious to start shoving the deed at him too. We still don't know what he's going to do.''

‘‘Oh, Uncle Ward, then I was stupid!''

‘‘Too late to worry about that now, Kathleen. We'll just have to wait and see what comes of it.''

I
N
F
RONT OF THE
J
UDGE
39

W
HEN THEY GOT BACK TO
E
LLICOTT
C
ITY, THEY
were in for a surprise.

The first they knew about it was when they walked into the sheriff 's office. There sat Deputy Paxton. He jumped out of his chair the instant they walked through the door.

‘‘You two are finally back!'' he said. ‘‘Since there was only one case, the judge moved Mr. Daniels up to today.''

‘‘Today!'' exclaimed Katie.

‘‘They're over in the courthouse right now.''

The three of them rushed from the sheriff 's office. The deputy led the way along the boardwalk, then turned into another street with Katie running along beside him.

‘‘Hurry, Uncle Ward!'' she called behind her. ‘‘We've got to get there before it's too late.''

The deputy led them into a building with a few offices in it, and down a corridor to a large room which was used for a courthouse on the few occasions when one was needed.

He opened the door and they rushed inside, Katie's uncle Ward puffing from the run. There sat the judge in a black robe with my papa standing in front of him.

The judge stopped and looked up.

‘‘What is this?'' he said.

‘‘They're Daniels' kin,'' said the sheriff, ‘‘—brother and niece.''

‘‘All right, then, sit down,'' he said. ‘‘I'll let you stay if you don't make a disturbance.''

There were six or eight chairs in the room and they sat down.

‘‘As I was saying,'' the judge said, ‘‘according to the complaint filed by Mr. Roscoe, you not only falsified legal documents about the parcel of land in question, it says here that you have had a pattern of such behavior, and that this is not the first of such schemes. What do you have to say for yourself?''