"KEEPS"
_Tuesday._
Going to the village on an errand after breakfast, when I reached the
deep mudholes where we always have to walk the fence some distance, I
was delighted to see a gang of men at work on the road, and to recognize
in them Blant and the other prisoners. They were picking the shale from
the mountain side, and shovelling it into the bottomless holes, and all,
save Blant, were hilariously happy to be out in the spring sunshine and
fresh air, and talked gaily with me and other passers-by, the keeper,
who leaned on his rifle, entering amiably into the conversation. He says
that every spring the prisoners are brought out to work on the
roads,--that it does them good, and the county too. I had not seen
Blant for quite a while. It seemed to me that the sadness and sternness
of his face were a little relaxed, and I rejoiced to know that time was
doing something toward making his sorrow for Rich less poignant. I hope
that the news I had Saturday about the babe,--that it is nothing but a
feather, and must soon blow away--has not reached him.
_Wednesday Night._
For two days the boys, especially Nucky, have made every excuse to run
down the road and exchange words with the road-gang, who continue to
work toward us. These frequent glimpses of Blant seem to maintain
Nucky's spirits at the same high pitch manifested Sunday. While I am in
the lowest depths over losing him in three more days, and while it seems
to me his grief over Blant's trial and probable departure for Frankfort
next week, and the almost certain loss of the babe, should hang more
heavily than ever upon him, he is out shouting at marbles, or chasing
the other boys about,--indeed, I never saw him in such spirits.
_Thursday Night._
Nucky brought in word to-day that the mudholes are nearly filled, and
the prisoners are preparing to-morrow to blast out rock and widen the
road at the narrow place where our school-grounds begin.
What was my pained astonishment when, in the afternoon, the heads sent
for me and said, "We have just heard down in the village that this
school is a notorious gambling-place; that the boys do nothing but play
keeps; and that some of yours are the ringleaders."
After supper I called the twelve around the sitting-room table, and laid
the matter before them. "To think," I said, "that you could deceive me
in this way, and play this game for more than six weeks when you have
been told over and over that all gambling is forbidden here! Now, are
you all guilty, or is there by chance one who has had the self-respect
and moral courage not to play?"
All heads hung limp except Geordie's. Both his head and his hand went
up. "I never," he said, "I haint toch my hand to a game of keeps this
whole school."
"Thank heaven," I said, surprised but grateful.
But Taulbee was slowly rising in his chair, eyes glued on Geordie,
finger pointing. "'F you never played no keeps, where'd you git all them
marvles you been a-selling us right along?" he demanded.
"I made 'em," replied Geordie.
"I know you made 'em at first, in that mill we broke up for you under
the stable-lot fence. But you sold all them out the first week,--I seed
you sell the last. Where'd you get t'others you been selling sence? I
bought four sets off of you, and Philip six, and Killis and Keats about
nine apiece, and Jason I reckon a dozen, and all the rest of the boys
and the day-schools has been running to you a month, and sweating to get
money to pay you for marvles. Where'd they come from?"
"Did you ever see me play ary keep this school?" inquired Geordie.
"Don't know as I did; but I seed you hangin' round all the time."
Geordie turned to Philip: "Didn't you see me git beat every time I
played last summer?" he inquired.
"Yes, I did," replied Philip.
"Well, I haint played no more keeps sence. I know I can't play, and I
haint fool enough to throw away good marvles."
Convinced but not satisfied, Taulbee frowned darkly. "Well, dad burn
your looks, where'd you git all them marvles you been selling this
spring," he demanded, "they never growed on trees." The finger was no
longer pointing, it was doubled up in a fist under Geordie's nose.
[Illustration: "'Well, dad burn your looks, where'd you git all them
marvles you been selling?'"]
At last came the hesitating, reluctant answer: "Me'n' Lige Munn and Harl
Drake and Benoni Somers went pardners."
"You put up the marvles and them the fingers?"
"Yes, and they's the best players in school, and allus cleans out
t'other boys; and I'm right smart of a good trader, and git a better
price than they could; so they puts in all their time a-winning, and
turns all the marvles over to me to sell; and then I git the halves on
every marvle."
"And then you set up and tell her you haint played nary keep this
school?"
"I _haint_ never played none," reaffirmed Geordie, in conscious
innocence; "I never toch my hand to nary keep this whole school!"
The whites of Taulbee's eyes were now red; he ground his teeth. "Dad
swinge your ole grave-robber soul, I aim to kill you dead," he shouted,
leaping across the table, and followed by every boy but Absalom in the
direction of the unfortunate Geordie.
It was ten minutes before I, with the assistance of Absalom and a
broomstick, rescued a torn and bleeding victim from the howling,
threshing mass under which he was buried, and sent for the trained
nurse.
I have sat here to-night wondering at the light my acquaintance with
Geordie has shed upon the vexed questions of accumulation of capital,
formation of trusts, cornering of markets, dealings in futures, and,
last but not least, the perfect compatibility of sharp-practice and
law-breaking with sincere piety and philanthropy.
But alas, these are only surface thoughts,--deep in my heart is the
sharp knowledge that to-morrow I must lose Nucky, and that he cares very
little that he must go and leave me.