ACTION
Jean Baptiste went directly to an attorney, a Negro attorney with
offices in the loop district, upon his arrival in Chicago, and did not
lurk around the depots to keep from being seen this time. He was well
acquainted with the one upon whom he called and they greeted each other
cordially when he walked into the office.
"Well, White," he said. "I think I have a little work for you."
"That's what I'm here to look after," said the other aimiably.
"A suit--want to obtain a judgment?"
"We obtain judgments in this old town every day. The question is--"
"Are they worth anything?" laughed his prospective client.
After indulging in a bit of humor the which he was at times given to,
his face cleared, his eye-brows contracted and he related the business
upon which he was bent, and questioned the attorney concerning the law
covering such cases or instances.
"Yes," said the other, after looking it up in the Illinois Statutes, "it
can be done."
"Then we will begin at once," said Baptiste decidedly.
"I'll have the papers drawn up, and have the same ready for service
tomorrow afternoon."
"Very well," said the other, handing him a check for twenty-five
dollars as a retainer, and straightway left the office.
He caught the State Street car and went to visit his friends on Federal
Street. They were delighted and surprised to see him looking so well,
and so carefree.
"Why--what has happened to you," said Mildred's mother, looking him over
carefully from head to foot.
"You infer that I have forgotten my troubles?"
"Of course," and she laughed.
"You'll know in a few days," he returned. Soon he bade them good-by and
went over to the Keystone where he encountered Speed.
* * * * *
"Well, I have everything ready now," said the attorney when Jean called
at his office the following afternoon.
"So the next is to get service on my friend," said Baptiste.
"That's it. Where shall we find him?" inquired the lawyer.
"I don't know. I suppose you might call up his wife on Vernon Avenue and
find out. Of course, she need not know what our business is with her old
man...."
"Of course not."
In a few minutes he was talking to her over the telephone. "The Elder is
in the southern part of the State," Baptiste could hear.
"Yes, madam; but what place.... I see.... He will be there over Sunday
you say?... I understand.... What do I want with him? Why, I have a
little _personal_ matter with him.... Yes ... that is all."
The attorney turned and advised him where the Elder was, and would be
there until after Sunday, and as that day was Wednesday, Baptiste
breathed a sigh of relief.
"That's the town near where I first knew him. I was born within four
miles of it."
"Indeed! Something of a coincidence."
"Indeed so."
"I'll get these papers off to the sheriff down there on the evening
train. He'll get them tomorrow morning, and should get service on him
tomorrow afternoon."
"Then I'll see you about Saturday."
"All right," and Jean was gone.
* * * * *
The little town near where Jean Baptiste was born, and where he had met
the man who was now his acknowledged enemy, had not changed much.
Perched on the banks of the Ohio, it still lingered in a state of dull
lethargy; loafers held to the corners, and arguments were the usual
daily routine. When he had left the town, the Odd Fellows' hall, an old
frame building, three stories high, had stood conspicuously on a corner,
and had been the rendezvous for loafers for years untold. This had been
torn down and replaced since by a more commanding brick structure, at
the front of which a shed spread over the walk and made welcome shade in
the afternoon. And under it on benches the usual crowd gathered reposing
comfortably thereunder from day to day. Under it the preachers sometimes
paused on their return from the postoffice where they received their
mail every afternoon. And it was the afternoon train that brought the
papers for N. Justine McCarthy. The sheriff who happened at the
postoffice at the same time the Elder did, received them, and upon his
return to his office in the court house, laid the mail on his desk and
went at once to serve the papers.
He knew that Odd Fellows' hall was where Negroes might be easily found;
at least the information as to the whereabouts of any particular one
might be obtained. So to that spot he went directly.
It so happened that a large crowd of Negroes were gathered there this
particular afternoon, and that the Reverend had paused there on his way
from the postoffice to listen to the heated argument that was a daily
diversion. At that moment the sheriff came up, listened a moment to the
usual harangue, and then inquired aloud for Rev. N.J. McCarthy. When the
crowd saw who he was the argument desisted forthwith, the crowd became
quiet and respectful, moreover expectant.
"You refer to me?" said the Elder, and wondered what the sheriff could
possibly want with him.
"N.J. McCarthy?" the other repeated.
"That's me," replied the Elder. The crowd looked on with curious
interest.
"Some papers," and handed him the same, turned on his heel and went his
way.
The Reverend went down the street later reading the papers. He had never
had any experience in legal proceedings, and knew little of such, but he
understood the papers and was thoroughly angry.
* * * * *
"Well," greeted the attorney, "got service right off on your friend."
"Good!"
"Yes, got my return, and now we may as well draw up the complaint."
This they did, but in the meantime, while passing downtown, Glavis had
espied Baptiste. Thinking that he was on another mission of trying to
persuade his wife to return, and having been loyal to the Reverend in
his fight on Baptiste, he went at once to advise her of the fact.
Orlean had secured a position in a ladies' tailoring establishment at
five dollars and fifty cents a week, and there he went. She was out so
he did not get to tell her that her husband was in town. Since the
selling of her homestead the entire family had been apprehensive of him.
They appreciated by now that he was not the kind to give up without a
fight, therefore they were on the lookout.
In some way the Negro papers got hold of enough of it to give the Elder
a great deal of free advertising; but since McCarthys did not get the
papers, they knew nothing of it until the next morning which was Sunday.
That morning they espied a copy of the paper in their mail box. They
never knew how it got there, but thinking it was by mistake, Glavis took
it into the house and spread it out.
Pandemonium reigned when they had read the account, and in the same hour
they received a special from the Elder announcing that he was leaving
for Chicago that night. That would place him in the city the following
morning, and they were anxious all that day.
It was the talk of Dark Chicago that day, and for days and weeks
following. Moreover, it circulated over all the state where the Elder
was well known, and gave the gossips great food for delight.
The Elder arrived the next morning, and after being greeted by the
family, with Glavis, went at once to a white attorney. They laid the
case before him.
"And so you are sued for ten thousand dollars," said the attorney, "and
by your son-in-law?"
"It seems that way," replied the Elder. "And to me it looks like a
joke."
"How so?"
"Did you ever know a Negro preacher that was worth such an amount?"
The attorney shared the obvious joke with his prospective client and
Glavis, and then took on a rather serious expression.
"And you are not worth ten thousand?"
"Lord, no!"
The other bit the cigar he held between his teeth, got up and brought a
statute from among his many volumes, glanced through it, and stopped at
a page and read it.
He returned the book to its place and came back and sat down.
"What do you think of it?" inquired the Elder, still seeming to take it
as a joke.
"Have you ever considered the outcome in case he should get a judgment
against you? He accuses you of having alienated the affections of his
wife, your daughter."
"Granting that he secured a judgment?"
"And you could not pay it?"
"Certainly, I could not."
"Then he could remand you to jail for six months by paying your keep."
When the Elder, accompanied by Glavis, returned home, both understood
Jean Baptiste a little better than they had ever before....