The White Hunter Read online

  Startled by the speech of the small man who seemed to pop up before her like magic, Annie Rogers hesitated for a moment. Her cheeks were already tingling from the cold, and she was weary and stiff after her long train ride. She had slept little and was apprehensive about her odyssey from the plains of Wyoming to the teeming city of New York. Annie studied the man’s face and saw that he looked rather lean and hungry. She could also see that he had a good smile, and certainly his manners were polite.

  “Yes, I would,” she said quickly.

  “Well, let me just get your bags, miss. My name’s Pete Frazier. Which suitcases would be yours, now? You’ll have to point them out to me.”

  He moved efficiently while Annie identified her three suitcases as they were placed out on the platform by a smiling black porter. Digging into her reticule, she pulled out a small coin purse and fished out a dollar. “Thank you, Jefferson. You’ve been nice to look after me all the way here.”

  Jefferson’s white teeth flashed against his ebony skin. “Yes, ma’am, Miss Annie. Now you be real careful. Watch yourself in this big city, and God bless you, ma’am.”

  “God bless you, too, Jefferson.”

  Pete Frazier had taken all this in, especially the generous tip, and figured he’d landed an easy target. “I’ll just get these suitcases and we’ll step outside, miss. Come this way.” He shouldered his way through the crowd, saying, “Gangway—step aside there for a lady—what’s the matter with you, Mack? Move it!” When he had bulldozed to the doors and the two stepped outside, he nodded, turning to his right. “This way, miss. Be careful. The street’s getting a little bit icy.”

  Annie followed the cab driver quickly. Looking up, she saw that the skies were gray and gloomy and that snowflakes were beginning to form, some of them almost as large as quarters. She waited until Frazier had put her baggage in the surrey, which had two seats, front and back. It was covered, for which she was grateful, and she accepted his help as he handed her up.

  Quickly he scurried around, plopped down beside her, then turned to say, “Where’ll it be, miss?”

  The question nonplussed Annie. She had assumed that she would have time to think about getting a place to stay, but now that she was here, she had not an idea in the world where to stay. For a moment she wished she had written one of her distant relatives asking them to meet her. God had put it on her heart, however, to make her own way. “If you can’t make your way in New York, how will you make your way across the ocean into the depths of Africa?” she had asked herself sternly. She had steadfastly refused any help, accepted minimum financial aid from her parents, and was convinced that God had told her that He would make a way. She was determined not to depend on the hands of man. The Scripture that came to her so often was, “He that putteth his trust in man shall fall into a snare, but whoso trusteth in the Lord shall be safe.” So she sat still now, praying quietly for guidance, and finally she smiled. It was a pleasant smile that charmed Pete Frazier completely.

  “I don’t know, Mr. Frazier. I’ve come from Wyoming, and I don’t have an idea about where I’ll be staying.”

  “Do you tell me that!” He wiped his mustache with both hands with a fierce gesture, then fluffed it up and said, “I never heard of such a thing. A young woman like you all by yourself in a big city? It’s not a thing that I’d recommend.”

  “God will take care of me. He always has and He always will.”

  Frazier studied the young woman’s face and liked the quiet confidence he saw. From under her cap bright red hair crept out in small curls, and her large blue eyes seemed innocent and at the same time intelligent with some discernment. A few flakes of snow had stuck to the dark, thick lashes, and as she studied him, he suddenly decided to be honest with her as far as the fare was concerned.

  “Well, now,” he said. “There’s lots of boardinghouses, but some of them cost a fortune.”

  “I don’t have a fortune, Mr. Frazier.”

  Frazier smiled and shook his head. “Just plain Pete will do, I reckon, ma’am. Well, I’ve got a friend who runs a boarding-house on the East Side. Mrs. Alice Simmons. Her husband was killed in the war.”

  “The Spanish-American War?”

  “Right. That’s the one. Good friend of mine, he was.”

  “Were you in the war, Pete?”

  “No. No such luck.” Pete shook his head regretfully. “I had to stay here and take care of the family. If I had been a young buck, you can believe I’da been there. Anyway, Mrs. Alice Simmons is a fine lady. Runs a respectable house. Clean it is.” He looked up at the sky thoughtfully and brushed his mustache again. “I might marry her someday.”

  “I thought you had a family.”

  “I lost my dear wife two years ago. It’s hard to raise children by myself, so I been thinking I might give Alice a break and provide her a good husband. What do you think?”

  “I think we’d better go see Mrs. Alice Simmons.”

  “Right you are, and put in a good word for me when she gives you a room.”

  Annie leaned back and filled her eyes with all the new sights of New York as Frazier drove her along, expertly moving the surrey among carriages, wagons, trucks, and automobiles. Her quick eyes studied the deteriorated section of town they drove through. “This looks terrible,” she said quietly. “Are all these buildings full of people?”

  “Right you are, miss,” Frazier said. “Most of the folks in this neighborhood come from across the water. They don’t have any money, so they have to live cheap. All these buildings used to be fancy places, but now they’ve all been cut up into little apartments. And behind them, where their yards were, they built other buildings, so the people in the back don’t have no yard or nothing. Sometimes just an air shaft between buildings. But the place I’m taking you to is much nicer than this.”

  Annie sat quietly listening to the running commentary that Frazier offered, and finally he pulled up in front of a two-story red-brick building. “Here we are, miss. Let me get your suitcase.”

  “But hadn’t we better talk to Mrs. Simmons first?”

  “Oh no. My word’s good for her, and I know she’s got a nice room. Right in the front up there, you see? As a matter of fact,” he grinned, “she’s been after me to find someone to rent it. So I’m glad I found you.”

  “I think the Lord must have sent you. You must be an angel of some kind.”

  Frazier stopped. He had been bending over, reaching to get one of the suitcases, when he turned and raised his eyebrows quizzically. His gray eyes flashed and he shook his head. “I’ve been called lots of things . . . but never an angel. Come along now.”

  The snow was coming down harder now, laying a soft, velvety, pristine covering on the street. It already gave the area a fairylike appearance, for the tops of the buildings were covered with snow. The falling flakes created beautiful forms, even of such things as the lamppost, making it look almost magical. Mounting the steps, Frazier put one of the suitcases down and knocked loudly on the door. It opened almost at once, and a tall, black-haired woman of some thirty years opened the door. She had light blue eyes and was wearing a white apron over a brown dress. “Hello, Pete.”

  “Hello, Alice. I’ve got your new roomer for that nice room right in the front upstairs. I didn’t get your name, miss.”

  “I’m Annie Rogers, Mrs. Simmons.”

  “Well, come in. Pete, don’t let her freeze out there!” Mrs. Simmons scolded.

  When she stepped back, Frazier came in and said, “Shall I take the suitcases right up?”

  “Oh, I’m sure Mrs. Simmons will want to talk to me. Just leave them here, Pete. I’ll take them up myself.”

  “Let him take them up. He does little enough,” Alice Simmons said. “I’ve not got a man handy here,” she stated. “Not that men are ever very handy. Take them up, Pete. Do what I tell you.”

  “You see? She’s already talking to me like we was married. You’re going to have to be sweeter than that if you want to catch me,”
Frazier grinned, picking up the suitcases. “It takes honey to catch flies.”

  “I’m not needing any flies,” Alice retorted. She turned to Annie, saying, “Come on into the kitchen. I’ve got some hot coffee on. I could make tea if you’d like.”

  “That would be nice.”

  The two women moved back through the long corridor that led to the kitchen in the back. The door on the left opened into a large parlor, and as they passed, Mrs. Simmons said, “You can use this anytime you like. And over there’s the dining room. I’ve got eight boarders now. We’ll be having supper in about an hour. You’ll have time to freshen up.”

  Annie was wondering at the ease with which all this had happened, and when she sat down at the kitchen table across from Alice Simmons, she ventured, “I suppose we ought to talk about your rates.”

  “Ten dollars a week, all meals included.”

  “That sounds fair enough.” Reaching into her reticule, Annie pulled out her purse, extracted some bills, and handed them over. “Here’s my first month’s rent, Mrs. Simmons.”

  “Alice will do. Thanks, deary.”

  At that moment Frazier came in and, with the freedom of an old friend, moved over to the wood-burning stove and opened the lid in the warmer on top. “Ahh, I see you made me another apple pie.” Ignoring Alice’s protests, he removed it, cut himself a thick wedge, and held it with his hand. “No sense spoiling a dish,” he said.

  He sat down and Alice poured him a mug of scalding black coffee, and the two talked for a while. Finally he rose up and said regretfully, “Well, I’ve got to go find me a fare.”

  “Oh, how much do I owe you, Pete?” Annie asked.

  Pete Frazier struggled with temptation, for he knew that whatever he said, the young woman would pay it without question. He also was aware of Alice Simmons’ eyes sternly fixed on him, for she knew his habits. Swallowing hard, he said, “Only a dollar.”

  “Oh no, that’s not nearly enough!” Annie said quickly. She pulled a five dollar bill out and smiled. “That’s not just for the ride. That’s for helping with the luggage, and being there with a friendly smile to meet me, and for bringing me to this place. I wish it were a hundred.”

  “Well, if you insist, miss,” Frazier grinned. He tucked the bill into his inside pocket and winked at Alice. “I’ll see you tonight. We’re going to that concert, right?”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  “Right. I haven’t found anybody to keep my kids yet, but I’ll find somebody.”

  “Could I do that, Pete? I’d love to,” Annie offered.

  Pete Frazier exchanged glances with Alice Simmons. Both of them had seen something in the young woman that they liked, and now he said, “They’re a bit of a handful.”

  “I’m used to children. I’ll try to hold my own if it would be of any help to you.”

  “You sure you’re not too tired, dear?” Alice said. “You’ve come a long way.”

  “No. I don’t mind a bit.”

  “All right then,” Alice said. “This poor benighted man needs a little culture, and I intend to see that he gets it.”

  “After you marry me, you can culturize me all you want to,” Frazier grinned. “I’ll see you after supper. How about seven?”

  “Fine. Come along, dear. I’ll take you up to your room. You’ve got time to rest for an hour.”

  Annie followed Alice up the stairs, turned to her left, and stepped inside the door that the landlady held open. When she moved inside, she was delighted. It was large, about twelve by fourteen, and attractive, with its blue and green wallpaper on the walls and worn but well-kept dark green carpet on the floor. There was a large oak four-poster bed covered with a colorful quilt, a small bedside table situated to the left of the bed, and to the right a large armoire of honey-colored oak. The two large floor-length windows at the front of the room were framed with blue, green, and white curtains, and a small pine desk and lamp had been placed to one side, with a dark red easy chair to the other.

  “The bath is right next door. Plenty of linens. Let me know if you need anything. Now, you lie down and take a rest.”

  “Thank you, Alice.”

  As soon as the door closed, Annie went over to the window and looked out. The snow was coming down now so thick that you could hardly see twenty feet away. On the streets below, horses were transformed into frosty phantoms pulling fairy coaches cloaked with white. She had always loved snow, and now as she stood there, she said quietly, “Thank you, Lord, for going before me and preparing my way.” It was a way she had of praying about small things all through the day, and she had found out that waiting at night to catch up was not the best way to keep in touch with God. So now she made it a habit as often as she could to send little prayers up to Him. It was something she had learned from her mother that had stood her in good stead.

  The room was cold, but there was a small hot water radiator, and she turned it on according to Alice’s instructions. Laying her hand on it, she felt it begin to warm as the hot water forced its way through it. She knew it would not keep the room warm, but it would cut off most of the fierce bite of the cold. She was too filled with excitement to sleep, so she put her clothes away in the armoire and arranged her writing materials and books on the small desk beside the window. She washed her face in cold water, which awakened her even more, and finally walked around the room with a sense of well-being. She went back to the window, pulled up a chair, and watched the procession of carriages, buggies, cabs, cars, and trams as they made their way along the street through the blanket of snow. She thought about how she actually was on her way. “It’s a long journey to Africa, Lord,” she said quietly. “But I’ve made my first step. The next step will be up to you.”

  A faint scratching outside her door drew her head around, and she quickly walked across the worn carpet, opened the door, and looked down to see a large, golden-eyed cat with thick, long, silver-gray fur staring up at her.

  Stooping over, Annie picked up the cat, shut the door, and walked over to the chair and sat down. “Where did you come from?” she whispered. She stroked the silky fur, and the cat arched its back in response to the caress. “You’re so warm. If I had a fur coat like that, I wouldn’t mind this winter at all.” She sat there stroking the cat for some time, and finally the animal curled up in her lap and went soundly to sleep. She was still sitting there thirty minutes later when a knock came and the door opened.

  Alice glanced at the young woman holding the cat and said, “Oh, you’ll have to put him out. He’s the world’s biggest pest.”

  “I don’t mind. What’s his name?”

  “His name is Rosie. Named after Teddy Roosevelt. My husband thought the sun rose and set on that man. Now that Rosie’s found someone who will pamper him, he’ll probably take up residence in here.”

  “That’s all right. We’ll get along, won’t we, Rosie?”

  “Come along. Supper’s on the table.”

  Annie followed Alice down to the dining room, where she met her fellow boarders. One of them, a sharp-faced man named Buford Carmody, peppered her with questions throughout the meal, which proved to be good, indeed.

  The others mostly listened, and it appeared that Carmody was the most talkative of the boarders. Quickly he got out of Annie that she was new in New York and that she was determined to be a missionary in Africa.

  A big man named Howard Potter, with black hair and mild brown eyes, sat across from Carmody and laughed aloud. “That’s just what you need, Buford, a preacher! Maybe Reverend Rogers can do something for you.”

  “Why, I’m not a reverend,” Annie protested quickly.

  “I thought you had to be a reverend to be a missionary,” Buford demanded.

  “Not really. At least I hope not,” Annie sighed as she unfolded the white napkin and placed it on her lap.

  “You’ll have to come to our church, dear,” Alice said. “It’s not very far from here. Our pastor, Reverend Aubry Sikes, is very mission minded. He’s always havin
g missionaries come to speak at the church—some of them from Asia and Africa.”

  “I’d like to very much! I’m hoping to go to Africa myself.”

  “You don’t have to go to Africa to preach to the heathen,” Alice Simmons said primly. “Not all the godless pagans are in Africa. Some of them are right here in New York.”

  Howard Potter laughed again and winked at Buford Carmody. “I think we’re being preached at. Do you feel that, Buford?”

  Annie sat quietly for a while and ate the delicious food. Alice had served large cuts of juicy pork, mashed potatoes, corn casserole, green beans, thick slices of fresh bread, and hot apple pie. As Annie ate, she was grateful that she had found a Christian woman whom she felt sure would be her friend. Once again she gave thanks that she had found the exact place God had for her, and then she applied herself to answering the questions that Buford Carmody again determined to toss toward her. She answered as gracefully as she could and finally said, “I’ll be going to church with Mrs. Simmons Sunday morning. Maybe you’d like to go, too.”

  Carmody blinked at the young woman’s directness. “Well, I reckon I might at that.”

  “Well, I’ll be!” Potter jeered, leaning back in his chair. “I can’t believe it!”

  “I’d like to have you go, too, Mr. Potter. I’d feel much better with two escorts such as you and Mr. Carmody. How about it?”

  The others waited and Howard Potter suddenly broke out into a loud laugh. “I’ll be blowed if I won’t do it! Might even make a convert out of the two of us.”

  “I hope so. Everyone needs Jesus,” Annie said. A quietness fell over the table, and both men dropped their eyes. Annie smiled and said no more, but she had learned then that she didn’t have to get to Africa to begin her work for Jesus.