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Updated: August 16, 2024
It was Red, suddenly genial. The Ralestones could almost feel the radiance of the smile which must have split his face. "Whatta yo' doin' heah?" That was Jeems, and his demand was sharply hostile. "Now, bub, don't get us wrong." That was Red, still genial. "I know my pal sorta flew off his base this mornin'. But it was all in fun, see?
Creighton took up the small painting. "Hm-m," he looked from the ivory to Jeems and then to Val, "this is the final proof. Either one of you might have sat for this. You have the same coloring and features. If it were not for a slight difference of expression you might pass for twins. At any rate, there is no denying that you are both Ralestones."
It was a strange, tense little smile, but it told him that she was not afraid, that she had great faith in him, and knew what the babiche meant. "I can swim, Jeems," she cried. "If we strike the rock." She did not finish because of the sudden cry that came to his lips. He had almost forgotten the most vital of all things. There was not time to unlace his boots.
Kent, unwrapping a last bit of tissue-paper, found in his hands a long tress of hair. "See, Jeems, it has grown fast since I cut it that night." She leaned a little toward him, parting her hair with slim, white fingers so that he saw again where the hair had been clipped the night of Kedsty's death.
De Laney bowed to the young men in the window, who removed their pipes from their mouths and grinned amiably. "This, gentlemen," explained Jeems, without changing his position, "is Mr. Bennie de Laney on both sides. It is extremely fortunate for Mr. de Laney that he is a de Laney on both sides, for otherwise he would be lop-sided."
But what were you after here, Jeems? I'll have to tell him that, too, you know. Was it the Civil War treasure?" Jeems turned his head slowly. "No." Again the puzzled frown twisted his straight, finely marked brows. "What do Ah want wi' treasure? Ah don't know what Ah was lookin' fo'. Mah grandpappy " "Val, supper's ready," came Rupert's voice from the hall. Val half turned to go.
"Ya'as, but, darter, it's all I kin do; 'n' I'm so thankful I kin feel ter knit, fer th' hardest work is ter set wi' folded han's doin' nothin'." "Well, mother, it's but sildom that I ever knowed yer ter set with folded han's," remarked her son, with proud tenderness. "Maybe, Jeems Henry; but I never tuck no consait ter myself fer workin', because I jest nachally loved it.
The husband said that his name was "Jeems," and that his wife was called "Kitty;" that his youngest boy had passed the mature age of eight months, and that the "big girl, Rosy," was "twelve years Christmas comin'." While the troops remained at Langley's, the man was employed at seventy-five cents a week to attend to an officer's horse.
The fire had burned down to a bed of glowing coals when he entered. Again he fell on his knees, and took off his dripping slicker. The girl greeted him from the berth. "You look like a great bear, Jeems." There was a glad, welcoming note in her voice. He laughed, and drew the stool beside her, and managed to sit on it, the roof compelling him to bend his head over a little.
Of the present selection, a story in which a famous Washington character, "Beau Hickman" is introduced, E. C. Stedman said: "It is good enough for Bret Harte or anybody." The Honorable Jeems Bee, of Texas, sitting in his committee-room half an hour before the convening of Congress, waiting for his negro familiar to compound a julep, was suddenly confronted by a small boy on crutches.
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