Miss Katie's Rosewood (20 page)

S
TRANGER IN A
W
HITE
N
EIGHBORHOOD

33

T
HE SECOND UNEXPECTED VISITOR TO ARRIVE
within two days on the doorstep of the Fairchild home at Bingham Court had attracted more than his share of stares walking through this well-to-do white section of Philadelphia. This wasn't the South, but there were still some things that weren't done. Like single young Negro men walking past nice white people's houses.

But he had come too far to be put off by a few stares. He slowed as he scanned the numbers on the homes, then at last approached Number 37, walked up the steps, lifted the iron knocker, and let it drop.

About twenty seconds later, the door opened.

“Beggin' yo pardon, ma'am,” said the youth, “but unless I's mistaken, you's Miz Fairchild. I seen you when you wuz visitin' at Rosewood, ma'am. I don' know effen you remembers me, but—”

He had no chance to finish. Katie had been listening from inside the open door. With a shriek, she rushed past her aunt and attacked their visitor with the embrace of a bear.

“Jeremiah!” she exclaimed.

Taken as much by surprise as was Katie's aunt Nelda,
Jeremiah nearly stumbled backward down the stairs.

“I can't believe it . . . how did you get here!” said Katie. “Oh, it's so good to see you!”

As liberated as Nelda Fairchild was in the matter of relations between the races, Katie's display was a little much, even for her.

“Aunt Nelda,” Katie said, still unable to curb her excitement, “you remember Jeremiah . . . Jeremiah Patterson—Henry's son. He's like a brother to me. He lives with us at Rosewood.”

“Yes . . . yes, of course,” said Nelda, fumbling for words and unconsciously glancing about to see if any of the neighbors might be watching. “How, uh . . . good to see you again. Won't you, uh . . . please come in.”

“I knows I's takin' a dreadful liberty comin' here like dis, ma'am,” said Jeremiah, following them inside. “But I's been jes' countin' da days,” he added to Katie, “when I knowed da two ob you would git here. I knowed from Mayme's letters. An' I's jes' couldn't wait an extra day ter see her. I had ter come.”

In her enthusiasm, Katie had momentarily forgotten. But now she remembered. Her excitement vanished.

Nelda and Katie glanced at each other. Katie didn't know what to say.

By now they were inside the house and Jeremiah was glancing about. He was wondering where Mayme was!

“An' where is dat girl ob mine!” he said, still beaming broadly.

“I'm afraid there is some bad news, Jeremiah. Mayme's not here.”

“Not here! Why . . . didn't she come?”

“We left together, but something happened on the train . . . we got separated, and when I reached Philadelphia, Mayme wasn't on the train.”

“Well, where is she, den?”

“Jeremiah . . . we don't know. We haven't heard from her. She's missing.”

Jeremiah slumped into a chair, for the moment more disappointed than worried.

“Would you like something to eat?” asked Nelda, slowly recovering her surprise at having a young black man sitting in her parlor.

“Thank you, ma'am,” said Jeremiah, “but I's not so hungry jes' now. Dis ain't good news . . . no dis ain't good news nohow.”

Gradually Katie told him what had happened, about what the stationmaster had said, and about Rob's visit.

“Dere must be somefin' we kin do!” said Jeremiah at length.

“But we don't know where she is. Rob told me to stay here in case she came or sent word. And now I don't even know where Rob is!”

“Den I's stayin' too. Dey kin fire me from dat job effen dey wants, but I ain't leavin' here till we find my Mayme!—Beggin' yo pardon, ma'am,” he said, turning to Katie's aunt. “Does you know someplace dat ain't too far from here, a boardin' house or hotel where dey'd put up a colored man?”

Katie glanced hopefully at her aunt, but wasn't sure what she would say.

“Uh, well . . . there are hotels, in the colored part of the city,” she began. “But that is several miles—it would be a long walk for you. And . . . it seems . . . well, uh, Jeremiah . . . if you would like . . . that is, to stay here with us, I, uh . . . have several extra rooms, and . . . you would be welcome.”

“Dat's right kind er you, ma'am. I'd appreciate it more'n I kin tell you. But that'd be too much. I could stay in yo carriage house. You shore you doesn't mind?”

“Not at all,” said Nelda. She appreciated the young man's tact. She smiled. “After all, I uh . . . I understand that you and Mayme will be married one day.”

“I's hopin' one day not too long from now, ma'am. Dat's why I's up here workin', so's I kin save enuf dat we kin afford ter git married.”

“Well, as I was saying, that almost makes you one of the family, doesn't it?”

“Thank you, ma'am. Dat's real good er you ter say.”

N
EAR
W
OLF'S
C
OVE

34

R
OB RODE HARD
.

He and Heyes had separated about ten miles from the coast, and Rob was now riding as fast as he dared toward Wolf Cove. He only hoped he would not be too late.

There had been no sign of the federal authorities.

Dusk closed in, then night. But he continued on by the light of a partial moon. According to the map, he should be two or three hours from the sea. He should reach it in the early hours of the morning.

Two hours later, on the crest of a small hill about half a mile away, Rob suddenly saw the outline of several riders in the light of the moon. Quickly he reined in and stopped. They were moving in the same direction toward the sea. He must be extremely careful now. He must track them without a sound, without their suspecting he had caught them. But he must also close the ground between them enough to listen, to find out who the ringleaders were. Since he was alone, when he made his move he had to be absolutely sure of himself.

For another hour he tracked them, drawing steadily closer. Besides the half dozen riders, he saw no sign of the captives and heard no sound of wagons. Were they on foot?

Twenty minutes later he realized he had lost them.

He dismounted, tried to get his bearings, then struck out slowly on foot in the last direction where he knew he had seen them. They couldn't be more than two, maybe three hundred yards ahead. They had probably stopped to camp for the rest of the night until the ship arrived.

He crept along inch by inch, listening and smelling to detect any hint of a fire. Yes, there it was! A whiff of smoke . . . faint, but straight ahead of him. They must have made camp.

If only Heyes were here! The two of them could circle around and get the drop on them from opposite sides. It had probably been a mistake to split up, but now, how could he—Suddenly a figure sprang out of the undergrowth to his right.

Before he could react, Rob found himself caught in the clutches of a powerful man, his wrist clamped behind his back with such force that any attempt to escape would break his arm. Another man stepped in front of him, holding a pistol to his chest. A third relieved him of the reins of his mount.

“I think you had better come with us, son,” said the first.

“We've got him,” another called softly into the darkness. “He was following us all right. He seems to be alone.”

Shoving him forward, his arm still wrenched painfully behind his back, Rob found himself walking into a clearing where half a dozen men stood or sat around the small campfire he had just smelled.

Beside one of the men stood a girl. His eyes immediately went to her. In the darkness, he could not be sure, but—She looked up, saw him, and gasped in astonishment. She jumped to her feet and rushed forward.

“Mr. Davidson,” she exclaimed. “I think . . . I'm not completely sure in the dark, but . . . this man looks like Rob Paxton!”

“I
am
Rob Paxton,” said Rob.

“Then what—”

“Is that . . . is that you,
Mayme
?” said Rob.

R
ESCUE

35