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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:35:05 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:35:05 -0700 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/10735-0.txt b/10735-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5ee7c4d --- /dev/null +++ b/10735-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2216 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10735 *** + +Christmas Eve On Lonesome And Other Stories + +By John Fox, Jr. + +Illustrated By F. C. Yohn, A.I. Keller, W.A. Rogers, and H. C. Ransom + +1911 + + + + + + + + +CONTENTS + + Christmas Eve On Lonesome + + The Army Of The Callahan + + The Pardon Of Becky Day + + A Crisis For The Guard + + Christmas Night With Satan + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + Captain Wells descended with no little majesty and "biffed" him + + "Speak up, nigger!" + + Satan would drop the coin and get a ball for himself + + + + + +TO THOMAS NELSON PAGE + + + + +CHRISTMAS EVE ON LONESOME + + +It was Christmas Eve on Lonesome. But nobody on Lonesome knew that it +was Christmas Eve, although a child of the outer world could have +guessed it, even out in those wilds where Lonesome slipped from one lone +log cabin high up the steeps, down through a stretch of jungled darkness +to another lone cabin at the mouth of the stream. + +There was the holy hush in the gray twilight that comes only on +Christmas Eve. There were the big flakes of snow that fell as they never +fall except on Christmas Eve. There was a snowy man on horseback in a +big coat, and with saddle-pockets that might have been bursting with +toys for children in the little cabin at the head of the stream. + +But not even he knew that it was Christmas Eve. He was thinking of +Christmas Eve, but it was of the Christmas Eve of the year before, when +he sat in prison with a hundred other men in stripes, and listened to +the chaplain talk of peace and good will to all men upon earth, when he +had forgotten all men upon earth but one, and had only hatred in his +heart for him. + +"Vengeance is mine! saith the Lord." + +That was what the chaplain had thundered at him. And then, as now, he +thought of the enemy who had betrayed him to the law, and had sworn away +his liberty, and had robbed him of everything in life except a fierce +longing for the day when he could strike back and strike to kill. And +then, while he looked back hard into the chaplain's eyes, and now, while +he splashed through the yellow mud thinking of that Christmas Eve, Buck +shook his head; and then, as now, his sullen heart answered: + +"Mine!" + +The big flakes drifted to crotch and twig and limb. They gathered on the +brim of Buck's slouch hat, filled out the wrinkles in his big coat, +whitened his hair and his long mustache, and sifted into the yellow, +twisting path that guided his horse's feet. + +High above he could see through the whirling snow now and then the gleam +of a red star. He knew it was the light from his enemy's window; but +somehow the chaplain's voice kept ringing in his ears, and every time he +saw the light he couldn't help thinking of the story of the Star that +the chaplain told that Christmas Eve, and he dropped his eyes by and by, +so as not to see it again, and rode on until the light shone in his +face. + +Then he led his horse up a little ravine and hitched it among the snowy +holly and rhododendrons, and slipped toward the light. There was a dog +somewhere, of course; and like a thief he climbed over the low +rail-fence and stole through the tall snow-wet grass until he leaned +against an apple-tree with the sill of the window two feet above the +level of his eyes. + +Reaching above him, he caught a stout limb and dragged himself up to a +crotch of the tree. A mass of snow slipped softly to the earth. The +branch creaked above the light wind; around the corner of the house a +dog growled and he sat still. + +He had waited three long years and he had ridden two hard nights and +lain out two cold days in the woods for this. + +And presently he reached out very carefully, and noiselessly broke leaf +and branch and twig until a passage was cleared for his eye and for the +point of the pistol that was gripped in his right hand. + +A woman was just disappearing through the kitchen door, and he peered +cautiously and saw nothing but darting shadows. From one corner a shadow +loomed suddenly out in human shape. Buck saw the shadowed gesture of an +arm, and he cocked his pistol. That shadow was his man, and in a moment +he would be in a chair in the chimney corner to smoke his pipe, +maybe--his last pipe. + +Buck smiled--pure hatred made him smile--but it was mean, a mean and +sorry thing to shoot this man in the back, dog though he was; and now +that the moment had come a wave of sickening shame ran through Buck. No +one of his name had ever done that before; but this man and his people +had, and with their own lips they had framed palliation for him. What +was fair for one was fair for the other they always said. A poor man +couldn't fight money in the courts; and so they had shot from the brush, +and that was why they were rich now and Buck was poor--why his enemy was +safe at home, and he was out here, homeless, in the apple-tree. + +Buck thought of all this, but it was no use. The shadow slouched +suddenly and disappeared; and Buck was glad. With a gritting oath +between his chattering teeth he pulled his pistol in and thrust one leg +down to swing from the tree--he would meet him face to face next day and +kill him like a man--and there he hung as rigid as though the cold had +suddenly turned him, blood, bones, and marrow, into ice. + +The door had opened, and full in the firelight stood the girl who he had +heard was dead. He knew now how and why that word was sent him. And now +she who had been his sweetheart stood before him--the wife of the man he +meant to kill. + +Her lips moved--he thought he could tell what she said: "Git up, Jim, +git up!" Then she went back. + +A flame flared up within him now that must have come straight from the +devil's forge. Again the shadows played over the ceiling. His teeth +grated as he cocked his pistol, and pointed it down the beam of light +that shot into the heart of the apple-tree, and waited. + +The shadow of a head shot along the rafters and over the fireplace. It +was a madman clutching the butt of the pistol now, and as his eye caught +the glinting sight and his heart thumped, there stepped into the square +light of the window--a child! + +It was a boy with yellow tumbled hair, and he had a puppy in his arms. +In front of the fire the little fellow dropped the dog, and they began +to play. + +"Yap! yap! yap!" + +Buck could hear the shrill barking of the fat little dog, and the joyous +shrieks of the child as he made his playfellow chase his tail round and +round or tumbled him head over heels on the floor. It was the first +child Buck had seen for three years; it was _his_ child and _hers_; +and, in the apple-tree, Buck watched fixedly. + +They were down on the floor now, rolling over and over together; and he +watched them until the child grew tired and turned his face to the fire +and lay still--looking into it. Buck could see his eyes close presently, +and then the puppy crept closer, put his head on his playmate's chest, +and the two lay thus asleep. + +And still Buck looked--his clasp loosening on his pistol and his lips +loosening under his stiff mustache--and kept looking until the door +opened again and the woman crossed the floor. A flood of light flashed +suddenly on the snow, barely touching the snow-hung tips of the +apple-tree, and he saw her in the doorway--saw her look anxiously into +the darkness--look and listen a long while. + +Buck dropped noiselessly to the snow when she closed the door. He +wondered what they would think when they saw his tracks in the snow next +morning; and then he realized that they would be covered before morning. + +As he started up the ravine where his horse was he heard the clink of +metal down the road and the splash of a horse's hoofs in the soft mud, +and he sank down behind a holly-bush. + +Again the light from the cabin flashed out on the snow. + +"That you, Jim?" + +"Yep!" + +And then the child's voice: "Has oo dot thum tandy?" + +"Yep!" + +The cheery answer rang out almost at Buck's ear, and Jim passed death +waiting for him behind the bush which his left foot brushed, shaking the +snow from the red berries down on the crouching figure beneath. + +Once only, far down the dark jungled way, with the underlying streak of +yellow that was leading him whither, God only knew--once only Buck +looked back. There was the red light gleaming faintly through the +moonlit flakes of snow. Once more he thought of the Star, and once more +the chaplain's voice came back to him. + +"Mine!" saith the Lord. + +Just how, Buck could not see with himself in the snow and _him_ back +there for life with her and the child, but some strange impulse made him +bare his head. + +"Yourn," said Buck grimly. + +But nobody on Lonesome--not even Buck--knew that it was Christmas Eve. + + + + +THE ARMY OF THE CALLAHAN + + +I + +The dreaded message had come. The lank messenger, who had brought it +from over Black Mountain, dropped into a chair by the stove and sank his +teeth into a great hunk of yellow cheese. "Flitter Bill" Richmond +waddled from behind his counter, and out on the little platform in front +of his cross-roads store. Out there was a group of earth-stained +countrymen, lounging against the rickety fence or swinging on it, their +heels clear of the ground, all whittling, chewing, and talking the +matter over. All looked up at Bill, and he looked down at them, running +his eye keenly from one to another until he came to one powerful young +fellow loosely bent over a wagon-tongue. Even on him, Bill's eyes stayed +but a moment, and then were lifted higher in anxious thought. + +The message had come at last, and the man who brought it had heard it +fall from Black Tom's own lips. The "wild Jay-Hawkers of Kaintuck" were +coming over into Virginia to get Flitter Bill's store, for they were +mountain Unionists and Bill was a valley rebel and lawful prey. It was +past belief. So long had he prospered, and so well, that Bill had come +to feel that he sat safe in the hollow of God's hand. But he now must +have protection--and at once--from the hand of man. + +Roaring Fork sang lustily through the rhododendrons. To the north yawned +"the Gap" through the Cumberland Mountains. "Callahan's Nose," a huge +gray rock, showed plain in the clear air, high above the young foliage, +and under it, and on up the rocky chasm, flashed Flitter Bill's keen +mind, reaching out for help. + +Now, from Virginia to Alabama the Southern mountaineer was a Yankee, +because the national spirit of 1776, getting fresh impetus in 1812 and +new life from the Mexican War, had never died out in the hills. Most +likely it would never have died out, anyway; for, the world over, any +seed of character, individual or national, that is once dropped between +lofty summits brings forth its kind, with deathless tenacity, year after +year. Only, in the Kentucky mountains, there were more slaveholders than +elsewhere in the mountains in the South. These, naturally, fought for +their slaves, and the division thus made the war personal and terrible +between the slaveholders who dared to stay at home, and the Union, +"Home Guards" who organized to drive them away. In Bill's little +Virginia valley, of course, most of the sturdy farmers had shouldered +Confederate muskets and gone to the war. Those who had stayed at home +were, like Bill, Confederate in sympathy, but they lived in safety down +the valley, while Bill traded and fattened just opposite the Gap, +through which a wild road ran over into the wild Kentucky hills. Therein +Bill's danger lay; for, just at this time, the Harlan Home Guard under +Black Tom, having cleared those hills, were making ready, like the Pict +and Scot of olden days, to descend on the Virginia valley and smite the +lowland rebels at the mouth of the Gap. Of the "stay-at-homes," and the +deserters roundabout, there were many, very many, who would "stand in" +with any man who would keep their bellies full, but they were well-nigh +worthless even with a leader, and, without a leader, of no good at all. +Flitter Bill must find a leader for them, and anywhere than in his own +fat self, for a leader of men Bill was not born to be, nor could he see +a leader among the men before him. And so, standing there one early +morning in the spring of 1865, with uplifted gaze, it was no surprise to +him--the coincidence, indeed, became at once one of the articles of +perfect faith in his own star--that he should see afar off, a black +slouch hat and a jogging gray horse rise above a little knoll that was +in line with the mouth of the Gap. At once he crossed his hands over his +chubby stomach with a pious sigh, and at once a plan of action began to +whirl in his little round head. Before man and beast were in full view +the work was done, the hands were unclasped, and Flitter Bill, with a +chuckle, had slowly risen, and was waddling back to his desk in the +store. + +It was a pompous old buck who was bearing down on the old gray horse, +and under the slouch hat with its flapping brim--one Mayhall Wells, by +name. There were but few strands of gray in his thick blue-black hair, +though his years were rounding half a century, and he sat the old nag +with erect dignity and perfect ease. His bearded mouth showed vanity +immeasurable, and suggested a strength of will that his eyes--the real +seat of power--denied, for, while shrewd and keen, they were unsteady. +In reality, he was a great coward, though strong as an ox, and whipping +with ease every man who could force him into a fight. So that, in the +whole man, a sensitive observer would have felt a peculiar pathos, as +though nature had given him a desire to be, and no power to become, and +had then sent him on his zigzag way, never to dream wherein his trouble +lay. + +"Mornin', gentle_men_!" + +"Mornin', Mayhall!" + +All nodded and spoke except Hence Sturgill on the wagon-tongue, who +stopped whittling, and merely looked at the big man with narrowing eyes. + +Tallow Dick, a yellow slave, appeared at the corner of the store, and +the old buck beckoned him to come and hitch his horse. Flitter Bill had +reappeared on the stoop with a piece of white paper in his hand. The +lank messenger sagged in the doorway behind him, ready to start for +home. + +"Mornin' _Captain_ Wells," said Bill, with great respect. Every man +heard the title, stopped his tongue and his knife-blade, and raised his +eyes; a few smiled--Hence Sturgill grinned. Mayhall stared, and Bill's +left eye closed and opened with lightning quickness in a most portentous +wink. Mayhall straightened his shoulders--seeing the game, as did the +crowd at once: Flitter Bill was impressing that messenger in case he had +some dangerous card up his sleeve. + +"_Captain_ Wells," Bill repeated significantly, "I'm sorry to say yo' +new uniform has not arrived yet. I am expecting it to-morrow." Mayhall +toed the line with soldierly promptness. + +"Well, I'm sorry to hear that, suh--sorry to hear it, suh," he said, +with slow, measured speech. "My men are comin' in fast, and you can +hardly realize er--er what it means to an old soldier er--er not to +have--er--" And Mayhall's answering wink was portentous. + +"My friend here is from over in Kaintucky, and the Harlan Home Gyard +over there, he says, is a-making some threats." + +Mayhall laughed. + +"So I have heerd--so I have heerd." He turned to the messenger. "We +shall be ready fer 'em, suh, ready fer 'em with a thousand men--one +thousand men, suh, right hyeh in the Gap--right hyeh in the Gap. Let 'em +come on--let 'em come on!" Mayhall began to rub his hands together as +though the conflict were close at hand, and the mountaineer slapped one +thigh heartily. "Good for you! Give 'em hell!" He was about to slap +Mayhall on the shoulder and call him "pardner," when Flitter Bill +coughed, and Mayhall lifted his chin. + +"Captain Wells?" said Bill. + +"Captain Wells," repeated Mayhall with a stiff salutation, and the +messenger from over Black Mountain fell back with an apologetic laugh. A +few minutes later both Mayhall and Flitter Bill saw him shaking his +head, as he started homeward toward the Gap. Bill laughed silently, but +Mayhall had grown grave. The fun was over and he beckoned Bill inside +the store. + +"Misto Richmond," he said, with hesitancy and an entire change of tone +and manner, "I am afeerd I ain't goin' to be able to pay you that little +amount I owe you, but if you can give me a little mo' time--" + +"Captain Wells," interrupted Bill slowly, and again Mayhall stared hard +at him, "as betwixt friends, as have been pussonal friends fer nigh onto +twenty year, I hope you won't mention that little matter to me +ag'in--until I mentions it to you." + +"But, Misto Richmond, Hence Sturgill out thar says as how he heerd you +say that if I didn't pay--" + +"_Captain_ Wells," interrupted Bill again and again Mayhall stared +hard--it was strange that Bill could have formed the habit of calling +him "Captain" in so short a time--"yestiddy is not to-day, is it? And +to-day is not to-morrow? I axe you--have I said one word about that +little matter _to-day?_ Well, borrow not from yestiddy nor to-morrow, to +make trouble fer to-day. There is other things fer to-day, Captain +Wells." + +Mayhall turned here. + +"Misto Richmond," he said, with great earnestness, "you may not know it, +but three times since thet long-legged jay-hawker's been gone you hev +plainly--and if my ears do not deceive me, an' they never hev--you have +plainly called me '_Captain_ Wells.' I knowed yo' little trick whilst he +was hyeh, fer I knowed whut the feller had come to tell ye; but since +he's been gone, three times, Misto Richmond--" + +"Yes," drawled Bill, with an unction that was strangely sweet to +Mayhall's wondering ears, "an' I do it ag'in, _Captain_ Wells." + +"An' may I axe you," said Mayhall, ruffling a little, "may I axe +you--why you--" + +"Certainly," said Bill, and he handed over the paper that he held in his +hand. + +Mayhall took the paper and looked it up and down helplessly--Flitter +Bill slyly watching him. + +Mayhall handed it back. "If you please, Misto Richmond--I left my specs +at home." Without a smile, Bill began. It was an order from the +commandant at Cumberland Gap, sixty miles farther down Powell's Valley, +authorizing Mayhall Wells to form a company to guard the Gap and to +protect the property of Confederate citizens in the valley; and a +commission of captaincy in the said company for the said Mayhall Wells. +Mayhall's mouth widened to the full stretch of his lean jaws, and, when +Bill was through reading, he silently reached for the paper and looked +it up and down and over and over, muttering: + +"Well--well--well!" And then he pointed silently to the name that was at +the bottom of the paper. + +Bill spelled out the name: + +"_Jefferson Davis_" and Mayhall's big fingers trembled as he pulled them +away, as though to avoid further desecration of that sacred name. + +Then he rose, and a magical transformation began that can be likened--I +speak with reverence--to the turning of water into wine. Captain Mayhall +Wells raised his head, set his chin well in, and kept it there. He +straightened his shoulders, and kept them straight. He paced the floor +with a tread that was martial, and once he stopped before the door with +his right hand thrust under his breast-pocket, and with wrinkling brow +studied the hills. It was a new man--with the water in his blood changed +to wine--who turned suddenly on Flitter Bill Richmond: + +"I can collect a vehy large force in a vehy few days." Flitter Bill knew +that--that he could get together every loafer between the county-seat of +Wise and the county-seat of Lee--but he only said encouragingly: + +"Good!" + +"An' we air to pertect the property--_I_ am to pertect the property of +the Confederate citizens of the valley--that means _you_, Misto +Richmond, and _this store_." + +Bill nodded. + +Mayhall coughed slightly. "There is one thing in the way, I opine. +Whar--I axe you--air we to git somethin' to eat fer my command?" Bill +had anticipated this. + +"I'll take keer o' that." + +Captain Wells rubbed his hands. + +"Of co'se, of co'se--you are a soldier and a patriot--you can afford to +feed 'em as a slight return fer the pertection I shall give you and +yourn." + +"Certainly," agreed Bill dryly, and with a prophetic stir of uneasiness. + +"Vehy--vehy well. I shall begin _now_, Misto Richmond." And, to Flitter +Bill's wonder, the captain stalked out to the stoop, announced his +purpose with the voice of an auctioneer, and called for volunteers then +and there. There was dead silence for a moment. Then there was a smile +here, a chuckle there, an incredulous laugh, and Hence Sturgill, "bully +of the Pocket," rose from the wagon-tongue, closed his knife, came +slowly forward, and cackled his scorn straight up into the teeth of +Captain Mayhall Wells. The captain looked down and began to shed his +coat. + +"I take it, Hence Sturgill, that you air laughin' at me?" + +"I am a-laughin' at _you_, Mayhall Wells," he said, contemptuously, but +he was surprised at the look on the good-natured giant's face. + +"_Captain_ Mayhall Wells, ef you please." + +"Plain ole Mayhall Wells," said Hence, and Captain Wells descended with +no little majesty and "biffed" him. + +The delighted crowd rose to its feet and gathered around. Tallow Dick +came running from the barn. It was biff--biff, and biff again, but not +nip and tuck for long. Captain Mayhall closed in. Hence Sturgill struck +the earth like a Homeric pine, and the captain's mighty arm played above +him and fell, resounding. In three minutes Hence, to the amazement of +the crowd, roared: + +"'Nough!" + +But Mayhall breathed hard and said quietly: + +"_Captain_ Wells!": + +Hence shouted, "Plain ole--" But the captain's huge fist was poised in +the air over his face. + +"Captain Wells," he growled, and the captain rose and calmly put on his +coat, while the crowd looked respectful, and Hence Sturgill staggered to +one side, as though beaten in spirit, strength, and wits as well. The +captain beckoned Flitter Bill inside the store. His manner had a +distinct savor of patronage. + +[Illustration: Captain Wells descended with no little majesty and +"biffed" him.] + +"Misto Richmond," he said, "I make you--I appoint you, by the authority +of Jefferson Davis and the Confederate States of Ameriky, as +commissary-gineral of the Army of the Callahan." + +"As _what_?" Bill's eyes blinked at the astounding dignity of his +commission. + +"Gineral Richmond, I shall not repeat them words." And he didn't, but +rose and made his way toward his old gray mare. Tallow Dick held his +bridle. + +"Dick," he said jocosely, "goin' to run away ag'in?" The negro almost +paled, and then, with a look at a blacksnake whip that hung on the barn +door, grinned. + +"No, suh--no, suh--'deed I ain't, suh--no mo'." + +Mounted, the captain dropped a three-cent silver piece in the startled +negro's hand. Then he vouchsafed the wondering Flitter Bill and the +gaping crowd a military salute and started for the yawning mouth of the +Gap--riding with shoulders squared and chin well in--riding as should +ride the commander of the Army of the Callahan. + +Flitter Bill dropped his blinking eyes to the paper in his hand that +bore the commission of Jefferson Davis and the Confederate States of +America to Mayhall Wells of Callahan, and went back into his store. He +looked at it a long time and then he laughed, but without much mirth. + + + +II + +Grass had little chance to grow for three weeks thereafter under the +cowhide boots of Captain Mayhall Wells. When the twentieth morning came +over the hills, the mist parted over the Stars and Bars floating from +the top of a tall poplar up through the Gap and flaunting brave defiance +to Black Tom, his Harlan Home Guard, and all other jay-hawking Unionists +of the Kentucky hills. It parted over the Army of the Callahan asleep on +its arms in the mouth of the chasm, over Flitter Bill sitting, sullen +and dejected, on the stoop of his store; and over Tallow Dick stealing +corn bread from the kitchen to make ready for flight that night through +the Gap, the mountains, and to the yellow river that was the Mecca of +the runaway slave. + +At the mouth of the Gap a ragged private stood before a ragged tent, +raised a long dinner horn to his lips, and a mighty blast rang through +the hills, reveille! And out poured the Army of the Callahan from shack, +rock-cave, and coverts of sticks and leaves, with squirrel rifles, +Revolutionary muskets, shotguns, clasp-knives, and horse pistols for +the duties of the day under Lieutenant Skaggs, tactician, and Lieutenant +Boggs, quondam terror of Roaring Fork. + +That blast rang down the valley into Flitter Bill's ears and startled +him into action. It brought Tallow Dick's head out of the barn door and +made him grin. + +"Dick!" Flitter Bill's call was sharp and angry. + +"Yes, suh!" + +"Go tell ole Mayhall Wells that I ain't goin' to send him nary another +pound o' bacon an' nary another tin cup o' meal--no, by ----, I ain't." + +Half an hour later the negro stood before the ragged tent of the +commander of the Army of the Callahan. + +"Marse Bill say he ain't gwine to sen' you no mo' rations--no mo'." + +"_What_!" + +Tallow Dick repeated his message and the captain scowled--mutiny! + +"Fetch my hoss!" he thundered. + +Very naturally and very swiftly had the trouble come, for straight after +the captain's fight with Hence Sturgill there had been a mighty rally to +the standard of Mayhall Wells. From Pigeon's Creek the loafers +came--from Roaring Fork, Cracker's Neck, from the Pocket down the +valley, and from Turkey Cove. Recruits came so fast, and to such +proportions grew the Army of the Callahan, that Flitter Bill shrewdly +suggested at once that Captain Wells divide it into three companies and +put one up Pigeon's Creek under Lieutenant Jim Skaggs and one on +Callahan under Lieutenant Tom Boggs, while the captain, with a third, +should guard the mouth of the Gap. Bill's idea was to share with those +districts the honor of his commissary-generalship; but Captain Wells +crushed the plan like a dried puffball. + +"Yes," he said, with fine sarcasm. "What will them Kanetuckians do then? +Don't you know, Gineral Richmond? Why, I'll tell you what they'll do. +They'll jest swoop down on Lieutenant Boggs and gobble him up. Then +they'll swoop down on Lieutenant Skaggs on Pigeon and gobble him up. +Then they'll swoop down on me and gobble me up. No, they won't gobble +_me_ up, but they'll come damn nigh it. An' what kind of a report will I +make to Jeff Davis, Gineral Richmond? _Captured In detail_, suh? No, +suh. I'll jest keep Lieutenant Boggs and Lieutenant Skaggs close by me, +and we'll pitch our camp right here in the Gap whar we can pertect the +property of Confederate citizens and be close to our base o' supplies, +suh. That's what I'll do!" + +"Gineral Richmond" groaned, and when in the next breath the mighty +captain casually inquired if _that uniform of his_ had come yet, Flitter +Bill's fat body nearly rolled off his chair. + +"You will please have it here next Monday," said the captain, with great +firmness. "It is necessary to the proper discipline of my troops." And +it was there the following Monday--a regimental coat, gray jeans +trousers, and a forage cap that Bill purchased from a passing Morgan +raider. Daily orders would come from Captain Wells to General Flitter +Bill Richmond to send up more rations, and Bill groaned afresh when a +man from Callahan told how the captain's family was sprucing up on meal +and flour and bacon from the captain's camp. Humiliation followed. It +had never occurred to Captain Wells that being a captain made it +incongruous for him to have a "general" under him, until Lieutenant +Skaggs, who had picked up a manual of tactics somewhere, cautiously +communicated his discovery. Captain Wells saw the point at once. There +was but one thing to do--to reduce General Richmond to the ranks--and it +was done. Technically, thereafter, the general was purveyor for the Army +of the Callahan, but to the captain himself he was--gallingly to the +purveyor--simple Flitter Bill. + +The strange thing was that, contrary to his usual shrewdness, it should +have taken Flitter Bill so long to see that the difference between +having his store robbed by the Kentucky jay-hawkers and looted by +Captain Wells was the difference between tweedle-dum and tweedle-dee, +but, when he did see, he forged a plan of relief at once. When the +captain sent down Lieutenant Boggs for a supply of rations, Bill sent +the saltiest, rankest bacon he could find, with a message that he wanted +to see the great man. As before, when Captain Wells rode down to the +store, Bill handed out a piece of paper, and, as before, the captain had +left his "specs" at home. The paper was an order that, whereas the +distinguished services of Captain Wells to the Confederacy were +appreciated by Jefferson Davis, the said Captain Wells was, and is, +hereby empowered to duly, and in accordance with the tactics of war, +impress what live-stock he shall see fit and determine fit for the good +of his command. The news was joy to the Army of the Callahan. Before it +had gone the rounds of the camp Lieutenant Boggs had spied a fat heifer +browsing on the edge of the woods and ordered her surrounded and driven +down. Without another word, when she was close enough, he raised his +gun and would have shot her dead in her tracks had he not been arrested +by a yell of command and horror from his superior. + +"Air you a-goin' to have me cashiered and shot, Lieutenant Boggs, fer +violatin' the ticktacks of war?" roared the captain, indignantly. "Don't +you know that I've got to _impress_ that heifer accordin' to the rules +an' regulations? Git roun' that heifer." The men surrounded her. "Take +her by the horns. Now! In the name of Jefferson Davis and the +Confederate States of Ameriky, I hereby and hereon do duly impress this +heifer for the purposes and use of the Army of the Callahan, so help me +God! Shoot her down, Bill Boggs, shoot her down!" + +Now, naturally, the soldiers preferred fresh meat, and they got +it--impressing cattle, sheep, and hogs, geese, chickens, and ducks, +vegetables--nothing escaped the capacious maw of the Army of the +Callahan. It was a beautiful idea, and the success of it pleased Flitter +Bill mightily, but the relief did not last long. An indignant murmur +rose up and down valley and creek bottom against the outrages, and one +angry old farmer took a pot-shot at Captain Wells with a squirrel rifle, +clipping the visor of his forage cap; and from that day the captain +began to call with immutable regularity again on Flitter Bill for bacon +and meal. That morning the last straw fell in a demand for a wagon-load +of rations to be delivered before noon, and, worn to the edge of his +patience, Bill had sent a reckless refusal. And now he was waiting on +the stoop of his store, looking at the mouth of the Gap and waiting for +it to give out into the valley Captain Wells and his old gray mare. And +at last, late in the afternoon, there was the captain coming--coming at +a swift gallop--and Bill steeled himself for the onslaught like a knight +in a joust against a charging antagonist. The captain saluted +stiffly--pulling up sharply and making no move to dismount. + +"Purveyor," he said, "Black Tom has just sent word that he's a-comin' +over hyeh this week--have you heerd that, purveyor?" Bill was silent. + +"Black Tom says you _air_ responsible for the Army of the Callahan. Have +you heerd that, purveyor?" Still was there silence. + +"He says he's a-goin' to hang me to that poplar whar floats them Stars +and Bars"--Captain Mayhall Wells chuckled--"an' he says he's a-goin' to +hang _you_ thar fust, though; have you heerd _that_, purveyor?" + +The captain dropped the titular address now, and threw one leg over the +pommel of his saddle. + +"Flitter Bill Richmond," he said, with great nonchalance, "I axe you--do +you prefer that I should disband the Army of the Callahan, or do you +not?" + +"No." + +The captain was silent a full minute, and his face grew stern. "Flitter +Bill Richmond, I had no idee o' disbandin' the Army of the Callahan, but +do you know what I did aim to do?" Again Bill was silent. + +"Well, suh, I'll tell you whut I aim to do. If you don't send them +rations I'll have you cashiered for mutiny, an' if Black Tom don't hang +you to that air poplar, I'll hang you thar myself, suh; yes, by ----! I +will. Dick!" he called sharply to the slave. "Hitch up that air wagon, +fill hit full o' bacon and meal, and drive it up thar to my tent. An' be +mighty damn quick about it, or I'll hang you, too." + +The negro gave a swift glance to his master, and Flitter Bill feebly +waved acquiescence. + +"Purveyor, I wish you good-day." + +Bill gazed after the great captain in dazed wonder (was this the man who +had come cringing to him only a few short weeks ago?) and groaned aloud. + +But for lucky or unlucky coincidence, how could the prophet ever have +gained name and fame on earth? + +Captain Wells rode back to camp chuckling--chuckling with satisfaction +and pride; but the chuckle passed when he caught sight of his tent. In +front of it were his lieutenants and some half a dozen privates, all +plainly in great agitation, and in the midst of them stood the lank +messenger who had brought the first message from Black Tom, delivering +another from the same source. Black Tom _was_ coming, coming surer and +unless that flag, that "Rebel rag," were hauled down under twenty-four +hours, Black Tom would come over and pull it down, and to that same +poplar hang "Captain Mayhall an' his whole damn army." Black Tom might +do it anyhow--just for fun. + +While the privates listened the captain strutted and swore; then he +rested his hand on his hip and smiled with silent sarcasm, and then +swore again--while the respectful lieutenants and the awed soldiery of +the Callahan looked on. Finally he spoke. + +"Ah--when did Black Tom say that?" he inquired casually. + +"Yestiddy mornin'. He said he was goin' to start over hyeh early this +mornin'." The captain whirled. + +"What? Then why didn't you git over hyeh _this_ mornin'?" + +"Couldn't git across the river last night." + +"Then he's a-comin' to-day?" + +"I reckon Black Tom'll be hyeh in about two hours--mebbe he ain't fer +away now." The captain was startled. + +"Lieutenant Skaggs," he called, sharply, "git yo' men out thar an' draw +'em up in two rows!" + +The face of the student of military tactics looked horrified. The +captain in his excitement had relaxed into language that was distinctly +agricultural, and, catching the look on his subordinate's face, and at +the same time the reason for it, he roared, indignantly: + +"Air you afeer'd, sir? Git yo' men out, I said, an' march 'em up thar in +front of the Gap. Lieutenant Boggs, take ten men and march at double +quick through the Gap, an' defend that poplar with yo' life's blood. If +you air overwhelmed by superior numbers, fall back, suh, step by step, +until you air re-enforced by Lieutenant Skaggs. If you two air not able +to hold the enemy in check, you may count on me an' the Army of the +Callahan to grind _him_--" (How the captain, now thoroughly aroused to +all the fine terms of war, did roll that technical "him" under his +tongue)--"to grind him to pieces ag'in them towerin' rocks, and plunge +him in the foilin' waters of Roarin' Fawk. Forward, suh--double quick." +Lieutenant Skaggs touched his cap. Lieutenant Boggs looked embarrassed +and strode nearer. + +"Captain, whar am I goin' to git ten men to face them Kanetuckians?" + +"Whar air they goin' to git a off'cer to lead 'em, you'd better say," +said the captain, severely, fearing that some of the soldiers had heard +the question. "If you air afeer'd, suh"--and then he saw that no one had +heard, and he winked--winked with most unmilitary familiarity. + +"Air you a good climber, Lieutenant Boggs?" Lieutenant Boggs looked +mystified, but he said he was. + +"Lieutenant Boggs, I now give you the opportunity to show yo' profound +knowledge of the ticktacks of war. You may now be guilty of disobedience +of ordahs, and I will not have you court-martialled for the same. In +other words, if, after a survey of the situation, you think best--why," +the captain's voice dropped to a hoarse whisper, "pull that flag down, +lieutenant Boggs, pull her down." + + + +III + +It was an hour by sun now. Lieutenant Boggs and his devoted band of ten +were making their way slowly and watchfully up the mighty chasm--the +lieutenant with his hand on his sword and his head bare, and bowed in +thought. The Kentuckians were on their way--at that moment they might be +riding full speed toward the mouth of Pigeon, where floated the flag. +They might gobble him and his command up when they emerged from the Gap. +Suppose they caught him up that tree. His command might escape, but _he_ +would be up there, saving them the trouble of stringing him up. All they +would have to do would be to send up after him a man with a rope, and +let him drop. That was enough. Lieutenant Boggs called a halt and +explained the real purpose of the expedition. + +"We will wait here till dark," he said, "so them Kanetuckians can't +ketch us, whilst we are climbing that tree." + +And so they waited opposite Bee Rock, which was making ready to blossom +with purple rhododendrons. And the reserve back in the Gap, under +Lieutenant Skaggs, waited. Waited, too, the Army of the Callahan at the +mouth of the Gap, and waited restlessly Captain Wells at the door of his +tent, and Flitter Bill on the stoop of his store--waited everybody but +Tallow Dick, who, in the general confusion, was slipping through the +rhododendrons along the bank of Roaring Fork, until he could climb the +mountain-side and slip through the Gap high over the army's head. + +What could have happened? + +When dusk was falling, Captain Wells dispatched a messenger to +Lieutenant Skaggs and his reserve, and got an answer; Lieutenant Skaggs +feared that Boggs had been captured without the firing of a single +shot--but the flag was floating still. An hour later, Lieutenant Skaggs +sent another message--he could not see the flag. Captain Wells answered, +stoutly: + +"Hold yo' own." + +And so, as darkness fell, the Army of the Callahan waited in the strain +of mortal expectancy as one man; and Flitter Bill waited, with his horse +standing saddled in the barn, ready for swift flight. And, as darkness +fell, Tallow Dick was cautiously picking his way alongside the steep +wall of the Gap toward freedom, and picking it with stealthy caution, +foot by foot; for up there, to this day, big loose rocks mount halfway +to the jagged points of the black cliffs, and a careless step would have +detached one and sent an avalanche of rumbling stones down to betray +him. A single shot rang suddenly out far up through the Gap, and the +startled negro sprang forward, slipped, and, with a low, frightened +oath, lay still. Another shot followed, and another. Then a hoarse +murmur rose, loudened into thunder, and ended in a frightful--boom! One +yell rang from the army's throat: + +"The Kentuckians! The Kentuckians! The wild, long-haired, terrible +Kentuckians!" + +Captain Wells sprang into the air. + +"My God, they've got a cannon!" + +Then there was a martial chorus--the crack of rifle, the hoarse cough of +horse-pistol, the roar of old muskets. + +"Bing! Bang! Boom! Bing--bing! Bang--bang! Boom--boom! +Bing--bang--boom!" + +Lieutenant Skaggs and his reserves heard the beat of running feet down +the Gap. + +"They've gobbled Boggs," he said, and the reserve rushed after him as he +fled. The army heard the beat of their coming feet. + +"They've gobbled Skaggs," the army said. + +Then was there bedlam as the army fled--a crashing through bushes--a +splashing into the river, the rumble of mule wagons, yells of terror, +swift flying shapes through the pale moonlight. Flitter Bill heard the +din as he stood by his barn door. + +"They've gobbled the army," said Flitter Bill, and he, too, fled like a +shadow down the valley. + +Nature never explodes such wild and senseless energy as when she lets +loose a mob in a panic. With the army, it was each man for himself and +devil take the hindmost; and the flight of the army was like a flight +from the very devil himself. Lieutenant Boggs, whose feet were the +swiftest in the hills, outstripped his devoted band. Lieutenant Skaggs, +being fat and slow, fell far behind his reserve, and dropped exhausted +on a rock for a moment to get his breath. As he rose, panting, to resume +flight, a figure bounded out of the darkness behind him, and he gathered +it in silently and went with it to the ground, where both fought +silently in the dust until they rolled into the moonlight and each +looked the other in the face. + +"That you, Jim Skaggs?" + +"That you, Tom Boggs?" + +Then the two lieutenants rose swiftly, but a third shape bounded into +the road--a gigantic figure--Black Tom! With a startled yell they +gathered him in--one by the waist, the other about the neck, and, for a +moment, the terrible Kentuckian--it could be none other--swung the two +clear of the ground, but the doughty lieutenants hung to him. Boggs +trying to get his knife and Skaggs his pistol, and all went down in a +heap. + +"I surrender--I surrender!" It was the giant who spoke, and at the sound +of his voice both men ceased to struggle, and, strange to say, no one of +the three laughed. + +"Lieutenant Boggs," said Captain Wells, thickly, "take yo' thumb out o' +my mouth. Lieutenant Skaggs, leggo my leg an' stop bitin' me." + +"Sh--sh--sh--" said all three. + +The faint swish of bushes as Lieutenant Boggs's ten men scuttled into +the brush behind them--the distant beat of the army's feet getting +fainter ahead of them, and then silence--dead, dead silence. + +"Sh--sh--sh!" + +With the red streaks of dawn Captain Mayhall Wells was pacing up and +down in front of Flitter Bill's store, a gaping crowd about him, and the +shattered remnants of the army drawn up along Roaring Fork in the rear. +An hour later Flitter Bill rode calmly in. + +"I stayed all night down the valley," said Flitter Bill. "Uncle Jim +Richmond was sick. I hear you had some trouble last night, Captain +Wells." The captain expanded his chest. + +"Trouble!" he repeated, sarcastically. And then he told how a charging +horde of daredevils had driven him from camp with overwhelming numbers +and one piece of artillery; how he had rallied the army and fought them +back, foot by foot, and put them to fearful rout; how the army had +fallen back again just when the Kentuckians were running like sheep, and +how he himself had stayed in the rear with Lieutenant Boggs and +Lieutenant Skaggs, "to cover their retreat, suh," and how the purveyor, +if he would just go up through the Gap, would doubtless find the cannon +that the enemy had left behind in their flight. It was just while he was +thus telling the tale for the twentieth time that two figures appeared +over the brow of the hill and drew near--Hence Sturgill on horseback and +Tallow Dick on foot. + +"I ketched this nigger in my corn-fiel' this mornin'," said Hence, +simply, and Flitter Bill glared, and without a word went for the +blacksnake ox-whip that hung by the barn door. + +For the twenty-first time Captain Wells started his tale again, and with +every pause that he made for breath Hence cackled scorn. + +"An', Hence Sturgill, ef you will jus' go up in the Gap you'll find a +cannon, captured, suh, by me an' the Army of the Callahan, an'--" + +"Cannon!" Hence broke in. "Speak up, nigger!" And Tallow Dick spoke +up--grinning: + +"I done it!" + +"What!" shouted Flitter Bill. + +"I kicked a rock loose climbin' over Callahan's Nose." + +Bill dropped his whip with a chuckle of pure ecstasy. Mayhall paled and +stared. The crowd roared, the Army of the Callahan grinned, and Hence +climbed back on his horse. + +"Mayhall Wells," he said, "plain ole Mayhall Wells, I'll see you on +Couht Day. I ain't got time now." + +And he rode away. + +[Illustration: "Speak up, nigger."] + + + +IV + +That day Captain Mayhall Wells and the Army of the Callahan were in +disrepute. Next day the awful news of Lee's surrender came. Captain +Wells refused to believe it, and still made heroic effort to keep his +shattered command together. Looking for recruits on Court Day, he was +twitted about the rout of the army by Hence Sturgill, whose long-coveted +chance to redeem himself had come. Again, as several times before, the +captain declined to fight--his health was essential to the general +well-being--but Hence laughed in his face, and the captain had to face +the music, though the heart of him was gone. + +He fought well, for he was fighting for his all, and he knew it. He +could have whipped with ease, and he did whip, but the spirit of the +thoroughbred was not in Captain Mayhall Wells. He had Sturgill down, but +Hence sank his teeth into Mayhall's thigh while Mayhall's hands grasped +his opponent's throat. The captain had only to squeeze, as every +rough-and-tumble fighter knew, and endure his pain until Hence would +have to give in. But Mayhall was not built to endure. He roared like a +bull as soon as the teeth met in his flesh, his fingers relaxed, and to +the disgusted surprise of everybody he began to roar with great +distinctness and agony: + +"'Nough! 'Nough!" + +The end was come, and nobody knew it better than Mayhall Wells. He rode +home that night with hands folded on the pommel of his saddle and his +beard crushed by his chin against his breast. For the last time, next +morning he rode down to Flitter Bill's store. On the way he met Parson +Kilburn and for the last time Mayhall Wells straightened his shoulders +and for one moment more resumed his part: perhaps the parson had not +heard of his fall. + +"Good-mornin', parsing," he said, pleasantly. "Ah--where have you been?" +The parson was returning from Cumberland Gap, whither he had gone to +take the oath of allegiance. + +"By the way, I have something here for you which Flitter Bill asked me +to give you. He said it was from the commandant at Cumberland Gap." + +"Fer me?" asked the captain--hope springing anew in his heart. The +parson handed him a letter. Mayhall looked at it upside down. + +"If you please, parsing," he said, handing it back, "I hev left my +specs at home." + +The parson read that, whereas Captain Wells had been guilty of grave +misdemeanors while in command of the Army of the Callahan, he should be +arrested and court-martialled for the same, or be given the privilege of +leaving the county in twenty-four hours. Mayhall's face paled a little +and he stroked his beard. + +"Ah--does anybody but you know about this ordah, parsing?" + +"Nobody." + +"Well, if you will do me the great favor, parsing, of not mentioning it +to nary a living soul--as fer me and my ole gray hoss and my household +furniture--we'll be in Kanetuck afore daybreak to-morrow mornin'!" And +he was. + +But he rode on just then and presented himself for the last time at the +store of Flitter Bill. Bill was sitting on the stoop in his favorite +posture. And in a moment there stood before him plain Mayhall +Wells--holding out the order Bill had given the parson that day. + +"Misto Richmond," he said, "I have come to tell you good-by." + +Now just above the selfish layers of fat under Flitter Bill's chubby +hands was a very kind heart. When he saw Mayhall's old manner and heard +the old respectful way of address, and felt the dazed helplessness of +the big, beaten man, the heart thumped. + +"I am sorry about that little amount I owe you; I think I'll be able +shortly--" But Bill cut him short. Mayhall Wells, beaten, disgraced, +driven from home on charge of petty crimes, of which he was undoubtedly +guilty, but for which Bill knew he himself was responsible--Mayhall on +his way into exile and still persuading himself and, at that moment, +almost persuading him that he meant to pay that little debt of long +ago--was too much for Flitter Bill, and he proceeded to lie--lying with +deliberation and pleasure. + +"Captain Wells," he said--and the emphasis on the title was balm to +Mayhall's soul--"you have protected me in time of war, an' you air +welcome to yo' uniform an' you air welcome to that little debt. Yes," he +went on, reaching down into his pocket and pulling out a roll of bills, +"I tender you in payment for that same protection the regular pay of a +officer in the Confederate service"--and he handed out the army pay for +three months in Confederate greenbacks--"an' five dollars in money of +the United States, of which I an', doubtless, you, suh, air true and +loyal citizens. Captain Wells, I bid you good-by an' I wish ye well--I +wish ye well." + +From the stoop of his store Bill watched the captain ride away, +drooping at the shoulders, and with his hands folded on the pommel of +his saddle--his dim blue eyes misty, the jaunty forage cap a mockery of +his iron-gray hair, and the flaps of his coat fanning either side like +mournful wings. + +And Flitter Bill muttered to himself: + +"Atter he's gone long enough fer these things to blow over, I'm going to +bring him back and give him another chance--yes, damme if I don't git +him back." + +And Bill dropped his remorseful eye to the order in his hand. Like the +handwriting of the order that lifted Mayhall like magic into power, the +handwriting of this order, that dropped him like a stone--was Flitter +Bill's own. + + + + +THE PARDON OF BECKY DAY + + +The missionary was young and she was from the North. Her brows were +straight, her nose was rather high, and her eyes were clear and gray. +The upper lip of her little mouth was so short that the teeth just under +it were never quite concealed. It was the mouth of a child and it gave +the face, with all its strength and high purpose, a peculiar pathos that +no soul in that little mountain town had the power to see or feel. A +yellow mule was hitched to the rickety fence in front of her and she +stood on the stoop of a little white frame-house with an elm switch +between her teeth and gloves on her hands, which were white and looked +strong. The mule wore a man's saddle, but no matter--the streets were +full of yellow pools, the mud was ankle-deep, and she was on her way to +the sick-bed of Becky Day. + +There was a flood that morning. All the preceding day the rains had +drenched the high slopes unceasingly. That night, the rain-clear forks +of the Kentucky got yellow and rose high, and now they crashed together +around the town and, after a heaving conflict, started the river on one +quivering, majestic sweep to the sea. + +Nobody gave heed that the girl rode a mule or that the saddle was not +her own, and both facts she herself quickly forgot. This half log, half +frame house on a corner had stood a siege once. She could yet see bullet +holes about the door. Through this window, a revenue officer from the +Blue Grass had got a bullet in the shoulder from a garden in the rear. +Standing in the post-office door only just one month before, she herself +had seen children scurrying like rabbits through the back-yard fences, +men running silently here and there, men dodging into doorways, fire +flashing in the street and from every house--and not a sound but the +crack of pistol and Winchester; for the mountain men deal death in all +the terrible silence of death. And now a preacher with a long scar +across his forehead had come to the one little church in the place and +the fervor of religion was struggling with feudal hate for possession of +the town. To the girl, who saw a symbol in every mood of the earth, the +passions of these primitive people were like the treacherous streams of +the uplands--now quiet as sunny skies and now clashing together with but +little less fury and with much more noise. And the roar of the flood +above the wind that late afternoon was the wrath of the Father, that +with the peace of the Son so long on earth, such things still could be. +Once more trouble was threatening and that day even she knew that +trouble might come, but she rode without fear, for she went when and +where she pleased as any woman can, throughout the Cumberland, without +insult or harm. + +At the end of the street were two houses that seemed to front each other +with unmistakable enmity. In them were two men who had wounded each +other only the day before, and who that day would lead the factions, if +the old feud broke loose again. One house was close to the frothing hem +of the flood--a log-hut with a shed of rough boards for a kitchen--the +home of Becky Day. + +The other was across the way and was framed and smartly painted. On the +steps sat a woman with her head bare and her hands under her +apron--widow of the Marcum whose death from a bullet one month before +had broken the long truce of the feud. A groaning curse was growled from +the window as the girl drew near, and she knew it came from a wounded +Marcum who had lately come back from the West to avenge his brother's +death. + +"Why don't you go over to see your neighbor?" The girl's clear eyes gave +no hint that she knew--as she well did--the trouble between the houses, +and the widow stared in sheer amazement, for mountaineers do not talk +with strangers of the quarrels between them. + +"I have nothin' to do with such as her," she said, sullenly; "she ain't +the kind--" + +"Don't!" said the girl, with a flush, "she's dying." + +"_Dyin?_" + +"Yes." With the word the girl sprang from the mule and threw the reins +over the pale of the fence in front of the log-hut across the way. In +the doorway she turned as though she would speak to the woman on the +steps again, but a tall man with a black beard appeared in the low door +of the kitchen-shed. + +"How is your--how is Mrs. Day?" + +"Mighty puny this mornin'--Becky is." + +The girl slipped into the dark room. On a disordered, pillowless bed lay +a white face with eyes closed and mouth slightly open. Near the bed was +a low wood fire. On the hearth were several thick cups filled with herbs +and heavy fluids and covered with tarpaulin, for Becky's "man" was a +teamster. With a few touches of the girl's quick hands, the covers of +the bed were smooth, and the woman's eyes rested on the girl's own +cloak. With her own handkerchief she brushed the death-damp from the +forehead that already seemed growing cold. At her first touch, the +woman's eyelids opened and dropped together again. Her lips moved, but +no sound came from them. + +In a moment the ashes disappeared, the hearth was clean and the fire was +blazing. Every time the girl passed the window she saw the widow across +the way staring hard at the hut. When she took the ashes into the +street, the woman spoke to her. + +"I can't go to see Becky--she hates me." + +"With good reason." + +The answer came with a clear sharpness that made the widow start and +redden angrily; but the girl walked straight to the gate, her eyes +ablaze with all the courage that the mountain woman knew and yet with +another courage to which the primitive creature was a stranger--a +courage that made the widow lower her own eyes and twist her hands under +her apron. + +"I want you to come and ask Becky to forgive you." + +The woman stared and laughed. + +"Forgive me? Becky forgive me? She wouldn't--an' I don't want her--" She +could not look up into the girl's eyes; but she pulled a pipe from under +the apron, laid it down with a trembling hand and began to rock +slightly. + +The girl leaned across the gate. + +"Look at me!" she said, sharply. The woman raised her eyes, swerved +them once, and then in spite of herself, held them steady. + +"Listen! Do you want a dying woman's curse?" + +It was a straight thrust to the core of a superstitious heart and a +spasm of terror crossed the woman's face. She began to wring her hands. + +"Come on!" said the girl, sternly, and turned, without looking back, +until she reached the door of the hut, where she beckoned and stood +waiting, while the woman started slowly and helplessly from the steps, +still wringing her hands. Inside, behind her, the wounded Marcum, who +had been listening, raised himself on one elbow and looked after her +through the window. + +"She can't come in--not while I'm in here." + +The girl turned quickly. It was Dave Day, the teamster, in the kitchen +door, and his face looked blacker than his beard. + +"Oh!" she said, simply, as though hurt, and then with a dignity that +surprised her, the teamster turned and strode towards the back door. + +"But I can git out, I reckon," he said, and he never looked at the widow +who had stopped, frightened, at the gate. + +"Oh, I can't--I _can't!_" she said, and her voice broke; but the girl +gently pushed her to the door, where she stopped again, leaning against +the lintel. Across the way, the wounded Marcum, with a scowl of wonder, +crawled out of his bed and started painfully to the door. The girl saw +him and her heart beat fast. + +Inside, Becky lay with closed eyes. She stirred uneasily, as though she +felt some hated presence, but her eyes stayed fast, for the presence of +Death in the room was stronger still. + +"Becky!" At the broken cry, Becky's eyes flashed wide and fire broke +through the haze that had gathered in them. + +"I want ye ter fergive me, Becky." + +The eyes burned steadily for a long time. For two days she had not +spoken, but her voice came now, as though from the grave. + +"You!" she said, and, again, with torturing scorn, "You!" And then she +smiled, for she knew why her enemy was there, and her hour of triumph +was come. The girl moved swiftly to the window--she could see the +wounded Marcum slowly crossing the street, pistol in hand. + +"What'd I ever do to you?" + +"Nothin', Becky, nothin'." + +Becky laughed harshly. "You can tell the truth--can't ye--to a dyin' +woman?" + +"Fergive me, Becky!" + +A scowling face, tortured with pain, was thrust into the window. + +"Sh-h!" whispered the girl, imperiously, and the man lifted his heavy +eyes, dropped one elbow on the window-sill and waited. + +"You tuk Jim from me!" + +The widow covered her face with her hands, and the Marcum at the +window--brother to Jim, who was dead--lowered at her, listening keenly. + +"An' you got him by lyin' 'bout me. You tuk him by lyin' 'bout +me--didn't ye? Didn't ye?" she repeated, fiercely, and her voice would +have wrung the truth from a stone. + +"Yes--Becky--yes!" + +"You hear?" cried Becky, turning her eyes to the girl. + +"You made him believe an' made ever'body, you could, believe that I +was--was _bad_" Her breath got short, but the terrible arraignment went +on. + +"You started this war. My brother wouldn't 'a' shot Jim Marcum if it +hadn't been fer you. You killed Jim--your own husband--an' you killed +_me_. An' now you want me to fergive you--you!" She raised her right +hand as though with it she would hurl the curse behind her lips, and the +widow, with a cry, sprang for the bony fingers, catching them in her own +hand and falling over on her knees at the bedside. + +"Don't, Becky, don't--don't--_don't!_" + +There was a slight rustle at the back window. At the other, a pistol +flashed into sight and dropped again below the sill. Turning, the girl +saw Dave's bushy black head--he, too, with one elbow on the sill and the +other hand out of sight. + +"Shame!" she said, looking from one to the other of the two men, who had +learned, at last, the bottom truth of the feud; and then she caught the +sick woman's other hand and spoke quickly. + +"Hush, Becky," she said; and at the touch of her hand and the sound of +her voice, Becky looked confusedly at her and let her upraised hand sink +back to the bed. The widow stared swiftly from Jim's brother, at one +window, to Dave Day at the other, and hid her face on her arms. + +"Remember, Becky--how can you expect forgiveness in another world, +unless you forgive in this?" + +The woman's brow knitted and she lay quiet. Like the widow who held her +hand, the dying woman believed, with never the shadow of a doubt, that +somewhere above the stars, a living God reigned in a heaven of +never-ending happiness; that somewhere beneath the earth a personal +devil gloated over souls in eternal torture; that whether she went +above, or below, hung solely on her last hour of contrition; and that +in heaven or hell she would know those whom she might meet as surely as +she had known them on earth. By and by her face softened and she drew a +long breath. + +"Jim was a good man," she said. And then after a moment: + +"An' I was a good woman"--she turned her eyes towards the girl--"until +Jim married _her_. I didn't keer after that." Then she got calm, and +while she spoke to the widow, she looked at the girl. + +"Will you git up in church an' say before everybody that you knew I was +_good_ when you said I was bad--that you lied about me?" + +"Yes--yes." Still Becky looked at the girl, who stooped again. + +"She will, Becky, I know she will. Won't you forgive her and leave peace +behind you? Dave and Jim's brother are here--make them shake hands. +Won't you--won't you?" she asked, turning from one to the other. + +Both men were silent. + +"Won't you?" she repeated, looking at Jim's brother. + +"I've got nothin' agin Dave. I always thought that she"--he did not call +his brother's wife by name--"caused all this trouble. I've nothin' agin +Dave." + +The girl turned. "Won't you, Dave?" + +"I'm waitin' to hear whut Becky says." + +Becky was listening, though her eyes were closed. Her brows knitted +painfully. It was a hard compromise that she was asked to make i between +mortal hate and a love that was more than mortal, but the Plea that has +stood between them for nearly twenty centuries prevailed, and the girl +knew that the end of the feud was nigh. + +Becky nodded. + +"Yes, I fergive her, an' I want 'em to shake hands." + +But not once did she turn her eyes to the woman whom she forgave, and +the hand that the widow held gave back no answering pressure. The faces +at the windows disappeared, and she motioned for the girl to take her +weeping enemy away. + +She did not open her eyes when the girl came back, but her lips moved +and the girl bent above her. + +"I know whar Jim is." + +From somewhere outside came Dave's cough, and the dying woman turned her +head as though she were reminded of something she had quite forgotten. +Then, straightway, she forgot again. + +The voice of the flood had deepened. A smile came to Becky's lips--a +faint, terrible smile of triumph. The girl bent low and, with a +startled face, shrank back. + +"_An' I'll--git--thar--first._" + +With that whisper went Becky's last breath, but the smile was there, +even when her lips were cold. + + + + +A CRISIS FOR THE GUARD + + +The tutor was from New England, and he was precisely what passes, with +Southerners, as typical. He was thin, he wore spectacles, he talked +dreamy abstractions, and he looked clerical. Indeed, his ancestors had +been clergymen for generations, and, by nature and principle, he was an +apostle of peace and a non-combatant. He had just come to the Gap--a +cleft in the Cumberland Mountains--to prepare two young Blue Grass +Kentuckians for Harvard. The railroad was still thirty miles away, and +he had travelled mule-back through mudholes, on which, as the joke ran, +a traveller was supposed to leave his card before he entered and +disappeared--that his successor might not unknowingly press him too +hard. I do know that, in those mudholes, mules were sometimes drowned. +The tutor's gray mule fell over a bank with him, and he would have gone +back had he not feared what was behind more than anything that was +possible ahead. He was mud-bespattered, sore, tired and dispirited when +he reached the Gap, but still plucky and full of business. He wanted to +see his pupils at once and arrange his schedule. They came in after +supper, and I had to laugh when I saw his mild eyes open. The boys were +only fifteen and seventeen, but each had around him a huge revolver and +a belt of cartridges, which he unbuckled and laid on the table after +shaking hands. The tutor's shining glasses were raised to me for light. +I gave it: my brothers had just come in from a little police duty, I +explained. Everybody was a policeman at the Gap, I added; and, +naturally, he still looked puzzled; but he began at once to question the +boys about their studies, and, in an hour, he had his daily schedule +mapped out and submitted to me. I had to cover my mouth with my hand +when I came to one item--"Exercise: a walk of half an hour every +Wednesday afternoon between five and six"--for the younger, known since +at Harvard as the colonel, and known then at the Gap as the Infant of +the Guard, winked most irreverently. As he had just come back from a +ten-mile chase down the valley on horseback after a bad butcher, and as +either was apt to have a like experience any and every day, I was not +afraid they would fail to get exercise enough; so I let that item of the +tutor pass. + +The tutor slept in my room that night, and my four brothers, the eldest +of whom was a lieutenant on the police guard, in a room across the +hallway. I explained to the tutor that there was much lawlessness in +the region; that we "foreigners" were trying to build a town, and that, +to ensure law and order, we had all become volunteer policemen. He +seemed to think it was most interesting. + +About three o'clock in the morning a shrill whistle blew, and, from +habit, I sprang out of bed. I had hardly struck the floor when four +pairs of heavy boots thundered down the stairs just outside the door, +and I heard a gasp from the startled tutor. He was bolt upright in bed, +and his face in the moonlight was white with fear. + +"Wha--wha--what's that?" + +I told him it was a police whistle and that the boys were answering it. +Everybody jumped when he heard a whistle, I explained; for nobody in +town was permitted to blow one except a policeman. I guessed there would +be enough men answering that whistle without me, however, and I slipped +back into bed. + +"Well," he said; and when the boys lumbered upstairs again and one +shouted through the door, "All right!" the tutor said again with +emphasis: "Well!" + +Next day there was to be a political gathering at the Gap. A Senator was +trying to lift himself by his own boot-straps into the Governor's +chair. He was going to make a speech, there would be a big and unruly +crowd, and it would be a crucial day for the Guard. So, next morning, I +suggested to the tutor that it would be unwise for him to begin work +with his pupils that day, for the reason that he was likely to be +greatly interrupted and often. He thought, however, he would like to +begin. He did begin, and within half an hour Gordon, the town sergeant, +thrust his head inside the door and called the colonel by name. + +"Come on," he said; "they're going to try that d--n butcher." And seeing +from the tutor's face that he had done something dreadful, he slammed +the door in apologetic confusion. The tutor was law-abiding, and it was +the law that called the colonel, and so the tutor let him go--nay, went +with him and heard the case. The butcher had gone off on another man's +horse--the man owed him money, he said, and the only way he could get +his money was to take the horse as security. But the sergeant did not +know this, and he and the colonel rode after him, and the colonel, +having the swifter horse, but not having had time to get his own pistol, +took the sergeant's and went ahead. He fired quite close to the running +butcher twice, and the butcher thought it wise to halt. When he saw the +child who had captured him he was speechless, and he got off his horse +and cut a big switch to give the colonel a whipping, but the doughty +Infant drew down on him again and made him ride, foaming with rage, back +to town. The butcher was good-natured at the trial, however, and the +tutor heard him say, with a great guffaw: + +"An' I _do_ believe the d--n little fool would 'a' shot me." + +Once more the tutor looked at the pupil whom he was to lead into the +classic halls of Harvard, and once more he said: + +"Well!" + +People were streaming into town now, and I persuaded the tutor that +there was no use for him to begin his studies again. He said he would go +fishing down the river and take a swim. He would get back in time to +hear the speaking in the afternoon. So I got him a horse, and he came +out with a long cane fishing-pole and a pair of saddle-bags. I told him +that he must watch the old nag or she would run away with him, +particularly when he started homeward. The tutor was not much of a +centaur. The horse started as he was throwing the wrong leg over his +saddle, and the tutor clamped his rod under one arm, clutching for the +reins with both hands and kicking for his stirrups with both feet. The +tip of the limber pole beat the horse's flank gently as she struck a +trot, and smartly as she struck into a lope, and so with arms, feet, +saddle-pockets, and fishing-rod flapping towards different points of the +compass, the tutor passed out of sight over Poplar Hill on a dead run. + +As soon as he could get over a fit of laughter and catch his breath, the +colonel asked: + +"Do you know what he had in those saddle-pockets?" + +"No." + +"A bathing suit," he shouted; and he went off again. + +Not even in a primeval forest, it seemed, would the modest Puritan bare +his body to the mirror of limpid water and the caress of mountain air. + + * * * * * + +The trouble had begun early that morning, when Gordon, the town +sergeant, stepped from his door and started down the street with no +little self-satisfaction. He had been arraying himself for a full hour, +and after a tub-bath and a shave he stepped, spic and span, into the +street with his head steadily held high, except when he bent it to look +at the shine of his boots, which was the work of his own hands, and of +which he was proud. As a matter of fact, the sergeant felt that he +looked just as he particularly wanted to look on that day--his best. +Gordon was a native of Wise, but that day a girl was coming from Lee, +and he was ready for her. + +Opposite the Intermont, a pistol-shot cracked from Cherokee Avenue, and +from habit he started that way. Logan, the captain of the Guard--the +leading lawyer in that part of the State--was ahead of him however, and +he called to Gordon to follow. Gordon ran in the grass along the road to +keep those boots out of the dust. Somebody had fired off his pistol for +fun and was making tracks for the river. As they pushed the miscreant +close, he dashed into the river to wade across. It was a very cold +morning, and Gordon prayed that the captain was not going to be such a +fool as to follow the fellow across the river. He should have known +better, + +"In with you," said the captain quietly, and the mirror of the shining +boots was dimmed, and the icy water chilled the sergeant to the knees +and made him so mad that he flashed his pistol and told the runaway to +halt, which he did in the middle of the stream. It was Richards, the +tough from "the Pocket," and, as he paid his fine promptly, they had to +let him go. Gordon went back, put on his everyday clothes and got his +billy and his whistle and prepared to see the maid from Lee when his +duty should let him. As a matter of fact, he saw her but once, and then +he was not made happy. + +The people had come in rapidly--giants from the Crab Orchard, +mountaineers from through the Gap, and from Cracker's Neck and +Thunderstruck Knob; Valley people from Little Stone-Gap, from the +furnace site and Bum Hollow and Wildcat, and people from Lee, from +Turkey Cove, and from the Pocket--the much-dreaded Pocket--far down in +the river hills. + +They came on foot and on horseback, and left their horses in the bushes +and crowded the streets and filled the saloon of one Jack Woods--who had +the cackling laugh of Satan and did not like the Guard, for good +reasons, and whose particular pleasure was to persuade some customer to +stir up a hornet's nest of trouble. From the saloon the crowd moved up +towards the big spring at the foot of Imboden Hill, where, under +beautiful trunk-mottled beeches, was built the speakers' platform. + +Precisely at three o'clock the local orator much flurried, rose, ran his +hand through his long hair and looked in silence over the crowd. + +"Fellow citizens! There's beauty in the stars, of night and in the +glowin' orb of day. There's beauty in the rollin' meadow and in the +quiet stream. There's beauty in the smilin' valley and in the +everlastin' hills. Therefore, fellow citizens--THEREFORE, fellow +citizens, allow me to introduce to you the future Governor of these +United States--Senator William Bayhone." And he sat down with such a +beatific smile of self-satisfaction that a fiend would not have had the +heart to say he had not won. + +Now, there are wandering minstrels yet in the Cumberland Hills. They +play fiddles and go about making up "ballets" that involve local +history. Sometimes they make a pretty good verse--this, for instance, +about a feud: + + The death of these two men + Caused great trouble in our land. + Caused men to leave their families + And take the parting hand. + Retaliation, still at war, + May never, never cease. + I would that I could only see + Our land once more at peace. + +There was a minstrel out in the crowd, and pretty soon he struck up his +fiddle and his lay, and he did not exactly sing the virtues of Billy +Bayhone. Evidently some partisan thought he ought, for he smote him on +the thigh with the toe of his boot and raised such a stir as a rude +stranger might had he smitten a troubadour in Arthur's Court. The crowd +thickened and surged, and four of the Guard emerged with the fiddler and +his assailant under arrest. It was as though the Valley were a sheet of +water straightway and the fiddler the dropping of a stone, for the +ripple of mischief started in every direction. It caught two +mountaineers on the edge of the crowd, who for no particular reason +thumped each other with their huge fists, and were swiftly led away by +that silent Guard. The operation of a mysterious force was in the air +and it puzzled the crowd. Somewhere a whistle would blow, and, from this +point and that, a quiet, well-dressed young man would start swiftly +toward it. The crowd got restless and uneasy, and, by and by, +experimental and defiant. For in that crowd was the spirit of Bunker +Hill and King's Mountain. It couldn't fiddle and sing; it couldn't +settle its little troubles after the good old fashion of fist and skull; +it couldn't charge up and down the streets on horseback if it pleased; +it couldn't ride over those puncheon sidewalks; it couldn't drink openly +and without shame; and, Shades of the American Eagle and the Stars and +Stripes, it couldn't even yell. No wonder, like the heathen, it raged. +What did these blanked "furriners" have against them anyhow? They +couldn't run _their_ country--not much. + +Pretty soon there came a shrill whistle far down-town--then another and +another. It sounded ominous, indeed, and it was, being a signal of +distress from the Infant of the Guard, who stood before the door of Jack +Woods's saloon with his pistol levelled on Richards, the tough from the +Pocket, the Infant, standing there with blazing eyes, alone and in the +heart of a gathering storm. + +Now the chain of lawlessness that had tightened was curious and +significant. There was the tough and his kind--lawless, irresponsible +and possible in any community. There was the farm-hand who had come to +town with the wild son of his employer--an honest, law-abiding farmer. +Came, too, a friend of the farmer who had not yet reaped the crop of +wild oats sown in his youth. Whiskey ran all into one mould. The +farm-hand drank with the tough, the wild son with the farm-hand, and the +three drank together, and got the farmer's unregenerate friend to drink +with them; and he and the law-abiding farmer himself, by and by, took a +drink for old time's sake. Now the cardinal command of rural and +municipal districts all through the South is, "Forsake not your friend": +and it does not take whiskey long to make friends. Jack Woods had given +the tough from the Pocket a whistle. + +"You dassen't blow it," said he. + +Richards asked why, and Jack told him. Straightway the tough blew the +whistle, and when the little colonel ran down to arrest him he laughed +and resisted, and the wild son and the farm-hand and Jack Woods showed +an inclination to take his part. So, holding his "drop" on the tough +with one hand, the Infant blew vigorously for help with the other. + +Logan, the captain, arrived first--he usually arrived first--and Gordon, +the sergeant, was by his side--Gordon was always by his side. He would +have stormed a battery if the captain had led him, and the captain would +have led him--alone--if he thought it was his duty. Logan was as calm as +a stage hero at the crisis of a play. The crowd had pressed close. + +"Take that man," he said sharply, pointing to the tough whom the colonel +held covered, and two men seized him from behind. + +The farm-hand drew his gun. + +"No, you don't!" he shouted. + +"Take _him_," said the captain quietly; and he was seized by two more and +disarmed. + +It was then that Sturgeon, the wild son, ran up. + +"You can't take that man to jail," he shouted with an oath, pointing at +the farm-hand. + +The captain waved his hand. "And _him_!" + +As two of the Guard approached, Sturgeon started for his gun. Now, +Sturgeon was Gordon's blood cousin, but Gordon levelled his own pistol. +Sturgeon's weapon caught in his pocket, and he tried to pull it loose. +The moment he succeeded Gordon stood ready to fire. Twice the hammer of +the sergeant's pistol went back almost to the turning-point, and then, +as he pulled the trigger again, Macfarlan, first lieutenant, who once +played lacrosse at Yale, rushed, parting the crowd right and left, and +dropped his billy lightly three times--right, left and right--on +Sturgeon's head. The blood spurted, the head fell back between the +bully's shoulders, his grasp on his pistol loosened, and he sank to his +knees. For a moment the crowd was stunned by the lightning quickness of +it all. It was the first blow ever struck in that country with a piece +of wood in the name of the law. + +"Take 'em on, boys," called the captain, whose face had paled a little, +though he seemed as cool as ever. + +And the boys started, dragging the three struggling prisoners, and the +crowd, growing angrier and angrier, pressed close behind, a hundred of +them, led by the farmer himself, a giant in size, and beside himself +with rage and humiliation. Once he broke through the guard line and was +pushed back. Knives and pistols began to flash now everywhere, and loud +threats and curses rose on all sides--the men should not be taken to +jail. The sergeant, dragging Sturgeon, looked up into the blazing eyes +of a girl on the sidewalk, Sturgeon's sister--the maid from Lee. The +sergeant groaned. Logan gave some order just then to the Infant, who +ran ahead, and by the time the Guard with the prisoners had backed to a +corner there were two lines of Guards drawn across the street. The first +line let the prisoners and their captors through, closed up behind, and +backed slowly towards the corner, where it meant to stand. + +It was very exciting there. Winchesters and shotguns protruded from the +line threateningly, but the mob came on as though it were going to press +through, and determined faces blenched with excitement, but not with +fear. A moment later, the little colonel and the Guards on either side +of him were jabbing at men with cocked Winchesters. At that moment it +would have needed but one shot to ring out to have started an awful +carnage; but not yet was there a man in the mob--and that is the trouble +with mobs--who seemed willing to make a sacrifice of himself that the +others might gain their end. For one moment they halted, cursing and +waving; their pistols, preparing for a charge; and in that crucial +moment the tutor from New England came like a thunderbolt to the rescue. +Shrieks of terror from children, shrieks of outraged modesty from women, +rent the air down the street where the huddled crowd was rushing right +and left in wild confusion, and, through the parting crowd, the tutor +flew into sight on horseback, bareheaded, barefooted, clad in a gaudily +striped bathing suit, with his saddle-pockets flapping behind him like +wings. Some mischievous mountaineers, seeing him in his bathing suit on +the point of a rock up the river, had joyously taken a pot-shot or two +at him, and the tutor had mounted his horse and fled. But he came as +welcome and as effective as an emissary straight from the God of +Battles, though he came against his will, for his old nag was frantic +and was running away. Men, women and children parted before him, and +gaping mouths widened as he passed. The impulse of the crowd ran faster +than his horse, and even the enraged mountaineers in amazed wonder +sprang out of his way, and, far in the rear, a few privileged ones saw +the frantic horse plunge towards his stable, stop suddenly, and pitch +his mottled rider through the door and mercifully out of sight. Human +purpose must give way when a pure miracle comes to earth to baffle it. +It gave way now long enough to let the oaken doors of the calaboose +close behind tough, farm-hand, and the farmer's wild son. The line of +Winchesters at the corner quietly gave way. The power of the Guard was +established, the backbone of the opposition broken; henceforth, the work +for law and order was to be easy compared with what it had been. Up at +the big spring under the beeches sat the disgusted orator of the day +and the disgusted Senator, who, seriously, was quite sure that the +Guard, being composed of Democrats, had taken this way to shatter his +campaign. + + * * * * * + +Next morning, in court, the members of the Guard acted as witnesses +against the culprits. Macfarlan stated that he had struck Sturgeon over +the head to save his life, and Sturgeon, after he had paid his fine, +said he would prefer being shot to being clubbed to death, and he bore +dangerous malice for a long time, until he learned what everybody else +knew, that Macfarlan always did what he thought he ought, and never +spoke anything but the literal truth, whether it hurt friend, foe or +himself. + +After court, Richards, the tough, met Gordon, the sergeant, in the road. +"Gordon," he said, "you swore to a ---- lie about me a while ago." + +"How do you want to fight?" asked Gordon. + +"Fair!" + +"Come on"; and Gordon started for the town limits across the river, +Richards following on horseback. At a store, Gordon unbuckled his belt +and tossed his pistol and his police badge inside. Jack Woods, seeing +this, followed, and the Infant, seeing Woods, followed too. The law was +law, but this affair was personal, and would be settled without the +limits of law and local obligation. Richards tried to talk to Gordon, +but the sergeant walked with his head down, as though he could not +hear--he was too enraged to talk. + +While Richards was hitching his horse in the bushes the sergeant stood +on the bank of the river with his arms folded and his chin swinging from +side to side. When he saw Richards in the open he rushed for him like a +young bull that feels the first swelling of his horns. It was not a +fair, stand-up, knock-down English fight, but a Scotch tussle, in which +either could strike, kick, bite or gouge. After a few blows they +clinched and whirled and fell, Gordon on top--with which advantage he +began to pound the tough from the Pocket savagely. Woods made as if to +pull him off, but the Infant drew his pistol. "Keep off!" + +"He's killing him!" shouted Woods, halting. + +"Let him holler 'Enough,' then," said the Infant. + +"He's killing him!" shouted Woods. + +"Let Gordon's friends take him off, then," said the Infant. "Don't _you_ +touch him." + +And it was done. Richards was senseless and speechless--he really +couldn't shout "Enough." But he was content, and the day left a very +satisfactory impression on him and on his friends. + +If they misbehaved in town they would be arrested: that was plain. But +it was also plain that if anybody had a personal grievance against one +of the Guard he could call him out of the town limits and get +satisfaction, after the way of his fathers. There was nothing personal +at all in the attitude of the Guard towards the outsiders; which +recognition was a great stride toward mutual understanding and final +high regard. + +All that day I saw that something was troubling the tutor from New +England. It was the Moral Sense of the Puritan at work, I supposed, and, +that night, when I came in with a new supply of "billies" and gave one +to each of my brothers, the tutor looked up over his glasses and cleared +his throat. + +"Now," said I to myself, "we shall catch it hot on the savagery of the +South and the barbarous Method of keeping it down"; but before he had +said three words the colonel looked as though he were going to get up +and slap the little dignitary on the back--which would have created a +sensation indeed. + +"Have you an extra one of those--those--" + +"Billies?" I said, wonderingly. + +"Yes. I--I believe I shall join the Guard myself," said the tutor from +New England. + + + + +CHRISTMAS NIGHT WITH SATAN + + +No night was this in Hades with solemn-eyed Dante, for Satan was only a +woolly little black dog, and surely no dog was ever more absurdly +misnamed. When Uncle Carey first heard that name, he asked gravely: + +"Why, Dinnie, where in h----," Uncle Carey gulped slightly, "did you get +him?" And Dinnie laughed merrily, for she saw the fun of the question, +and shook her black curls. + +"He didn't come f'um _that place_." + +Distinctly Satan had not come from that place. On the contrary, he might +by a miracle have dropped straight from some Happy Hunting-ground, for +all the signs he gave of having touched pitch in this or another sphere. +Nothing human was ever born that was gentler, merrier, more trusting or +more lovable than Satan. That was why Uncle Carey said again gravelyt +hat he could hardly tell Satan and his little mistress apart. He rarely +saw them apart, and as both had black tangled hair and bright black +eyes; as one awoke every morning with a happy smile and the other with a +jolly bark; as they played all day like wind-shaken shadows and each +won every heart at first sight--the likeness was really rather curious. +I have always believed that Satan made the spirit of Dinnie's house, +orthodox and severe though it was, almost kindly toward his great +namesake. I know I have never been able, since I knew little Satan, to +think old Satan as bad as I once painted him, though I am sure the +little dog had many pretty tricks that the "old boy" doubtless has never +used in order to amuse his friends. + +"Shut the door, Saty, please." Dinnie would say, precisely as she would +say it to Uncle Billy, the butler, and straightway Satan would launch +himself at it--bang! He never would learn to close it softly, for Satan +liked that--bang! + +If you kept tossing a coin or marble in the air, Satan would keep +catching it and putting it back in your hand for another throw, till you +got tired. Then he would drop it on a piece of rag carpet, snatch the +carpet with his teeth, throw the coin across the room and rush for it +like mad, until he got tired. If you put a penny on his nose, he would +wait until you counted, one--two--_three_! Then he would toss it up +himself and catch it. Thus, perhaps, Satan grew to love Mammon right +well, but for another and better reason than that he liked simply to +throw it around--as shall now be made plain. + +A rubber ball with a hole in it was his favorite plaything, and he +would take it in his mouth and rush around the house like a child, +squeezing it to make it whistle. When he got a new ball, he would hide +his old one away until the new one was the worse worn of the two, and +then he would bring out the old one again. If Dinnie gave him a nickel +or a dime, when they went down-town, Satan would rush into a store, rear +up on the counter where the rubber balls were kept, drop the coin, and +get a ball for himself. Thus, Satan learned finance. He began to hoard, +his pennies, and one day Uncle Carey found a pile of seventeen under a +corner of the carpet. Usually he carried to Dinnie all coins that he +found in the street, but he showed one day that he was going into the +ball-business for himself. Uncle Carey had given Dinnie a nickel for +some candy, and, as usual, Satan trotted down the street behind her. As +usual, Satan stopped before the knick-knack shop. + +"Tum on, Saty," said Dinnie. Satan reared against the door as he always +did, and Dinnie said again: + +"Tum on, Saty." As usual, Satan dropped to his haunches, but what was +unusual, he failed to bark. Now Dinnie had got a new ball for Satan only +that morning, so Dinnie stamped her foot. + +[Illustration: Satan would drop the coin and get a ball for himself.] + +"I tell you to turn on, Saty." Satan never moved. He looked at Dinnie +as much as to say: + +"I have never disobeyed you before, little mistress, but this time I +have an excellent reason for what must seem to you very bad manners--" +and being a gentleman withal, Satan rose on his haunches and begged. + +"You're des a pig, Saty," said Dinnie, but with a sigh for the candy +that was not to be, Dinnie opened the door, and Satan, to her wonder, +rushed to the counter, put his forepaws on it, and dropped from his +mouth a dime. Satan had found that coin on the street. He didn't bark +for change, nor beg for two balls, but he had got it in his woolly +little head, somehow, that in that store a coin meant a ball, though +never before nor afterward did he try to get a ball for a penny. + +Satan slept in Uncle Carey's room, for of all people, after Dinnie, +Satan loved Uncle Carey best. Every day at noon he would go to an +upstairs window and watch the cars come around the corner, until a very +tall, square-shouldered young man swung to the ground, and down Satan +would scamper--yelping--to meet him at the gate. If Uncle Carey, after +supper and when Dinnie was in bed, started out of the house, still in +his business clothes, Satan would leap out before him, knowing that he +too might be allowed to go; but if Uncle Carey had put on black clothes +that showed a big, dazzling shirt-front, and picked up his high hat, +Satan would sit perfectly still and look disconsolate; for as there were +no parties or theatres for Dinnie, so there were none for him. But no +matter how late it was when Uncle Carey came home, he always saw Satan's +little black nose against the window-pane and heard his bark of welcome. + +After intelligence, Satan's chief trait was lovableness--nobody ever +knew him to fight, to snap at anything, or to get angry; after +lovableness, it was politeness. If he wanted something to eat, if he +wanted Dinnie to go to bed, if he wanted to get out of the door, he +would beg--beg prettily on his haunches, his little red tongue out and +his funny little paws hanging loosely. Indeed, it was just because Satan +was so little less than human, I suppose, that old Satan began to be +afraid he might have a soul. So the wicked old namesake with the Hoofs +and Horns laid a trap for little Satan, and, as he is apt to do, he +began laying it early--long, indeed, before Christmas. + +When Dinnie started to kindergarten that autumn, Satan found that there +was one place where he could never go. Like the lamb, he could not go to +school; so while Dinnie was away, Satan began to make friends. He would +bark, "Howdy-do?" to every dog that passed his gate. Many stopped to rub +noses with him through the fence--even Hugo the mastiff, and nearly all, +indeed, except one strange-looking dog that appeared every morning at +precisely nine o'clock and took his stand on the corner. There he would +lie patiently until a funeral came along, and then Satan would see him +take his place at the head of the procession; and then he would march +out to the cemetery and back again. Nobody knew where he came from nor +where he went, and Uncle Carey called him the "funeral dog" and said he +was doubtless looking for his dead master. Satan even made friends with +a scrawny little yellow dog that followed an old drunkard around--a dog +that, when his master fell in the gutter, would go and catch a policeman +by the coat-tail, lead the officer to his helpless master, and spend the +night with him in jail. + +By and by Satan began to slip out of the house at night, and Uncle Billy +said he reckoned Satan had "jined de club"; and late one night, when he +had not come in, Uncle Billy told Uncle Carey that it was "powerful +slippery and he reckoned they'd better send de kerridge after him"--an +innocent remark that made Uncle Carey send a boot after the old butler, +who fled chuckling down the stairs, and left Uncle Carey chuckling in +his room. + +Satan had "jined de club"--the big club--and no dog was too lowly in +Satan's eyes for admission; for no priest ever preached the brotherhood +of man better than Satan lived it--both with man and dog. And thus he +lived it that Christmas night--to his sorrow. + +Christmas Eve had been gloomy--the gloomiest of Satan's life. Uncle +Carey had gone to a neighboring town at noon. Satan had followed him +down to the station, and when the train departed, Uncle Carey had +ordered him to go home. Satan took his time about going home, not +knowing it was Christmas Eve. He found strange things happening to dogs +that day. The truth was, that policemen were shooting all dogs found +that were without a collar and a license, and every now and then a bang +and a howl somewhere would stop Satan in his tracks. At a little yellow +house on the edge of town he saw half a dozen strange dogs in a kennel, +and every now and then a negro would lead a new one up to the house and +deliver him to a big man at the door, who, in return, would drop +something into the negro's hand. While Satan waited, the old drunkard +came along with his little dog at his heels, paused before the door, +looked a moment at his faithful follower, and went slowly on. Satan +little knew the old drunkard's temptation, for in that yellow house +kind-hearted people had offered fifteen cents for each dog brought to +them, without a license, that they might mercifully put it to death, and +fifteen cents was the precise price for a drink of good whiskey. Just +then there was another bang and another howl somewhere, and Satan +trotted home to meet a calamity. Dinnie was gone. Her mother had taken +her out in the country to Grandmother Dean's to spend Christmas, as was +the family custom, and Mrs. Dean would not wait any longer for Satan; so +she told Uncle Billy to bring him out after supper. + +"Ain't you 'shamed o' yo'self--suh--?" said the old butler, "keepin' me +from ketchin' Christmas gifts dis day?" + +Uncle Billy was indignant, for the negroes begin at four o'clock in the +afternoon of Christmas Eve to slip around corners and jump from hiding +places to shout "Christmas Gif--Christmas Gif'"; and the one who shouts +first gets a gift. No wonder it was gloomy for Satan--Uncle Carey, +Dinnie, and all gone, and not a soul but Uncle Billy in the big house. +Every few minutes he would trot on his little black legs upstairs and +downstairs, looking for his mistress. As dusk came on, he would every +now and then howl plaintively. After begging his supper, and while +Uncle Billy was hitching up a horse in the stable, Satan went out in the +yard and lay with his nose between the close panels of the fence--quite +heart-broken. When he saw his old friend, Hugo, the mastiff, trotting +into the gaslight, he began to bark his delight frantically. The big +mastiff stopped and nosed his sympathy through the fence for a moment +and walked slowly on, Satan frisking and barking along inside. At the +gate Hugo stopped, and raising one huge paw, playfully struck it. The +gate flew open, and with a happy yelp Satan leaped into the street. The +noble mastiff hesitated as though this were not quite regular. He did +not belong to the club, and he didn't know that Satan had ever been away +from home after dark in his life. For a moment he seemed to wait for +Dinnie to call him back as she always did, but this time there was no +sound, and Hugo walked majestically on, with absurd little Satan running +in a circle about him. On the way they met the "funeral dog," who +glanced inquiringly at Satan, shied from the mastiff, and trotted on. On +the next block the old drunkard's yellow cur ran across the street, and +after interchanging the compliments of the season, ran back after his +staggering master. As they approached the railroad track a strange dog +joined them, to whom Hugo paid no attention. At the crossing another +new acquaintance bounded toward them. This one--a half-breed +shepherd--was quite friendly, and he received Satan's advances with +affable condescension. Then another came and another, and little Satan's +head got quite confused. They were a queer-looking lot of curs and +half-breeds from the negro settlement at the edge of the woods, and +though Satan had little experience, his instincts told him that all was +not as it should be, and had he been human he would have wondered very +much how they had escaped the carnage that day. Uneasy, he looked around +for Hugo; but Hugo had disappeared. Once or twice Hugo had looked around +for Satan, and Satan paying no attention, the mastiff trotted on home in +disgust. Just then a powerful yellow cur sprang out of the darkness over +the railroad track, and Satan sprang to meet him, and so nearly had the +life scared out of him by the snarl and flashing fangs of the new-comer +that he hardly had the strength to shrink back behind his new friend, +the half-breed shepherd. + +A strange thing then happened. The other dogs became suddenly quiet, and +every eye was on the yellow cur. He sniffed the air once or twice, gave +two or three peculiar low growls, and all those dogs except Satan lost +the civilization of centuries and went back suddenly to the time when +they were wolves and were looking for a leader. The cur was Lobo for +that little pack, and after a short parley, he lifted his nose high and +started away without looking back, while the other dogs silently trotted +after him. With a mystified yelp, Satan ran after them. The cur did not +take the turnpike, but jumped the fence into a field, making his way by +the rear of houses, from which now and then another dog would slink out +and silently join the band. Every one of them Satan nosed most +friendlily, and to his great joy the funeral dog, on the edge of the +town, leaped into their midst. Ten minutes later the cur stopped in the +midst of some woods, as though he would inspect his followers. Plainly, +he disapproved of Satan, and Satan kept out of his way. Then he sprang +into the turnpike and the band trotted down it, under flying black +clouds and shifting bands of brilliant moonlight. Once, a buggy swept +past them. A familiar odor struck Satan's nose, and he stopped for a +moment to smell the horse's tracks; and right he was, too, for out at +her grandmother's Dinnie refused to be comforted, and in that buggy was +Uncle Billy going back to town after him. + +Snow was falling. It was a great lark for Satan. Once or twice, as he +trotted along, he had to bark his joy aloud, and each time the big cur +gave him such a fierce growl that he feared thereafter to open his +jaws. But he was happy for all that, to be running out into the night +with such a lot of funny friends and not to know or care where he was +going. He got pretty tired presently, for over hill and down hill they +went, at that unceasing trot, trot, trot! Satan's tongue began to hang +out. Once he stopped to rest, but the loneliness frightened him and he +ran on after them with his heart almost bursting. He was about to lie +right down and die, when the cur stopped, sniffed the air once or twice, +and with those same low growls, led the marauders through a rail fence +into the woods, and lay quietly down. How Satan loved that soft, thick +grass, all snowy that it was! It was almost as good as his own bed at +home. And there they lay--how long, Satan never knew, for he went to +sleep and dreamed that he was after a rat in the barn at home; and he +yelped in his sleep, which made the cur lift his big yellow head and +show his fangs. The moving of the half-breed shepherd and the funeral +dog waked him at last, and Satan got up. Half crouching, the cur was +leading the way toward the dark, still woods on top of the hill, over +which the Star of Bethlehem was lowly sinking, and under which lay a +flock of the gentle creatures that seemed to have been almost sacred to +the Lord of that Star. They were in sore need of a watchful shepherd +now. Satan was stiff and chilled, but he was rested and had had his +sleep, and he was just as ready for fun as he always was. He didn't +understand that sneaking. Why they didn't all jump and race and bark as +he wanted to, he couldn't see; but he was too polite to do otherwise +than as they did, and so he sneaked after them; and one would have +thought he knew, as well as the rest, the hellish mission on which they +were bent. + +Out of the woods they went, across a little branch, and there the big +cur lay flat again in the grass. A faint bleat came from the hill-side +beyond, where Satan could see another woods--and then another bleat, and +another. And the cur began to creep again, like a snake in the grass; +and the others crept too, and little Satan crept, though it was all a +sad mystery to him. Again the cur lay still, but only long enough for +Satan to see curious, fat, white shapes above him--and then, with a +blood-curdling growl, the big brute dashed forward. Oh, there was fun in +them after all! Satan barked joyfully. Those were some new +playmates--those fat, white, hairy things up there; and Satan was amazed +when, with frightened snorts, they fled in every direction. But this was +a new game, perhaps, of which he knew nothing, and as did the rest, so +did Satan. He picked out one of the white things and fled barking after +it. It was a little fellow that he was after, but little as he was, +Satan might never have caught up, had not the sheep got tangled in some +brush. Satan danced about him in mad glee, giving him a playful nip at +his wool and springing back to give him another nip, and then away +again. Plainly, he was not going to bite back, and when the sheep +struggled itself tired and sank down in a heap, Satan came close and +licked him, and as he was very warm and woolly, he lay down and snuggled +up against him for awhile, listening to the turmoil that was going on +around him. And as he listened, he got frightened. + +If this was a new game it was certainly a very peculiar one--the wild +rush, the bleats of terror, gasps of agony, and the fiendish growls of +attack and the sounds of ravenous gluttony. With every hair bristling, +Satan rose and sprang from the woods--and stopped with a fierce tingling +of the nerves that brought him horror and fascination. One of the white +shapes lay still before him. There was a great steaming red splotch on +the snow, and a strange odor in the air that made him dizzy; but only +for a moment. Another white shape rushed by. A tawny streak followed, +and then, in a patch of moonlight, Satan saw the yellow cur with his +teeth fastened in the throat of his moaning playmate. Like lightning +Satan sprang at the cur, who tossed him ten feet away and went back to +his awful work. Again Satan leaped, but just then a shout rose behind +him, and the cur leaped too as though a bolt of lightning had crashed +over him, and, no longer noticing Satan or sheep, began to quiver with +fright and slink away. Another shout rose from another direction--another +from another. + +"Drive 'em into the barn-yard!" was the cry. + +Now and then there was a fearful bang and a howl of death-agony, as some +dog tried to break through the encircling men, who yelled and cursed as +they closed in on the trembling brutes that slunk together and crept on; +for it is said, every sheep-killing dog knows his fate if caught, and +will make little effort to escape. With them went Satan, through the +barn-yard gate, where they huddled in a corner--a shamed and terrified +group. A tall overseer stood at the gate. + +"Ten of 'em!" he said grimly. + +He had been on the lookout for just such a tragedy, for there had +recently been a sheep-killing raid on several farms in that +neighborhood, and for several nights he had had a lantern hung out on +the edge of the woods to scare the dogs away; but a drunken farm-hand +had neglected his duty that Christmas Eve. + +"Yassuh, an' dey's jus' sebenteen dead sheep out dar," said a negro. + +"Look at the little one," said a tall boy who looked like the overseer; +and Satan knew that he spoke of him. + +"Go back to the house, son," said the overseer, "and tell your mother to +give you a Christmas present I got for you yesterday." With a glad whoop +the boy dashed away, and in a moment dashed back with a brand-new .32 +Winchester in his hand. + +The dark hour before dawn was just breaking on Christmas Day. It was the +hour when Satan usually rushed upstairs to see if his little mistress +was asleep. If he were only at home now, and if he only had known how +his little mistress was weeping for him amid her playthings and his--two +new balls and a brass-studded collar with a silver plate on which was +his name, Satan Dean; and if Dinnie could have seen him now, her heart +would have broken; for the tall boy raised his gun. There was a jet of +smoke, a sharp, clean crack, and the funeral dog started on the right +way at last toward his dead master. Another crack, and the yellow cur +leaped from the ground and fell kicking. Another crack and another, and +with each crack a dog tumbled, until little Satan sat on his haunches +amid the writhing pack, alone. His time was now come. As the rifle was +raised, he heard up at the big house the cries of children; the popping +of fire-crackers; tooting of horns and whistles and loud shouts of +"Christmas Gif', Christmas Gif'!" His little heart beat furiously. +Perhaps he knew just what he was doing; perhaps it was the accident of +habit; most likely Satan simply wanted to go home--but when that gun +rose, Satan rose too, on his haunches, his tongue out, his black eyes +steady and his funny little paws hanging loosely--and begged! The boy +lowered the gun. + +"Down, sir!" Satan dropped obediently, but when the gun was lifted +again, Satan rose again, and again he begged. + +"Down, I tell you!" This time Satan would not down, but sat begging for +his life. The boy turned. + +"Papa, I can't shoot that dog." Perhaps Satan had reached the stern old +overseer's heart. Perhaps he remembered suddenly that it was Christmas. +At any rate, he said gruffly: + +"Well, let him go." + +"Come here, sir!" Satan bounded toward the tall boy, frisking and +trustful and begged again. + +"Go home, sir!" + +Satan needed no second command. Without a sound he fled out the +barn-yard, and, as he swept under the front gate, a little girl ran out +of the front door of the big house and dashed down the steps, shrieking: + +"Saty! Saty! Oh, Saty!" But Satan never heard. On he fled, across the +crisp fields, leaped the fence and struck the road, lickety-split! for +home, while Dinnie dropped sobbing in the snow. + +"Hitch up a horse, quick," said Uncle Carey, rushing after Dinnie and +taking her up in his arms. Ten minutes later, Uncle Carey and Dinnie, +both warmly bundled up, were after flying Satan. They never caught him +until they reached the hill on the outskirts of town, where was the +kennel of the kind-hearted people who were giving painless death to +Satan's four-footed kind, and where they saw him stop and turn from the +road. There was divine providence in Satan's flight for one little dog +that Christmas morning; for Uncle Carey saw the old drunkard staggering +down the road without his little companion, and a moment later, both he +and Dinnie saw Satan nosing a little yellow cur between the palings. +Uncle Carey knew the little cur, and while Dinnie was shrieking for +Satan, he was saying under his breath: + +"Well, I swear!--I swear!--I swear!" And while the big man who came to +the door was putting Satan into Dinnie's arms, he said, sharply: + +"Who brought that yellow dog here?" The man pointed to the old +drunkard's figure turning a corner at the foot of the hill. + +"I thought so; I thought so. He sold him to you for--for a drink of +whiskey." + +The man whistled. + +"Bring him out. I'll pay his license." + +So back went Satan and the little cur to Grandmother Dean's--and Dinnie +cried when Uncle Carey told her why he was taking the little cur along. +With her own hands she put Satan's old collar on the little brute, took +him to the kitchen, and fed him first of all. Then she went into the +breakfast-room. + +"Uncle Billy," she said severely, "didn't I tell you not to let Saty +out?" + +"Yes, Miss Dinnie," said the old butler. + +"Didn't I tell you I was goin' to whoop you if you let Saty out?" + +"Yes, Miss Dinnie." + +Miss Dinnie pulled forth from her Christmas treasures a toy riding-whip +and the old darky's eyes began to roll in mock terror. + +"I'm sorry, Uncle Billy, but I des got to whoop you a little." + +"Let Uncle Billy off, Dinnie," said Uncle Carey, "this is Christmas." + +"All wite," said Dinnie, and she turned to Satan. + +In his shining new collar and innocent as a cherub, Satan sat on the +hearth begging for his breakfast. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10735 *** diff --git a/10735-h.zip b/10735-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7a1967d --- /dev/null +++ b/10735-h.zip diff --git a/10735-h/10735-h.htm b/10735-h/10735-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6aa8158 --- /dev/null +++ b/10735-h/10735-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2714 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Christmas Eve on Lonesome and Other Stories, by John Fox, Jr.</title> +<STYLE type=text/css>BODY { + MARGIN-LEFT: 10%; MARGIN-RIGHT: 10% +} +P { + TEXT-ALIGN: justify +} +BLOCKQUOTE { + TEXT-ALIGN: justify +} +H1 { + TEXT-ALIGN: center +} +H2 { + TEXT-ALIGN: center +} +H3 { + TEXT-ALIGN: center +} +H4 { + TEXT-ALIGN: center +} +H5 { + TEXT-ALIGN: center +} +H6 { + TEXT-ALIGN: center +} +PRE { + FONT-SIZE: 0.7em +} +HR { + WIDTH: 50%; TEXT-ALIGN: center +} +hr.full { width: 100%; } +UNKNOWN { + MARGIN-LEFT: 25%; WIDTH: 50%; MARGIN-RIGHT: 25% +} +HR.full { + WIDTH: 100% +} +UNKNOWN { + MARGIN-LEFT: 0%; WIDTH: 100%; MARGIN-RIGHT: 0% +} +.note { + FONT-SIZE: 0.9em; MARGIN-LEFT: 10%; MARGIN-RIGHT: 10% +} +.footnote { + FONT-SIZE: 0.9em; MARGIN-LEFT: 10%; MARGIN-RIGHT: 10% +} +.greek { + CURSOR: help +} +.poem { + MARGIN-LEFT: 10%; MARGIN-RIGHT: 10%; TEXT-ALIGN: left +} +.poem .stanza { + MARGIN: 1em 0em +} +.poem P { + PADDING-LEFT: 3em; MARGIN: 0px; TEXT-INDENT: -3em +} +.poem P.i2 { + MARGIN-LEFT: 2em +} +.poem P.i4 { + MARGIN-LEFT: 4em +} + a:link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:visited {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:hover {color:red} +</STYLE> + +</head> +<body> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, Christmas Eve on Lonesome and Other Stories, +by John Fox, Jr., Illustrated by F. C. Yohn, et al</h1> +<pre> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: Christmas Eve on Lonesome and Other Stories</p> +<p>Author: John Fox, Jr.</p> +<p>Release Date: January 17, 2004 [eBook #10735]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: iso-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHRISTMAS EVE ON LONESOME AND OTHER STORIES***</p> +<br> +<center><h3>E-text prepared by Juliet Sutherland, Dave Morgan,<br> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team</h3></center> + +<br><hr class="full"><br><br> +<h1>Christmas Eve On Lonesome And Other Stories</h1> + + +<h2>By John Fox, Jr.</h2> + + +<h3>Illustrated By F. C. Yohn, A. I. Keller,</h3> +<h3>W. A. Rogers And H. C. Ransom</h3> + + +<h5>1911</h5> + + + +<br><hr style="width: 65%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHRISTMAS EVE ON LONESOME AND OTHER STORIES</h2> +<br> +<br> +<h3>CONTENTS</h3> + +<h4><a href="#CHRISTMAS_EVE_ON_LONESOME">Christmas Eve On Lonesome</a></h4> + +<h4><a href="#THE_ARMY_OF_THE_CALLAHAN">The Army Of The Callahan</a></h4> + +<h4><a href="#THE_PARDON_OF_BECKY_DAY">The Pardon Of Becky Day</a></h4> + +<h4><a href="#A_CRISIS_FOR_THE_GUARD">A Crisis For The Guard</a></h4> + +<h4><a href="#CHRISTMAS_NIGHT_WITH_SATAN">Christmas Night With Satan</a></h4> + + + +<br><br> +<h3>ILLUSTRATIONS</h3> + +<h4><a href="#Captain">Captain Wells descended with no little majesty and "biffed" him</a></h4> + +<h4><a href="#Speak">"Speak up, nigger!"</a></h4> + +<h4><a href="#Satan">Satan would drop the coin and get a ball for himself</a></h4> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 65%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHRISTMAS EVE ON LONESOME AND OTHER STORIES</h2> + + + +<h3>TO THOMAS NELSON PAGE</h3> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 65%;"><br><br> +<a name="CHRISTMAS_EVE_ON_LONESOME"></a><h2>CHRISTMAS EVE ON LONESOME</h2> +<br> + +<p>It was Christmas Eve on Lonesome. But nobody on Lonesome knew that it +was Christmas Eve, although a child of the outer world could have +guessed it, even out in those wilds where Lonesome slipped from one lone +log cabin high up the steeps, down through a stretch of jungled darkness +to another lone cabin at the mouth of the stream.</p> + +<p>There was the holy hush in the gray twilight that comes only on +Christmas Eve. There were the big flakes of snow that fell as they never +fall except on Christmas Eve. There was a snowy man on horseback in a +big coat, and with saddle-pockets that might have been bursting with +toys for children in the little cabin at the head of the stream.</p> + +<p>But not even he knew that it was Christmas Eve. He was thinking of +Christmas Eve, but it was of the Christmas Eve of the year before, when +he sat in prison with a hundred other men in stripes, and listened to +the chaplain talk of peace and good will to all men upon earth, when he +had forgotten all men upon earth but one, and had only hatred in his +heart for him.</p> + +<p>"Vengeance is mine! saith the Lord."</p> + +<p>That was what the chaplain had thundered at him. And then, as now, he +thought of the enemy who had betrayed him to the law, and had sworn away +his liberty, and had robbed him of everything in life except a fierce +longing for the day when he could strike back and strike to kill. And +then, while he looked back hard into the chaplain's eyes, and now, while +he splashed through the yellow mud thinking of that Christmas Eve, Buck +shook his head; and then, as now, his sullen heart answered:</p> + +<p>"Mine!"</p> + +<p>The big flakes drifted to crotch and twig and limb. They gathered on the +brim of Buck's slouch hat, filled out the wrinkles in his big coat, +whitened his hair and his long mustache, and sifted into the yellow, +twisting path that guided his horse's feet.</p> + +<p>High above he could see through the whirling snow now and then the gleam +of a red star. He knew it was the light from his enemy's window; but +somehow the chaplain's voice kept ringing in his ears, and every time he +saw the light he couldn't help thinking of the story of the Star that +the chaplain told that Christmas Eve, and he dropped his eyes by and by, +so as not to see it again, and rode on until the light shone in his +face.</p> + +<p>Then he led his horse up a little ravine and hitched it among the snowy +holly and rhododendrons, and slipped toward the light. There was a dog +somewhere, of course; and like a thief he climbed over the low +rail-fence and stole through the tall snow-wet grass until he leaned +against an apple-tree with the sill of the window two feet above the +level of his eyes.</p> + +<p>Reaching above him, he caught a stout limb and dragged himself up to a +crotch of the tree. A mass of snow slipped softly to the earth. The +branch creaked above the light wind; around the corner of the house a +dog growled and he sat still.</p> + +<p>He had waited three long years and he had ridden two hard nights and +lain out two cold days in the woods for this.</p> + +<p>And presently he reached out very carefully, and noiselessly broke leaf +and branch and twig until a passage was cleared for his eye and for the +point of the pistol that was gripped in his right hand.</p> + +<p>A woman was just disappearing through the kitchen door, and he peered +cautiously and saw nothing but darting shadows. From one corner a shadow +loomed suddenly out in human shape. Buck saw the shadowed gesture of an +arm, and he cocked his pistol. That shadow was his man, and in a moment +he would be in a chair in the chimney corner to smoke his pipe, +maybe—his last pipe.</p> + +<p>Buck smiled—pure hatred made him smile—but it was mean, a mean and +sorry thing to shoot this man in the back, dog though he was; and now +that the moment had come a wave of sickening shame ran through Buck. No +one of his name had ever done that before; but this man and his people +had, and with their own lips they had framed palliation for him. What +was fair for one was fair for the other they always said. A poor man +couldn't fight money in the courts; and so they had shot from the brush, +and that was why they were rich now and Buck was poor—why his enemy was +safe at home, and he was out here, homeless, in the apple-tree.</p> + +<p>Buck thought of all this, but it was no use. The shadow slouched +suddenly and disappeared; and Buck was glad. With a gritting oath +between his chattering teeth he pulled his pistol in and thrust one leg +down to swing from the tree—he would meet him face to face next day and +kill him like a man—and there he hung as rigid as though the cold had +suddenly turned him, blood, bones, and marrow, into ice.</p> + +<p>The door had opened, and full in the firelight stood the girl who he had +heard was dead. He knew now how and why that word was sent him. And now +she who had been his sweetheart stood before him—the wife of the man he +meant to kill.</p> + +<p>Her lips moved—he thought he could tell what she said: "Git up, Jim, +git up!" Then she went back.</p> + +<p>A flame flared up within him now that must have come straight from the +devil's forge. Again the shadows played over the ceiling. His teeth +grated as he cocked his pistol, and pointed it down the beam of light +that shot into the heart of the apple-tree, and waited.</p> + +<p>The shadow of a head shot along the rafters and over the fireplace. It +was a madman clutching the butt of the pistol now, and as his eye caught +the glinting sight and his heart thumped, there stepped into the square +light of the window—a child!</p> + +<p>It was a boy with yellow tumbled hair, and he had a puppy in his arms. +In front of the fire the little fellow dropped the dog, and they began +to play.</p> + +<p>"Yap! yap! yap!"</p> + +<p>Buck could hear the shrill barking of the fat little dog, and the joyous +shrieks of the child as he made his playfellow chase his tail round and +round or tumbled him head over heels on the floor. It was the first +child Buck had seen for three years; it was <i>his</i> child and <i>hers</i>; +and, in the apple-tree, Buck watched fixedly.</p> + +<p>They were down on the floor now, rolling over and over together; and he +watched them until the child grew tired and turned his face to the fire +and lay still—looking into it. Buck could see his eyes close presently, +and then the puppy crept closer, put his head on his playmate's chest, +and the two lay thus asleep.</p> + +<p>And still Buck looked—his clasp loosening on his pistol and his lips +loosening under his stiff mustache—and kept looking until the door +opened again and the woman crossed the floor. A flood of light flashed +suddenly on the snow, barely touching the snow-hung tips of the +apple-tree, and he saw her in the doorway—saw her look anxiously into +the darkness—look and listen a long while.</p> + +<p>Buck dropped noiselessly to the snow when she closed the door. He +wondered what they would think when they saw his tracks in the snow next +morning; and then he realized that they would be covered before morning.</p> + +<p>As he started up the ravine where his horse was he heard the clink of +metal down the road and the splash of a horse's hoofs in the soft mud, +and he sank down behind a holly-bush.</p> + +<p>Again the light from the cabin flashed out on the snow.</p> + +<p>"That you, Jim?"</p> + +<p>"Yep!"</p> + +<p>And then the child's voice: "Has oo dot thum tandy?"</p> + +<p>"Yep!"</p> + +<p>The cheery answer rang out almost at Buck's ear, and Jim passed death +waiting for him behind the bush which his left foot brushed, shaking the +snow from the red berries down on the crouching figure beneath.</p> + +<p>Once only, far down the dark jungled way, with the underlying streak of +yellow that was leading him whither, God only knew—once only Buck +looked back. There was the red light gleaming faintly through the +moonlit flakes of snow. Once more he thought of the Star, and once more +the chaplain's voice came back to him.</p> + +<p>"Mine!" saith the Lord.</p> + +<p>Just how, Buck could not see with himself in the snow and <i>him</i> back +there for life with her and the child, but some strange impulse made him +bare his head.</p> + +<p>"Yourn," said Buck grimly.</p> + +<p>But nobody on Lonesome—not even Buck—knew that it was Christmas Eve.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 65%;"><br><br> +<a name="THE_ARMY_OF_THE_CALLAHAN"></a><h2>THE ARMY OF THE CALLAHAN</h2> +<br> + +<p>I</p> + +<p>The dreaded message had come. The lank messenger, who had brought it +from over Black Mountain, dropped into a chair by the stove and sank his +teeth into a great hunk of yellow cheese. "Flitter Bill" Richmond +waddled from behind his counter, and out on the little platform in front +of his cross-roads store. Out there was a group of earth-stained +countrymen, lounging against the rickety fence or swinging on it, their +heels clear of the ground, all whittling, chewing, and talking the +matter over. All looked up at Bill, and he looked down at them, running +his eye keenly from one to another until he came to one powerful young +fellow loosely bent over a wagon-tongue. Even on him, Bill's eyes stayed +but a moment, and then were lifted higher in anxious thought.</p> + +<p>The message had come at last, and the man who brought it had heard it +fall from Black Tom's own lips. The "wild Jay-Hawkers of Kaintuck" were +coming over into Virginia to get Flitter Bill's store, for they were +mountain Unionists and Bill was a valley rebel and lawful prey. It was +past belief. So long had he prospered, and so well, that Bill had come +to feel that he sat safe in the hollow of God's hand. But he now must +have protection—and at once—from the hand of man.</p> + +<p>Roaring Fork sang lustily through the rhododendrons. To the north yawned +"the Gap" through the Cumberland Mountains. "Callahan's Nose," a huge +gray rock, showed plain in the clear air, high above the young foliage, +and under it, and on up the rocky chasm, flashed Flitter Bill's keen +mind, reaching out for help.</p> + +<p>Now, from Virginia to Alabama the Southern mountaineer was a Yankee, +because the national spirit of 1776, getting fresh impetus in 1812 and +new life from the Mexican War, had never died out in the hills. Most +likely it would never have died out, anyway; for, the world over, any +seed of character, individual or national, that is once dropped between +lofty summits brings forth its kind, with deathless tenacity, year after +year. Only, in the Kentucky mountains, there were more slaveholders than +elsewhere in the mountains in the South. These, naturally, fought for +their slaves, and the division thus made the war personal and terrible +between the slaveholders who dared to stay at home, and the Union, +"Home Guards" who organized to drive them away. In Bill's little +Virginia valley, of course, most of the sturdy farmers had shouldered +Confederate muskets and gone to the war. Those who had stayed at home +were, like Bill, Confederate in sympathy, but they lived in safety down +the valley, while Bill traded and fattened just opposite the Gap, +through which a wild road ran over into the wild Kentucky hills. Therein +Bill's danger lay; for, just at this time, the Harlan Home Guard under +Black Tom, having cleared those hills, were making ready, like the Pict +and Scot of olden days, to descend on the Virginia valley and smite the +lowland rebels at the mouth of the Gap. Of the "stay-at-homes," and the +deserters roundabout, there were many, very many, who would "stand in" +with any man who would keep their bellies full, but they were well-nigh +worthless even with a leader, and, without a leader, of no good at all. +Flitter Bill must find a leader for them, and anywhere than in his own +fat self, for a leader of men Bill was not born to be, nor could he see +a leader among the men before him. And so, standing there one early +morning in the spring of 1865, with uplifted gaze, it was no surprise to +him—the coincidence, indeed, became at once one of the articles of +perfect faith in his own star—that he should see afar off, a black +slouch hat and a jogging gray horse rise above a little knoll that was +in line with the mouth of the Gap. At once he crossed his hands over his +chubby stomach with a pious sigh, and at once a plan of action began to +whirl in his little round head. Before man and beast were in full view +the work was done, the hands were unclasped, and Flitter Bill, with a +chuckle, had slowly risen, and was waddling back to his desk in the +store.</p> + +<p>It was a pompous old buck who was bearing down on the old gray horse, +and under the slouch hat with its flapping brim—one Mayhall Wells, by +name. There were but few strands of gray in his thick blue-black hair, +though his years were rounding half a century, and he sat the old nag +with erect dignity and perfect ease. His bearded mouth showed vanity +immeasurable, and suggested a strength of will that his eyes—the real +seat of power—denied, for, while shrewd and keen, they were unsteady. +In reality, he was a great coward, though strong as an ox, and whipping +with ease every man who could force him into a fight. So that, in the +whole man, a sensitive observer would have felt a peculiar pathos, as +though nature had given him a desire to be, and no power to become, and +had then sent him on his zigzag way, never to dream wherein his trouble +lay.</p> + +<p>"Mornin', gentle<i>men</i>!"</p> + +<p>"Mornin', Mayhall!"</p> + +<p>All nodded and spoke except Hence Sturgill on the wagon-tongue, who +stopped whittling, and merely looked at the big man with narrowing eyes.</p> + +<p>Tallow Dick, a yellow slave, appeared at the corner of the store, and +the old buck beckoned him to come and hitch his horse. Flitter Bill had +reappeared on the stoop with a piece of white paper in his hand. The +lank messenger sagged in the doorway behind him, ready to start for +home.</p> + +<p>"Mornin' <i>Captain</i> Wells," said Bill, with great respect. Every man +heard the title, stopped his tongue and his knife-blade, and raised his +eyes; a few smiled—Hence Sturgill grinned. Mayhall stared, and Bill's +left eye closed and opened with lightning quickness in a most portentous +wink. Mayhall straightened his shoulders—seeing the game, as did the +crowd at once: Flitter Bill was impressing that messenger in case he had +some dangerous card up his sleeve.</p> + +<p>"<i>Captain</i> Wells," Bill repeated significantly, "I'm sorry to say yo' +new uniform has not arrived yet. I am expecting it to-morrow." Mayhall +toed the line with soldierly promptness.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm sorry to hear that, suh—sorry to hear it, suh," he said, +with slow, measured speech. "My men are comin' in fast, and you can +hardly realize er—er what it means to an old soldier er—er not to +have—er—" And Mayhall's answering wink was portentous.</p> + +<p>"My friend here is from over in Kaintucky, and the Harlan Home Gyard +over there, he says, is a-making some threats."</p> + +<p>Mayhall laughed.</p> + +<p>"So I have heerd—so I have heerd." He turned to the messenger. "We +shall be ready fer 'em, suh, ready fer 'em with a thousand men—one +thousand men, suh, right hyeh in the Gap—right hyeh in the Gap. Let 'em +come on—let 'em come on!" Mayhall began to rub his hands together as +though the conflict were close at hand, and the mountaineer slapped one +thigh heartily. "Good for you! Give 'em hell!" He was about to slap +Mayhall on the shoulder and call him "pardner," when Flitter Bill +coughed, and Mayhall lifted his chin.</p> + +<p>"Captain Wells?" said Bill.</p> + +<p>"Captain Wells," repeated Mayhall with a stiff salutation, and the +messenger from over Black Mountain fell back with an apologetic laugh. A +few minutes later both Mayhall and Flitter Bill saw him shaking his +head, as he started homeward toward the Gap. Bill laughed silently, but +Mayhall had grown grave. The fun was over and he beckoned Bill inside +the store.</p> + +<p>"Misto Richmond," he said, with hesitancy and an entire change of tone +and manner, "I am afeerd I ain't goin' to be able to pay you that little +amount I owe you, but if you can give me a little mo' time—"</p> + +<p>"Captain Wells," interrupted Bill slowly, and again Mayhall stared hard +at him, "as betwixt friends, as have been pussonal friends fer nigh onto +twenty year, I hope you won't mention that little matter to me +ag'in—until I mentions it to you."</p> + +<p>"But, Misto Richmond, Hence Sturgill out thar says as how he heerd you +say that if I didn't pay—"</p> + +<p>"<i>Captain</i> Wells," interrupted Bill again and again Mayhall stared +hard—it was strange that Bill could have formed the habit of calling +him "Captain" in so short a time—"yestiddy is not to-day, is it? And +to-day is not to-morrow? I axe you—have I said one word about that +little matter <i>to-day?</i> Well, borrow not from yestiddy nor to-morrow, to +make trouble fer to-day. There is other things fer to-day, Captain +Wells."</p> + +<p>Mayhall turned here.</p> + +<p>"Misto Richmond," he said, with great earnestness, "you may not know it, +but three times since thet long-legged jay-hawker's been gone you hev +plainly—and if my ears do not deceive me, an' they never hev—you have +plainly called me '<i>Captain</i> Wells.' I knowed yo' little trick whilst he +was hyeh, fer I knowed whut the feller had come to tell ye; but since +he's been gone, three times, Misto Richmond—"</p> + +<p>"Yes," drawled Bill, with an unction that was strangely sweet to +Mayhall's wondering ears, "an' I do it ag'in, <i>Captain</i> Wells."</p> + +<p>"An' may I axe you," said Mayhall, ruffling a little, "may I axe +you—why you—"</p> + +<p>"Certainly," said Bill, and he handed over the paper that he held in his +hand.</p> + +<p>Mayhall took the paper and looked it up and down helplessly—Flitter +Bill slyly watching him.</p> + +<p>Mayhall handed it back. "If you please, Misto Richmond—I left my specs +at home." Without a smile, Bill began. It was an order from the +commandant at Cumberland Gap, sixty miles farther down Powell's Valley, +authorizing Mayhall Wells to form a company to guard the Gap and to +protect the property of Confederate citizens in the valley; and a +commission of captaincy in the said company for the said Mayhall Wells. +Mayhall's mouth widened to the full stretch of his lean jaws, and, when +Bill was through reading, he silently reached for the paper and looked +it up and down and over and over, muttering:</p> + +<p>"Well—well—well!" And then he pointed silently to the name that was at +the bottom of the paper.</p> + +<p>Bill spelled out the name:</p> + +<p>"<i>Jefferson Davis</i>" and Mayhall's big fingers trembled as he pulled them +away, as though to avoid further desecration of that sacred name.</p> + +<p>Then he rose, and a magical transformation began that can be likened—I +speak with reverence—to the turning of water into wine. Captain Mayhall +Wells raised his head, set his chin well in, and kept it there. He +straightened his shoulders, and kept them straight. He paced the floor +with a tread that was martial, and once he stopped before the door with +his right hand thrust under his breast-pocket, and with wrinkling brow +studied the hills. It was a new man—with the water in his blood changed +to wine—who turned suddenly on Flitter Bill Richmond:</p> + +<p>"I can collect a vehy large force in a vehy few days." Flitter Bill knew +that—that he could get together every loafer between the county-seat of +Wise and the county-seat of Lee—but he only said encouragingly:</p> + +<p>"Good!"</p> + +<p>"An' we air to pertect the property—<i>I</i> am to pertect the property of +the Confederate citizens of the valley—that means <i>you</i>, Misto +Richmond, and <i>this store</i>."</p> + +<p>Bill nodded.</p> + +<p>Mayhall coughed slightly. "There is one thing in the way, I opine. +Whar—I axe you—air we to git somethin' to eat fer my command?" Bill +had anticipated this.</p> + +<p>"I'll take keer o' that."</p> + +<p>Captain Wells rubbed his hands.</p> + +<p>"Of co'se, of co'se—you are a soldier and a patriot—you can afford to +feed 'em as a slight return fer the pertection I shall give you and +yourn."</p> + +<p>"Certainly," agreed Bill dryly, and with a prophetic stir of uneasiness.</p> + +<p>"Vehy—vehy well. I shall begin <i>now</i>, Misto Richmond." And, to Flitter +Bill's wonder, the captain stalked out to the stoop, announced his +purpose with the voice of an auctioneer, and called for volunteers then +and there. There was dead silence for a moment. Then there was a smile +here, a chuckle there, an incredulous laugh, and Hence Sturgill, "bully +of the Pocket," rose from the wagon-tongue, closed his knife, came +slowly forward, and cackled his scorn straight up into the teeth of +Captain Mayhall Wells. The captain looked down and began to shed his +coat.</p> + +<p>"I take it, Hence Sturgill, that you air laughin' at me?"</p> + +<p>"I am a-laughin' at <i>you</i>, Mayhall Wells," he said, contemptuously, but +he was surprised at the look on the good-natured giant's face.</p> + +<p>"<i>Captain</i> Mayhall Wells, ef you please."</p> + +<a name="Captain" href="Illus0103.jpg"><img src="Illus0103-t.jpg" align="left" alt="Captain Wells descended with no little majesty and +"biffed" him"></a> + +<p>"Plain ole Mayhall Wells," said Hence, and Captain Wells descended with +no little majesty and "biffed" him.</p> + +<p>The delighted crowd rose to its feet and gathered around. Tallow Dick +came running from the barn. It was biff—biff, and biff again, but not +nip and tuck for long. Captain Mayhall closed in. Hence Sturgill struck +the earth like a Homeric pine, and the captain's mighty arm played above +him and fell, resounding. In three minutes Hence, to the amazement of +the crowd, roared:</p> + +<p>"'Nough!"</p> + +<p>But Mayhall breathed hard and said quietly:</p> + +<p>"<i>Captain</i> Wells!":</p> + +<p>Hence shouted, "Plain ole—" But the captain's huge fist was poised in +the air over his face.</p> + +<p>"Captain Wells," he growled, and the captain rose and calmly put on his +coat, while the crowd looked respectful, and Hence Sturgill staggered to +one side, as though beaten in spirit, strength, and wits as well. The +captain beckoned Flitter Bill inside the store. His manner had a +distinct savor of patronage.</p> + +<p>"Misto Richmond," he said, "I make you—I appoint you, by the authority +of Jefferson Davis and the Confederate States of Ameriky, as +commissary-gineral of the Army of the Callahan."</p> + +<p>"As <i>what</i>?" Bill's eyes blinked at the astounding dignity of his +commission.</p> + +<p>"Gineral Richmond, I shall not repeat them words." And he didn't, but +rose and made his way toward his old gray mare. Tallow Dick held his +bridle.</p> + +<p>"Dick," he said jocosely, "goin' to run away ag'in?" The negro almost +paled, and then, with a look at a blacksnake whip that hung on the barn +door, grinned.</p> + +<p>"No, suh—no, suh—'deed I ain't, suh—no mo'."</p> + +<p>Mounted, the captain dropped a three-cent silver piece in the startled +negro's hand. Then he vouchsafed the wondering Flitter Bill and the +gaping crowd a military salute and started for the yawning mouth of the +Gap—riding with shoulders squared and chin well in—riding as should +ride the commander of the Army of the Callahan.</p> + +<p>Flitter Bill dropped his blinking eyes to the paper in his hand that +bore the commission of Jefferson Davis and the Confederate States of +America to Mayhall Wells of Callahan, and went back into his store. He +looked at it a long time and then he laughed, but without much mirth.</p> + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 65%;"><br><br> +<a name="II"></a><h2>II</h2> + +<p>Grass had little chance to grow for three weeks thereafter under the +cowhide boots of Captain Mayhall Wells. When the twentieth morning came +over the hills, the mist parted over the Stars and Bars floating from +the top of a tall poplar up through the Gap and flaunting brave defiance +to Black Tom, his Harlan Home Guard, and all other jay-hawking Unionists +of the Kentucky hills. It parted over the Army of the Callahan asleep on +its arms in the mouth of the chasm, over Flitter Bill sitting, sullen +and dejected, on the stoop of his store; and over Tallow Dick stealing +corn bread from the kitchen to make ready for flight that night through +the Gap, the mountains, and to the yellow river that was the Mecca of +the runaway slave.</p> + +<p>At the mouth of the Gap a ragged private stood before a ragged tent, +raised a long dinner horn to his lips, and a mighty blast rang through +the hills, reveille! And out poured the Army of the Callahan from shack, +rock-cave, and coverts of sticks and leaves, with squirrel rifles, +Revolutionary muskets, shotguns, clasp-knives, and horse pistols for +the duties of the day under Lieutenant Skaggs, tactician, and Lieutenant +Boggs, quondam terror of Roaring Fork.</p> + +<p>That blast rang down the valley into Flitter Bill's ears and startled +him into action. It brought Tallow Dick's head out of the barn door and +made him grin.</p> + +<p>"Dick!" Flitter Bill's call was sharp and angry.</p> + +<p>"Yes, suh!"</p> + +<p>"Go tell ole Mayhall Wells that I ain't goin' to send him nary another +pound o' bacon an' nary another tin cup o' meal—no, by ----, I ain't."</p> + +<p>Half an hour later the negro stood before the ragged tent of the +commander of the Army of the Callahan.</p> + +<p>"Marse Bill say he ain't gwine to sen' you no mo' rations—no mo'."</p> + +<p>"<i>What</i>!"</p> + +<p>Tallow Dick repeated his message and the captain scowled—mutiny!</p> + +<p>"Fetch my hoss!" he thundered.</p> + +<p>Very naturally and very swiftly had the trouble come, for straight after +the captain's fight with Hence Sturgill there had been a mighty rally to +the standard of Mayhall Wells. From Pigeon's Creek the loafers +came—from Roaring Fork, Cracker's Neck, from the Pocket down the +valley, and from Turkey Cove. Recruits came so fast, and to such +proportions grew the Army of the Callahan, that Flitter Bill shrewdly +suggested at once that Captain Wells divide it into three companies and +put one up Pigeon's Creek under Lieutenant Jim Skaggs and one on +Callahan under Lieutenant Tom Boggs, while the captain, with a third, +should guard the mouth of the Gap. Bill's idea was to share with those +districts the honor of his commissary-generalship; but Captain Wells +crushed the plan like a dried puffball.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said, with fine sarcasm. "What will them Kanetuckians do then? +Don't you know, Gineral Richmond? Why, I'll tell you what they'll do. +They'll jest swoop down on Lieutenant Boggs and gobble him up. Then +they'll swoop down on Lieutenant Skaggs on Pigeon and gobble him up. +Then they'll swoop down on me and gobble me up. No, they won't gobble +<i>me</i> up, but they'll come damn nigh it. An' what kind of a report will I +make to Jeff Davis, Gineral Richmond? <i>Captured In detail</i>, suh? No, +suh. I'll jest keep Lieutenant Boggs and Lieutenant Skaggs close by me, +and we'll pitch our camp right here in the Gap whar we can pertect the +property of Confederate citizens and be close to our base o' supplies, +suh. That's what I'll do!"</p> + +<p>"Gineral Richmond" groaned, and when in the next breath the mighty +captain casually inquired if <i>that uniform of his</i> had come yet, Flitter +Bill's fat body nearly rolled off his chair.</p> + +<p>"You will please have it here next Monday," said the captain, with great +firmness. "It is necessary to the proper discipline of my troops." And +it was there the following Monday—a regimental coat, gray jeans +trousers, and a forage cap that Bill purchased from a passing Morgan +raider. Daily orders would come from Captain Wells to General Flitter +Bill Richmond to send up more rations, and Bill groaned afresh when a +man from Callahan told how the captain's family was sprucing up on meal +and flour and bacon from the captain's camp. Humiliation followed. It +had never occurred to Captain Wells that being a captain made it +incongruous for him to have a "general" under him, until Lieutenant +Skaggs, who had picked up a manual of tactics somewhere, cautiously +communicated his discovery. Captain Wells saw the point at once. There +was but one thing to do—to reduce General Richmond to the ranks—and it +was done. Technically, thereafter, the general was purveyor for the Army +of the Callahan, but to the captain himself he was—gallingly to the +purveyor—simple Flitter Bill.</p> + +<p>The strange thing was that, contrary to his usual shrewdness, it should +have taken Flitter Bill so long to see that the difference between +having his store robbed by the Kentucky jay-hawkers and looted by +Captain Wells was the difference between tweedle-dum and tweedle-dee, +but, when he did see, he forged a plan of relief at once. When the +captain sent down Lieutenant Boggs for a supply of rations, Bill sent +the saltiest, rankest bacon he could find, with a message that he wanted +to see the great man. As before, when Captain Wells rode down to the +store, Bill handed out a piece of paper, and, as before, the captain had +left his "specs" at home. The paper was an order that, whereas the +distinguished services of Captain Wells to the Confederacy were +appreciated by Jefferson Davis, the said Captain Wells was, and is, +hereby empowered to duly, and in accordance with the tactics of war, +impress what live-stock he shall see fit and determine fit for the good +of his command. The news was joy to the Army of the Callahan. Before it +had gone the rounds of the camp Lieutenant Boggs had spied a fat heifer +browsing on the edge of the woods and ordered her surrounded and driven +down. Without another word, when she was close enough, he raised his +gun and would have shot her dead in her tracks had he not been arrested +by a yell of command and horror from his superior.</p> + +<p>"Air you a-goin' to have me cashiered and shot, Lieutenant Boggs, fer +violatin' the ticktacks of war?" roared the captain, indignantly. "Don't +you know that I've got to <i>impress</i> that heifer accordin' to the rules +an' regulations? Git roun' that heifer." The men surrounded her. "Take +her by the horns. Now! In the name of Jefferson Davis and the +Confederate States of Ameriky, I hereby and hereon do duly impress this +heifer for the purposes and use of the Army of the Callahan, so help me +God! Shoot her down, Bill Boggs, shoot her down!"</p> + +<p>Now, naturally, the soldiers preferred fresh meat, and they got +it—impressing cattle, sheep, and hogs, geese, chickens, and ducks, +vegetables—nothing escaped the capacious maw of the Army of the +Callahan. It was a beautiful idea, and the success of it pleased Flitter +Bill mightily, but the relief did not last long. An indignant murmur +rose up and down valley and creek bottom against the outrages, and one +angry old farmer took a pot-shot at Captain Wells with a squirrel rifle, +clipping the visor of his forage cap; and from that day the captain +began to call with immutable regularity again on Flitter Bill for bacon +and meal. That morning the last straw fell in a demand for a wagon-load +of rations to be delivered before noon, and, worn to the edge of his +patience, Bill had sent a reckless refusal. And now he was waiting on +the stoop of his store, looking at the mouth of the Gap and waiting for +it to give out into the valley Captain Wells and his old gray mare. And +at last, late in the afternoon, there was the captain coming—coming at +a swift gallop—and Bill steeled himself for the onslaught like a knight +in a joust against a charging antagonist. The captain saluted +stiffly—pulling up sharply and making no move to dismount.</p> + +<p>"Purveyor," he said, "Black Tom has just sent word that he's a-comin' +over hyeh this week—have you heerd that, purveyor?" Bill was silent.</p> + +<p>"Black Tom says you <i>air</i> responsible for the Army of the Callahan. Have +you heerd that, purveyor?" Still was there silence.</p> + +<p>"He says he's a-goin' to hang me to that poplar whar floats them Stars +and Bars"—Captain Mayhall Wells chuckled—"an' he says he's a-goin' to +hang <i>you</i> thar fust, though; have you heerd <i>that</i>, purveyor?"</p> + +<p>The captain dropped the titular address now, and threw one leg over the +pommel of his saddle.</p> + +<p>"Flitter Bill Richmond," he said, with great nonchalance, "I axe you—do +you prefer that I should disband the Army of the Callahan, or do you +not?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>The captain was silent a full minute, and his face grew stern. "Flitter +Bill Richmond, I had no idee o' disbandin' the Army of the Callahan, but +do you know what I did aim to do?" Again Bill was silent.</p> + +<p>"Well, suh, I'll tell you whut I aim to do. If you don't send them +rations I'll have you cashiered for mutiny, an' if Black Tom don't hang +you to that air poplar, I'll hang you thar myself, suh; yes, by ----! I +will. Dick!" he called sharply to the slave. "Hitch up that air wagon, +fill hit full o' bacon and meal, and drive it up thar to my tent. An' be +mighty damn quick about it, or I'll hang you, too."</p> + +<p>The negro gave a swift glance to his master, and Flitter Bill feebly +waved acquiescence.</p> + +<p>"Purveyor, I wish you good-day."</p> + +<p>Bill gazed after the great captain in dazed wonder (was this the man who +had come cringing to him only a few short weeks ago?) and groaned aloud.</p> + +<p>But for lucky or unlucky coincidence, how could the prophet ever have +gained name and fame on earth?</p> + +<p>Captain Wells rode back to camp chuckling—chuckling with satisfaction +and pride; but the chuckle passed when he caught sight of his tent. In +front of it were his lieutenants and some half a dozen privates, all +plainly in great agitation, and in the midst of them stood the lank +messenger who had brought the first message from Black Tom, delivering +another from the same source. Black Tom <i>was</i> coming, coming surer and +unless that flag, that "Rebel rag," were hauled down under twenty-four +hours, Black Tom would come over and pull it down, and to that same +poplar hang "Captain Mayhall an' his whole damn army." Black Tom might +do it anyhow—just for fun.</p> + +<p>While the privates listened the captain strutted and swore; then he +rested his hand on his hip and smiled with silent sarcasm, and then +swore again—while the respectful lieutenants and the awed soldiery of +the Callahan looked on. Finally he spoke.</p> + +<p>"Ah—when did Black Tom say that?" he inquired casually.</p> + +<p>"Yestiddy mornin'. He said he was goin' to start over hyeh early this +mornin'." The captain whirled.</p> + +<p>"What? Then why didn't you git over hyeh <i>this</i> mornin'?"</p> + +<p>"Couldn't git across the river last night."</p> + +<p>"Then he's a-comin' to-day?"</p> + +<p>"I reckon Black Tom'll be hyeh in about two hours—mebbe he ain't fer +away now." The captain was startled.</p> + +<p>"Lieutenant Skaggs," he called, sharply, "git yo' men out thar an' draw +'em up in two rows!"</p> + +<p>The face of the student of military tactics looked horrified. The +captain in his excitement had relaxed into language that was distinctly +agricultural, and, catching the look on his subordinate's face, and at +the same time the reason for it, he roared, indignantly:</p> + +<p>"Air you afeer'd, sir? Git yo' men out, I said, an' march 'em up thar in +front of the Gap. Lieutenant Boggs, take ten men and march at double +quick through the Gap, an' defend that poplar with yo' life's blood. If +you air overwhelmed by superior numbers, fall back, suh, step by step, +until you air re-enforced by Lieutenant Skaggs. If you two air not able +to hold the enemy in check, you may count on me an' the Army of the +Callahan to grind <i>him</i>—" (How the captain, now thoroughly aroused to +all the fine terms of war, did roll that technical "him" under his +tongue)—"to grind him to pieces ag'in them towerin' rocks, and plunge +him in the foilin' waters of Roarin' Fawk. Forward, suh—double quick." +Lieutenant Skaggs touched his cap. Lieutenant Boggs looked embarrassed +and strode nearer.</p> + +<p>"Captain, whar am I goin' to git ten men to face them Kanetuckians?"</p> + +<p>"Whar air they goin' to git a off'cer to lead 'em, you'd better say," +said the captain, severely, fearing that some of the soldiers had heard +the question. "If you air afeer'd, suh"—and then he saw that no one had +heard, and he winked—winked with most unmilitary familiarity.</p> + +<p>"Air you a good climber, Lieutenant Boggs?" Lieutenant Boggs looked +mystified, but he said he was.</p> + +<p>"Lieutenant Boggs, I now give you the opportunity to show yo' profound +knowledge of the ticktacks of war. You may now be guilty of disobedience +of ordahs, and I will not have you court-martialled for the same. In +other words, if, after a survey of the situation, you think best—why," +the captain's voice dropped to a hoarse whisper, "pull that flag down, +lieutenant Boggs, pull her down."</p> + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 65%;"><br><br> +<a name="III"></a><h2>III</h2> + +<p>It was an hour by sun now. Lieutenant Boggs and his devoted band of ten +were making their way slowly and watchfully up the mighty chasm—the +lieutenant with his hand on his sword and his head bare, and bowed in +thought. The Kentuckians were on their way—at that moment they might be +riding full speed toward the mouth of Pigeon, where floated the flag. +They might gobble him and his command up when they emerged from the Gap. +Suppose they caught him up that tree. His command might escape, but <i>he</i> +would be up there, saving them the trouble of stringing him up. All they +would have to do would be to send up after him a man with a rope, and +let him drop. That was enough. Lieutenant Boggs called a halt and +explained the real purpose of the expedition.</p> + +<p>"We will wait here till dark," he said, "so them Kanetuckians can't +ketch us, whilst we are climbing that tree."</p> + +<p>And so they waited opposite Bee Rock, which was making ready to blossom +with purple rhododendrons. And the reserve back in the Gap, under +Lieutenant Skaggs, waited. Waited, too, the Army of the Callahan at the +mouth of the Gap, and waited restlessly Captain Wells at the door of his +tent, and Flitter Bill on the stoop of his store—waited everybody but +Tallow Dick, who, in the general confusion, was slipping through the +rhododendrons along the bank of Roaring Fork, until he could climb the +mountain-side and slip through the Gap high over the army's head.</p> + +<p>What could have happened?</p> + +<p>When dusk was falling, Captain Wells dispatched a messenger to +Lieutenant Skaggs and his reserve, and got an answer; Lieutenant Skaggs +feared that Boggs had been captured without the firing of a single +shot—but the flag was floating still. An hour later, Lieutenant Skaggs +sent another message—he could not see the flag. Captain Wells answered, +stoutly:</p> + +<p>"Hold yo' own."</p> + +<p>And so, as darkness fell, the Army of the Callahan waited in the strain +of mortal expectancy as one man; and Flitter Bill waited, with his horse +standing saddled in the barn, ready for swift flight. And, as darkness +fell, Tallow Dick was cautiously picking his way alongside the steep +wall of the Gap toward freedom, and picking it with stealthy caution, +foot by foot; for up there, to this day, big loose rocks mount halfway +to the jagged points of the black cliffs, and a careless step would have +detached one and sent an avalanche of rumbling stones down to betray +him. A single shot rang suddenly out far up through the Gap, and the +startled negro sprang forward, slipped, and, with a low, frightened +oath, lay still. Another shot followed, and another. Then a hoarse +murmur rose, loudened into thunder, and ended in a frightful—boom! One +yell rang from the army's throat:</p> + +<p>"The Kentuckians! The Kentuckians! The wild, long-haired, terrible +Kentuckians!"</p> + +<p>Captain Wells sprang into the air.</p> + +<p>"My God, they've got a cannon!"</p> + +<p>Then there was a martial chorus—the crack of rifle, the hoarse cough of +horse-pistol, the roar of old muskets.</p> + +<p>"Bing! Bang! Boom! Bing—bing! Bang—bang! Boom—boom! +Bing—bang—boom!"</p> + +<p>Lieutenant Skaggs and his reserves heard the beat of running feet down +the Gap.</p> + +<p>"They've gobbled Boggs," he said, and the reserve rushed after him as he +fled. The army heard the beat of their coming feet.</p> + +<p>"They've gobbled Skaggs," the army said.</p> + +<p>Then was there bedlam as the army fled—a crashing through bushes—a +splashing into the river, the rumble of mule wagons, yells of terror, +swift flying shapes through the pale moonlight. Flitter Bill heard the +din as he stood by his barn door.</p> + +<p>"They've gobbled the army," said Flitter Bill, and he, too, fled like a +shadow down the valley.</p> + +<p>Nature never explodes such wild and senseless energy as when she lets +loose a mob in a panic. With the army, it was each man for himself and +devil take the hindmost; and the flight of the army was like a flight +from the very devil himself. Lieutenant Boggs, whose feet were the +swiftest in the hills, outstripped his devoted band. Lieutenant Skaggs, +being fat and slow, fell far behind his reserve, and dropped exhausted +on a rock for a moment to get his breath. As he rose, panting, to resume +flight, a figure bounded out of the darkness behind him, and he gathered +it in silently and went with it to the ground, where both fought +silently in the dust until they rolled into the moonlight and each +looked the other in the face.</p> + +<p>"That you, Jim Skaggs?"</p> + +<p>"That you, Tom Boggs?"</p> + +<p>Then the two lieutenants rose swiftly, but a third shape bounded into +the road—a gigantic figure—Black Tom! With a startled yell they +gathered him in—one by the waist, the other about the neck, and, for a +moment, the terrible Kentuckian—it could be none other—swung the two +clear of the ground, but the doughty lieutenants hung to him. Boggs +trying to get his knife and Skaggs his pistol, and all went down in a +heap.</p> + +<p>"I surrender—I surrender!" It was the giant who spoke, and at the sound +of his voice both men ceased to struggle, and, strange to say, no one of +the three laughed.</p> + +<p>"Lieutenant Boggs," said Captain Wells, thickly, "take yo' thumb out o' +my mouth. Lieutenant Skaggs, leggo my leg an' stop bitin' me."</p> + +<p>"Sh—sh—sh—" said all three.</p> + +<p>The faint swish of bushes as Lieutenant Boggs's ten men scuttled into +the brush behind them—the distant beat of the army's feet getting +fainter ahead of them, and then silence—dead, dead silence.</p> + +<p>"Sh—sh—sh!"</p> + +<p>With the red streaks of dawn Captain Mayhall Wells was pacing up and +down in front of Flitter Bill's store, a gaping crowd about him, and the +shattered remnants of the army drawn up along Roaring Fork in the rear. +An hour later Flitter Bill rode calmly in.</p> + +<p>"I stayed all night down the valley," said Flitter Bill. "Uncle Jim +Richmond was sick. I hear you had some trouble last night, Captain +Wells." The captain expanded his chest.</p> + +<p>"Trouble!" he repeated, sarcastically. And then he told how a charging +horde of daredevils had driven him from camp with overwhelming numbers +and one piece of artillery; how he had rallied the army and fought them +back, foot by foot, and put them to fearful rout; how the army had +fallen back again just when the Kentuckians were running like sheep, and +how he himself had stayed in the rear with Lieutenant Boggs and +Lieutenant Skaggs, "to cover their retreat, suh," and how the purveyor, +if he would just go up through the Gap, would doubtless find the cannon +that the enemy had left behind in their flight. It was just while he was +thus telling the tale for the twentieth time that two figures appeared +over the brow of the hill and drew near—Hence Sturgill on horseback and +Tallow Dick on foot.</p> + +<p>"I ketched this nigger in my corn-fiel' this mornin'," said Hence, +simply, and Flitter Bill glared, and without a word went for the +blacksnake ox-whip that hung by the barn door.</p> + +<p>For the twenty-first time Captain Wells started his tale again, and with +every pause that he made for breath Hence cackled scorn.</p> + +<p>"An', Hence Sturgill, ef you will jus' go up in the Gap you'll find a +cannon, captured, suh, by me an' the Army of the Callahan, an'—"</p> + +<a name="Speak" href="Illus0104.jpg"><img src="Illus0104-t.jpg" align="left" alt=""Speak up, nigger.""></a> + +<p>"Cannon!" Hence broke in. "Speak up, nigger!" And Tallow Dick spoke +up—grinning:</p> + +<p>"I done it!"</p> + +<p>"What!" shouted Flitter Bill.</p> + +<p>"I kicked a rock loose climbin' over Callahan's Nose."</p> + +<p>Bill dropped his whip with a chuckle of pure ecstasy. Mayhall paled and +stared. The crowd roared, the Army of the Callahan grinned, and Hence +climbed back on his horse.</p> + +<p>"Mayhall Wells," he said, "plain ole Mayhall Wells, I'll see you on +Couht Day. I ain't got time now."</p> + +<p>And he rode away.</p> + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 65%;"><br><br> +<a name="IV"></a><h2>IV</h2> + +<p>That day Captain Mayhall Wells and the Army of the Callahan were in +disrepute. Next day the awful news of Lee's surrender came. Captain +Wells refused to believe it, and still made heroic effort to keep his +shattered command together. Looking for recruits on Court Day, he was +twitted about the rout of the army by Hence Sturgill, whose long-coveted +chance to redeem himself had come. Again, as several times before, the +captain declined to fight—his health was essential to the general +well-being—but Hence laughed in his face, and the captain had to face +the music, though the heart of him was gone.</p> + +<p>He fought well, for he was fighting for his all, and he knew it. He +could have whipped with ease, and he did whip, but the spirit of the +thoroughbred was not in Captain Mayhall Wells. He had Sturgill down, but +Hence sank his teeth into Mayhall's thigh while Mayhall's hands grasped +his opponent's throat. The captain had only to squeeze, as every +rough-and-tumble fighter knew, and endure his pain until Hence would +have to give in. But Mayhall was not built to endure. He roared like a +bull as soon as the teeth met in his flesh, his fingers relaxed, and to +the disgusted surprise of everybody he began to roar with great +distinctness and agony:</p> + +<p>"'Nough! 'Nough!"</p> + +<p>The end was come, and nobody knew it better than Mayhall Wells. He rode +home that night with hands folded on the pommel of his saddle and his +beard crushed by his chin against his breast. For the last time, next +morning he rode down to Flitter Bill's store. On the way he met Parson +Kilburn and for the last time Mayhall Wells straightened his shoulders +and for one moment more resumed his part: perhaps the parson had not +heard of his fall.</p> + +<p>"Good-mornin', parsing," he said, pleasantly. "Ah—where have you been?" +The parson was returning from Cumberland Gap, whither he had gone to +take the oath of allegiance.</p> + +<p>"By the way, I have something here for you which Flitter Bill asked me +to give you. He said it was from the commandant at Cumberland Gap."</p> + +<p>"Fer me?" asked the captain—hope springing anew in his heart. The +parson handed him a letter. Mayhall looked at it upside down.</p> + +<p>"If you please, parsing," he said, handing it back, "I hev left my +specs at home."</p> + +<p>The parson read that, whereas Captain Wells had been guilty of grave +misdemeanors while in command of the Army of the Callahan, he should be +arrested and court-martialled for the same, or be given the privilege of +leaving the county in twenty-four hours. Mayhall's face paled a little +and he stroked his beard.</p> + +<p>"Ah—does anybody but you know about this ordah, parsing?"</p> + +<p>"Nobody."</p> + +<p>"Well, if you will do me the great favor, parsing, of not mentioning it +to nary a living soul—as fer me and my ole gray hoss and my household +furniture—we'll be in Kanetuck afore daybreak to-morrow mornin'!" And +he was.</p> + +<p>But he rode on just then and presented himself for the last time at the +store of Flitter Bill. Bill was sitting on the stoop in his favorite +posture. And in a moment there stood before him plain Mayhall +Wells—holding out the order Bill had given the parson that day.</p> + +<p>"Misto Richmond," he said, "I have come to tell you good-by."</p> + +<p>Now just above the selfish layers of fat under Flitter Bill's chubby +hands was a very kind heart. When he saw Mayhall's old manner and heard +the old respectful way of address, and felt the dazed helplessness of +the big, beaten man, the heart thumped.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry about that little amount I owe you; I think I'll be able +shortly—" But Bill cut him short. Mayhall Wells, beaten, disgraced, +driven from home on charge of petty crimes, of which he was undoubtedly +guilty, but for which Bill knew he himself was responsible—Mayhall on +his way into exile and still persuading himself and, at that moment, +almost persuading him that he meant to pay that little debt of long +ago—was too much for Flitter Bill, and he proceeded to lie—lying with +deliberation and pleasure.</p> + +<p>"Captain Wells," he said—and the emphasis on the title was balm to +Mayhall's soul—"you have protected me in time of war, an' you air +welcome to yo' uniform an' you air welcome to that little debt. Yes," he +went on, reaching down into his pocket and pulling out a roll of bills, +"I tender you in payment for that same protection the regular pay of a +officer in the Confederate service"—and he handed out the army pay for +three months in Confederate greenbacks—"an' five dollars in money of +the United States, of which I an', doubtless, you, suh, air true and +loyal citizens. Captain Wells, I bid you good-by an' I wish ye well—I +wish ye well."</p> + +<p>From the stoop of his store Bill watched the captain ride away, +drooping at the shoulders, and with his hands folded on the pommel of +his saddle—his dim blue eyes misty, the jaunty forage cap a mockery of +his iron-gray hair, and the flaps of his coat fanning either side like +mournful wings.</p> + +<p>And Flitter Bill muttered to himself:</p> + +<p>"Atter he's gone long enough fer these things to blow over, I'm going to +bring him back and give him another chance—yes, damme if I don't git +him back."</p> + +<p>And Bill dropped his remorseful eye to the order in his hand. Like the +handwriting of the order that lifted Mayhall like magic into power, the +handwriting of this order, that dropped him like a stone—was Flitter +Bill's own.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 65%;"><br><br> +<a name="THE_PARDON_OF_BECKY_DAY"></a><h2>THE PARDON OF BECKY DAY</h2> +<br> + +<p>The missionary was young and she was from the North. Her brows were +straight, her nose was rather high, and her eyes were clear and gray. +The upper lip of her little mouth was so short that the teeth just under +it were never quite concealed. It was the mouth of a child and it gave +the face, with all its strength and high purpose, a peculiar pathos that +no soul in that little mountain town had the power to see or feel. A +yellow mule was hitched to the rickety fence in front of her and she +stood on the stoop of a little white frame-house with an elm switch +between her teeth and gloves on her hands, which were white and looked +strong. The mule wore a man's saddle, but no matter—the streets were +full of yellow pools, the mud was ankle-deep, and she was on her way to +the sick-bed of Becky Day.</p> + +<p>There was a flood that morning. All the preceding day the rains had +drenched the high slopes unceasingly. That night, the rain-clear forks +of the Kentucky got yellow and rose high, and now they crashed together +around the town and, after a heaving conflict, started the river on one +quivering, majestic sweep to the sea.</p> + +<p>Nobody gave heed that the girl rode a mule or that the saddle was not +her own, and both facts she herself quickly forgot. This half log, half +frame house on a corner had stood a siege once. She could yet see bullet +holes about the door. Through this window, a revenue officer from the +Blue Grass had got a bullet in the shoulder from a garden in the rear. +Standing in the post-office door only just one month before, she herself +had seen children scurrying like rabbits through the back-yard fences, +men running silently here and there, men dodging into doorways, fire +flashing in the street and from every house—and not a sound but the +crack of pistol and Winchester; for the mountain men deal death in all +the terrible silence of death. And now a preacher with a long scar +across his forehead had come to the one little church in the place and +the fervor of religion was struggling with feudal hate for possession of +the town. To the girl, who saw a symbol in every mood of the earth, the +passions of these primitive people were like the treacherous streams of +the uplands—now quiet as sunny skies and now clashing together with but +little less fury and with much more noise. And the roar of the flood +above the wind that late afternoon was the wrath of the Father, that +with the peace of the Son so long on earth, such things still could be. +Once more trouble was threatening and that day even she knew that +trouble might come, but she rode without fear, for she went when and +where she pleased as any woman can, throughout the Cumberland, without +insult or harm.</p> + +<p>At the end of the street were two houses that seemed to front each other +with unmistakable enmity. In them were two men who had wounded each +other only the day before, and who that day would lead the factions, if +the old feud broke loose again. One house was close to the frothing hem +of the flood—a log-hut with a shed of rough boards for a kitchen—the +home of Becky Day.</p> + +<p>The other was across the way and was framed and smartly painted. On the +steps sat a woman with her head bare and her hands under her +apron—widow of the Marcum whose death from a bullet one month before +had broken the long truce of the feud. A groaning curse was growled from +the window as the girl drew near, and she knew it came from a wounded +Marcum who had lately come back from the West to avenge his brother's +death.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you go over to see your neighbor?" The girl's clear eyes gave +no hint that she knew—as she well did—the trouble between the houses, +and the widow stared in sheer amazement, for mountaineers do not talk +with strangers of the quarrels between them.</p> + +<p>"I have nothin' to do with such as her," she said, sullenly; "she ain't +the kind—"</p> + +<p>"Don't!" said the girl, with a flush, "she's dying."</p> + +<p>"<i>Dyin?</i>"</p> + +<p>"Yes." With the word the girl sprang from the mule and threw the reins +over the pale of the fence in front of the log-hut across the way. In +the doorway she turned as though she would speak to the woman on the +steps again, but a tall man with a black beard appeared in the low door +of the kitchen-shed.</p> + +<p>"How is your—how is Mrs. Day?"</p> + +<p>"Mighty puny this mornin'—Becky is."</p> + +<p>The girl slipped into the dark room. On a disordered, pillowless bed lay +a white face with eyes closed and mouth slightly open. Near the bed was +a low wood fire. On the hearth were several thick cups filled with herbs +and heavy fluids and covered with tarpaulin, for Becky's "man" was a +teamster. With a few touches of the girl's quick hands, the covers of +the bed were smooth, and the woman's eyes rested on the girl's own +cloak. With her own handkerchief she brushed the death-damp from the +forehead that already seemed growing cold. At her first touch, the +woman's eyelids opened and dropped together again. Her lips moved, but +no sound came from them.</p> + +<p>In a moment the ashes disappeared, the hearth was clean and the fire was +blazing. Every time the girl passed the window she saw the widow across +the way staring hard at the hut. When she took the ashes into the +street, the woman spoke to her.</p> + +<p>"I can't go to see Becky—she hates me."</p> + +<p>"With good reason."</p> + +<p>The answer came with a clear sharpness that made the widow start and +redden angrily; but the girl walked straight to the gate, her eyes +ablaze with all the courage that the mountain woman knew and yet with +another courage to which the primitive creature was a stranger—a +courage that made the widow lower her own eyes and twist her hands under +her apron.</p> + +<p>"I want you to come and ask Becky to forgive you."</p> + +<p>The woman stared and laughed.</p> + +<p>"Forgive me? Becky forgive me? She wouldn't—an' I don't want her—" She +could not look up into the girl's eyes; but she pulled a pipe from under +the apron, laid it down with a trembling hand and began to rock +slightly.</p> + +<p>The girl leaned across the gate.</p> + +<p>"Look at me!" she said, sharply. The woman raised her eyes, swerved +them once, and then in spite of herself, held them steady.</p> + +<p>"Listen! Do you want a dying woman's curse?"</p> + +<p>It was a straight thrust to the core of a superstitious heart and a +spasm of terror crossed the woman's face. She began to wring her hands.</p> + +<p>"Come on!" said the girl, sternly, and turned, without looking back, +until she reached the door of the hut, where she beckoned and stood +waiting, while the woman started slowly and helplessly from the steps, +still wringing her hands. Inside, behind her, the wounded Marcum, who +had been listening, raised himself on one elbow and looked after her +through the window.</p> + +<p>"She can't come in—not while I'm in here."</p> + +<p>The girl turned quickly. It was Dave Day, the teamster, in the kitchen +door, and his face looked blacker than his beard.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" she said, simply, as though hurt, and then with a dignity that +surprised her, the teamster turned and strode towards the back door.</p> + +<p>"But I can git out, I reckon," he said, and he never looked at the widow +who had stopped, frightened, at the gate.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I can't—I <i>can't!</i>" she said, and her voice broke; but the girl +gently pushed her to the door, where she stopped again, leaning against +the lintel. Across the way, the wounded Marcum, with a scowl of wonder, +crawled out of his bed and started painfully to the door. The girl saw +him and her heart beat fast.</p> + +<p>Inside, Becky lay with closed eyes. She stirred uneasily, as though she +felt some hated presence, but her eyes stayed fast, for the presence of +Death in the room was stronger still.</p> + +<p>"Becky!" At the broken cry, Becky's eyes flashed wide and fire broke +through the haze that had gathered in them.</p> + +<p>"I want ye ter fergive me, Becky."</p> + +<p>The eyes burned steadily for a long time. For two days she had not +spoken, but her voice came now, as though from the grave.</p> + +<p>"You!" she said, and, again, with torturing scorn, "You!" And then she +smiled, for she knew why her enemy was there, and her hour of triumph +was come. The girl moved swiftly to the window—she could see the +wounded Marcum slowly crossing the street, pistol in hand.</p> + +<p>"What'd I ever do to you?"</p> + +<p>"Nothin', Becky, nothin'."</p> + +<p>Becky laughed harshly. "You can tell the truth—can't ye—to a dyin' +woman?"</p> + +<p>"Fergive me, Becky!"</p> + +<p>A scowling face, tortured with pain, was thrust into the window.</p> + +<p>"Sh-h!" whispered the girl, imperiously, and the man lifted his heavy +eyes, dropped one elbow on the window-sill and waited.</p> + +<p>"You tuk Jim from me!"</p> + +<p>The widow covered her face with her hands, and the Marcum at the +window—brother to Jim, who was dead—lowered at her, listening keenly.</p> + +<p>"An' you got him by lyin' 'bout me. You tuk him by lyin' 'bout +me—didn't ye? Didn't ye?" she repeated, fiercely, and her voice would +have wrung the truth from a stone.</p> + +<p>"Yes—Becky—yes!"</p> + +<p>"You hear?" cried Becky, turning her eyes to the girl.</p> + +<p>"You made him believe an' made ever'body, you could, believe that I +was—was <i>bad</i>" Her breath got short, but the terrible arraignment went +on.</p> + +<p>"You started this war. My brother wouldn't 'a' shot Jim Marcum if it +hadn't been fer you. You killed Jim—your own husband—an' you killed +<i>me</i>. An' now you want me to fergive you—you!" She raised her right +hand as though with it she would hurl the curse behind her lips, and the +widow, with a cry, sprang for the bony fingers, catching them in her own +hand and falling over on her knees at the bedside.</p> + +<p>"Don't, Becky, don't—don't—<i>don't!</i>"</p> + +<p>There was a slight rustle at the back window. At the other, a pistol +flashed into sight and dropped again below the sill. Turning, the girl +saw Dave's bushy black head—he, too, with one elbow on the sill and the +other hand out of sight.</p> + +<p>"Shame!" she said, looking from one to the other of the two men, who had +learned, at last, the bottom truth of the feud; and then she caught the +sick woman's other hand and spoke quickly.</p> + +<p>"Hush, Becky," she said; and at the touch of her hand and the sound of +her voice, Becky looked confusedly at her and let her upraised hand sink +back to the bed. The widow stared swiftly from Jim's brother, at one +window, to Dave Day at the other, and hid her face on her arms.</p> + +<p>"Remember, Becky—how can you expect forgiveness in another world, +unless you forgive in this?"</p> + +<p>The woman's brow knitted and she lay quiet. Like the widow who held her +hand, the dying woman believed, with never the shadow of a doubt, that +somewhere above the stars, a living God reigned in a heaven of +never-ending happiness; that somewhere beneath the earth a personal +devil gloated over souls in eternal torture; that whether she went +above, or below, hung solely on her last hour of contrition; and that +in heaven or hell she would know those whom she might meet as surely as +she had known them on earth. By and by her face softened and she drew a +long breath.</p> + +<p>"Jim was a good man," she said. And then after a moment:</p> + +<p>"An' I was a good woman"—she turned her eyes towards the girl—"until +Jim married <i>her</i>. I didn't keer after that." Then she got calm, and +while she spoke to the widow, she looked at the girl.</p> + +<p>"Will you git up in church an' say before everybody that you knew I was +<i>good</i> when you said I was bad—that you lied about me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—yes." Still Becky looked at the girl, who stooped again.</p> + +<p>"She will, Becky, I know she will. Won't you forgive her and leave peace +behind you? Dave and Jim's brother are here—make them shake hands. +Won't you—won't you?" she asked, turning from one to the other.</p> + +<p>Both men were silent.</p> + +<p>"Won't you?" she repeated, looking at Jim's brother.</p> + +<p>"I've got nothin' agin Dave. I always thought that she"—he did not call +his brother's wife by name—"caused all this trouble. I've nothin' agin +Dave."</p> + +<p>The girl turned. "Won't you, Dave?"</p> + +<p>"I'm waitin' to hear whut Becky says."</p> + +<p>Becky was listening, though her eyes were closed. Her brows knitted +painfully. It was a hard compromise that she was asked to make i between +mortal hate and a love that was more than mortal, but the Plea that has +stood between them for nearly twenty centuries prevailed, and the girl +knew that the end of the feud was nigh.</p> + +<p>Becky nodded.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I fergive her, an' I want 'em to shake hands."</p> + +<p>But not once did she turn her eyes to the woman whom she forgave, and +the hand that the widow held gave back no answering pressure. The faces +at the windows disappeared, and she motioned for the girl to take her +weeping enemy away.</p> + +<p>She did not open her eyes when the girl came back, but her lips moved +and the girl bent above her.</p> + +<p>"I know whar Jim is."</p> + +<p>From somewhere outside came Dave's cough, and the dying woman turned her +head as though she were reminded of something she had quite forgotten. +Then, straightway, she forgot again.</p> + +<p>The voice of the flood had deepened. A smile came to Becky's lips—a +faint, terrible smile of triumph. The girl bent low and, with a +startled face, shrank back.</p> + +<p>"<i>An' I'll—git—thar—first.</i>"</p> + +<p>With that whisper went Becky's last breath, but the smile was there, +even when her lips were cold.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 65%;"><br><br> +<a name="A_CRISIS_FOR_THE_GUARD"></a><h2>A CRISIS FOR THE GUARD</h2> +<br> + +<p>The tutor was from New England, and he was precisely what passes, with +Southerners, as typical. He was thin, he wore spectacles, he talked +dreamy abstractions, and he looked clerical. Indeed, his ancestors had +been clergymen for generations, and, by nature and principle, he was an +apostle of peace and a non-combatant. He had just come to the Gap—a +cleft in the Cumberland Mountains—to prepare two young Blue Grass +Kentuckians for Harvard. The railroad was still thirty miles away, and +he had travelled mule-back through mudholes, on which, as the joke ran, +a traveller was supposed to leave his card before he entered and +disappeared—that his successor might not unknowingly press him too +hard. I do know that, in those mudholes, mules were sometimes drowned. +The tutor's gray mule fell over a bank with him, and he would have gone +back had he not feared what was behind more than anything that was +possible ahead. He was mud-bespattered, sore, tired and dispirited when +he reached the Gap, but still plucky and full of business. He wanted to +see his pupils at once and arrange his schedule. They came in after +supper, and I had to laugh when I saw his mild eyes open. The boys were +only fifteen and seventeen, but each had around him a huge revolver and +a belt of cartridges, which he unbuckled and laid on the table after +shaking hands. The tutor's shining glasses were raised to me for light. +I gave it: my brothers had just come in from a little police duty, I +explained. Everybody was a policeman at the Gap, I added; and, +naturally, he still looked puzzled; but he began at once to question the +boys about their studies, and, in an hour, he had his daily schedule +mapped out and submitted to me. I had to cover my mouth with my hand +when I came to one item—"Exercise: a walk of half an hour every +Wednesday afternoon between five and six"—for the younger, known since +at Harvard as the colonel, and known then at the Gap as the Infant of +the Guard, winked most irreverently. As he had just come back from a +ten-mile chase down the valley on horseback after a bad butcher, and as +either was apt to have a like experience any and every day, I was not +afraid they would fail to get exercise enough; so I let that item of the +tutor pass.</p> + +<p>The tutor slept in my room that night, and my four brothers, the eldest +of whom was a lieutenant on the police guard, in a room across the +hallway. I explained to the tutor that there was much lawlessness in +the region; that we "foreigners" were trying to build a town, and that, +to ensure law and order, we had all become volunteer policemen. He +seemed to think it was most interesting.</p> + +<p>About three o'clock in the morning a shrill whistle blew, and, from +habit, I sprang out of bed. I had hardly struck the floor when four +pairs of heavy boots thundered down the stairs just outside the door, +and I heard a gasp from the startled tutor. He was bolt upright in bed, +and his face in the moonlight was white with fear.</p> + +<p>"Wha—wha—what's that?"</p> + +<p>I told him it was a police whistle and that the boys were answering it. +Everybody jumped when he heard a whistle, I explained; for nobody in +town was permitted to blow one except a policeman. I guessed there would +be enough men answering that whistle without me, however, and I slipped +back into bed.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said; and when the boys lumbered upstairs again and one +shouted through the door, "All right!" the tutor said again with +emphasis: "Well!"</p> + +<p>Next day there was to be a political gathering at the Gap. A Senator was +trying to lift himself by his own boot-straps into the Governor's +chair. He was going to make a speech, there would be a big and unruly +crowd, and it would be a crucial day for the Guard. So, next morning, I +suggested to the tutor that it would be unwise for him to begin work +with his pupils that day, for the reason that he was likely to be +greatly interrupted and often. He thought, however, he would like to +begin. He did begin, and within half an hour Gordon, the town sergeant, +thrust his head inside the door and called the colonel by name.</p> + +<p>"Come on," he said; "they're going to try that d—n butcher." And seeing +from the tutor's face that he had done something dreadful, he slammed +the door in apologetic confusion. The tutor was law-abiding, and it was +the law that called the colonel, and so the tutor let him go—nay, went +with him and heard the case. The butcher had gone off on another man's +horse—the man owed him money, he said, and the only way he could get +his money was to take the horse as security. But the sergeant did not +know this, and he and the colonel rode after him, and the colonel, +having the swifter horse, but not having had time to get his own pistol, +took the sergeant's and went ahead. He fired quite close to the running +butcher twice, and the butcher thought it wise to halt. When he saw the +child who had captured him he was speechless, and he got off his horse +and cut a big switch to give the colonel a whipping, but the doughty +Infant drew down on him again and made him ride, foaming with rage, back +to town. The butcher was good-natured at the trial, however, and the +tutor heard him say, with a great guffaw:</p> + +<p>"An' I <i>do</i> believe the d—n little fool would 'a' shot me."</p> + +<p>Once more the tutor looked at the pupil whom he was to lead into the +classic halls of Harvard, and once more he said:</p> + +<p>"Well!"</p> + +<p>People were streaming into town now, and I persuaded the tutor that +there was no use for him to begin his studies again. He said he would go +fishing down the river and take a swim. He would get back in time to +hear the speaking in the afternoon. So I got him a horse, and he came +out with a long cane fishing-pole and a pair of saddle-bags. I told him +that he must watch the old nag or she would run away with him, +particularly when he started homeward. The tutor was not much of a +centaur. The horse started as he was throwing the wrong leg over his +saddle, and the tutor clamped his rod under one arm, clutching for the +reins with both hands and kicking for his stirrups with both feet. The +tip of the limber pole beat the horse's flank gently as she struck a +trot, and smartly as she struck into a lope, and so with arms, feet, +saddle-pockets, and fishing-rod flapping towards different points of the +compass, the tutor passed out of sight over Poplar Hill on a dead run.</p> + +<p>As soon as he could get over a fit of laughter and catch his breath, the +colonel asked:</p> + +<p>"Do you know what he had in those saddle-pockets?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"A bathing suit," he shouted; and he went off again.</p> + +<p>Not even in a primeval forest, it seemed, would the modest Puritan bare +his body to the mirror of limpid water and the caress of mountain air.</p> + +<br><hr style="width: 45%;"><br> + +<p>The trouble had begun early that morning, when Gordon, the town +sergeant, stepped from his door and started down the street with no +little self-satisfaction. He had been arraying himself for a full hour, +and after a tub-bath and a shave he stepped, spic and span, into the +street with his head steadily held high, except when he bent it to look +at the shine of his boots, which was the work of his own hands, and of +which he was proud. As a matter of fact, the sergeant felt that he +looked just as he particularly wanted to look on that day—his best. +Gordon was a native of Wise, but that day a girl was coming from Lee, +and he was ready for her.</p> + +<p>Opposite the Intermont, a pistol-shot cracked from Cherokee Avenue, and +from habit he started that way. Logan, the captain of the Guard—the +leading lawyer in that part of the State—was ahead of him however, and +he called to Gordon to follow. Gordon ran in the grass along the road to +keep those boots out of the dust. Somebody had fired off his pistol for +fun and was making tracks for the river. As they pushed the miscreant +close, he dashed into the river to wade across. It was a very cold +morning, and Gordon prayed that the captain was not going to be such a +fool as to follow the fellow across the river. He should have known +better,</p> + +<p>"In with you," said the captain quietly, and the mirror of the shining +boots was dimmed, and the icy water chilled the sergeant to the knees +and made him so mad that he flashed his pistol and told the runaway to +halt, which he did in the middle of the stream. It was Richards, the +tough from "the Pocket," and, as he paid his fine promptly, they had to +let him go. Gordon went back, put on his everyday clothes and got his +billy and his whistle and prepared to see the maid from Lee when his +duty should let him. As a matter of fact, he saw her but once, and then +he was not made happy.</p> + +<p>The people had come in rapidly—giants from the Crab Orchard, +mountaineers from through the Gap, and from Cracker's Neck and +Thunderstruck Knob; Valley people from Little Stone-Gap, from the +furnace site and Bum Hollow and Wildcat, and people from Lee, from +Turkey Cove, and from the Pocket—the much-dreaded Pocket—far down in +the river hills.</p> + +<p>They came on foot and on horseback, and left their horses in the bushes +and crowded the streets and filled the saloon of one Jack Woods—who had +the cackling laugh of Satan and did not like the Guard, for good +reasons, and whose particular pleasure was to persuade some customer to +stir up a hornet's nest of trouble. From the saloon the crowd moved up +towards the big spring at the foot of Imboden Hill, where, under +beautiful trunk-mottled beeches, was built the speakers' platform.</p> + +<p>Precisely at three o'clock the local orator much flurried, rose, ran his +hand through his long hair and looked in silence over the crowd.</p> + +<p>"Fellow citizens! There's beauty in the stars, of night and in the +glowin' orb of day. There's beauty in the rollin' meadow and in the +quiet stream. There's beauty in the smilin' valley and in the +everlastin' hills. Therefore, fellow citizens—THEREFORE, fellow +citizens, allow me to introduce to you the future Governor of these +United States—Senator William Bayhone." And he sat down with such a +beatific smile of self-satisfaction that a fiend would not have had the +heart to say he had not won.</p> + +<p>Now, there are wandering minstrels yet in the Cumberland Hills. They +play fiddles and go about making up "ballets" that involve local +history. Sometimes they make a pretty good verse—this, for instance, +about a feud:</p> + +<span style="layout-flow: horizontal; margin-left: 0.5em;">The death of these two men</span><br> +<span style="layout-flow: horizontal; margin-left: 1em;">Caused great trouble in our land.</span><br> +<span style="layout-flow: horizontal; margin-left: 0.5em;">Caused men to leave their families</span><br> +<span style="layout-flow: horizontal; margin-left: 1em;">And take the parting hand.</span><br> +<span style="layout-flow: horizontal; margin-left: 0.5em;">Retaliation, still at war,</span><br> +<span style="layout-flow: horizontal; margin-left: 1em;">May never, never cease.</span><br> +<span style="layout-flow: horizontal; margin-left: 0.5em;">I would that I could only see</span><br> +<span style="layout-flow: horizontal; margin-left: 1em;">Our land once more at peace.</span><br> + +<p>There was a minstrel out in the crowd, and pretty soon he struck up his +fiddle and his lay, and he did not exactly sing the virtues of Billy +Bayhone. Evidently some partisan thought he ought, for he smote him on +the thigh with the toe of his boot and raised such a stir as a rude +stranger might had he smitten a troubadour in Arthur's Court. The crowd +thickened and surged, and four of the Guard emerged with the fiddler and +his assailant under arrest. It was as though the Valley were a sheet of +water straightway and the fiddler the dropping of a stone, for the +ripple of mischief started in every direction. It caught two +mountaineers on the edge of the crowd, who for no particular reason +thumped each other with their huge fists, and were swiftly led away by +that silent Guard. The operation of a mysterious force was in the air +and it puzzled the crowd. Somewhere a whistle would blow, and, from this +point and that, a quiet, well-dressed young man would start swiftly +toward it. The crowd got restless and uneasy, and, by and by, +experimental and defiant. For in that crowd was the spirit of Bunker +Hill and King's Mountain. It couldn't fiddle and sing; it couldn't +settle its little troubles after the good old fashion of fist and skull; +it couldn't charge up and down the streets on horseback if it pleased; +it couldn't ride over those puncheon sidewalks; it couldn't drink openly +and without shame; and, Shades of the American Eagle and the Stars and +Stripes, it couldn't even yell. No wonder, like the heathen, it raged. +What did these blanked "furriners" have against them anyhow? They +couldn't run <i>their</i> country—not much.</p> + +<p>Pretty soon there came a shrill whistle far down-town—then another and +another. It sounded ominous, indeed, and it was, being a signal of +distress from the Infant of the Guard, who stood before the door of Jack +Woods's saloon with his pistol levelled on Richards, the tough from the +Pocket, the Infant, standing there with blazing eyes, alone and in the +heart of a gathering storm.</p> + +<p>Now the chain of lawlessness that had tightened was curious and +significant. There was the tough and his kind—lawless, irresponsible +and possible in any community. There was the farm-hand who had come to +town with the wild son of his employer—an honest, law-abiding farmer. +Came, too, a friend of the farmer who had not yet reaped the crop of +wild oats sown in his youth. Whiskey ran all into one mould. The +farm-hand drank with the tough, the wild son with the farm-hand, and the +three drank together, and got the farmer's unregenerate friend to drink +with them; and he and the law-abiding farmer himself, by and by, took a +drink for old time's sake. Now the cardinal command of rural and +municipal districts all through the South is, "Forsake not your friend": +and it does not take whiskey long to make friends. Jack Woods had given +the tough from the Pocket a whistle.</p> + +<p>"You dassen't blow it," said he.</p> + +<p>Richards asked why, and Jack told him. Straightway the tough blew the +whistle, and when the little colonel ran down to arrest him he laughed +and resisted, and the wild son and the farm-hand and Jack Woods showed +an inclination to take his part. So, holding his "drop" on the tough +with one hand, the Infant blew vigorously for help with the other.</p> + +<p>Logan, the captain, arrived first—he usually arrived first—and Gordon, +the sergeant, was by his side—Gordon was always by his side. He would +have stormed a battery if the captain had led him, and the captain would +have led him—alone—if he thought it was his duty. Logan was as calm as +a stage hero at the crisis of a play. The crowd had pressed close.</p> + +<p>"Take that man," he said sharply, pointing to the tough whom the colonel +held covered, and two men seized him from behind.</p> + +<p>The farm-hand drew his gun.</p> + +<p>"No, you don't!" he shouted.</p> + +<p>"Take <i>him</i>," said the captain quietly; and he was seized by two more and +disarmed.</p> + +<p>It was then that Sturgeon, the wild son, ran up.</p> + +<p>"You can't take that man to jail," he shouted with an oath, pointing at +the farm-hand.</p> + +<p>The captain waved his hand. "And <i>him</i>!"</p> + +<p>As two of the Guard approached, Sturgeon started for his gun. Now, +Sturgeon was Gordon's blood cousin, but Gordon levelled his own pistol. +Sturgeon's weapon caught in his pocket, and he tried to pull it loose. +The moment he succeeded Gordon stood ready to fire. Twice the hammer of +the sergeant's pistol went back almost to the turning-point, and then, +as he pulled the trigger again, Macfarlan, first lieutenant, who once +played lacrosse at Yale, rushed, parting the crowd right and left, and +dropped his billy lightly three times—right, left and right—on +Sturgeon's head. The blood spurted, the head fell back between the +bully's shoulders, his grasp on his pistol loosened, and he sank to his +knees. For a moment the crowd was stunned by the lightning quickness of +it all. It was the first blow ever struck in that country with a piece +of wood in the name of the law.</p> + +<p>"Take 'em on, boys," called the captain, whose face had paled a little, +though he seemed as cool as ever.</p> + +<p>And the boys started, dragging the three struggling prisoners, and the +crowd, growing angrier and angrier, pressed close behind, a hundred of +them, led by the farmer himself, a giant in size, and beside himself +with rage and humiliation. Once he broke through the guard line and was +pushed back. Knives and pistols began to flash now everywhere, and loud +threats and curses rose on all sides—the men should not be taken to +jail. The sergeant, dragging Sturgeon, looked up into the blazing eyes +of a girl on the sidewalk, Sturgeon's sister—the maid from Lee. The +sergeant groaned. Logan gave some order just then to the Infant, who +ran ahead, and by the time the Guard with the prisoners had backed to a +corner there were two lines of Guards drawn across the street. The first +line let the prisoners and their captors through, closed up behind, and +backed slowly towards the corner, where it meant to stand.</p> + +<p>It was very exciting there. Winchesters and shotguns protruded from the +line threateningly, but the mob came on as though it were going to press +through, and determined faces blenched with excitement, but not with +fear. A moment later, the little colonel and the Guards on either side +of him were jabbing at men with cocked Winchesters. At that moment it +would have needed but one shot to ring out to have started an awful +carnage; but not yet was there a man in the mob—and that is the trouble +with mobs—who seemed willing to make a sacrifice of himself that the +others might gain their end. For one moment they halted, cursing and +waving; their pistols, preparing for a charge; and in that crucial +moment the tutor from New England came like a thunderbolt to the rescue. +Shrieks of terror from children, shrieks of outraged modesty from women, +rent the air down the street where the huddled crowd was rushing right +and left in wild confusion, and, through the parting crowd, the tutor +flew into sight on horseback, bareheaded, barefooted, clad in a gaudily +striped bathing suit, with his saddle-pockets flapping behind him like +wings. Some mischievous mountaineers, seeing him in his bathing suit on +the point of a rock up the river, had joyously taken a pot-shot or two +at him, and the tutor had mounted his horse and fled. But he came as +welcome and as effective as an emissary straight from the God of +Battles, though he came against his will, for his old nag was frantic +and was running away. Men, women and children parted before him, and +gaping mouths widened as he passed. The impulse of the crowd ran faster +than his horse, and even the enraged mountaineers in amazed wonder +sprang out of his way, and, far in the rear, a few privileged ones saw +the frantic horse plunge towards his stable, stop suddenly, and pitch +his mottled rider through the door and mercifully out of sight. Human +purpose must give way when a pure miracle comes to earth to baffle it. +It gave way now long enough to let the oaken doors of the calaboose +close behind tough, farm-hand, and the farmer's wild son. The line of +Winchesters at the corner quietly gave way. The power of the Guard was +established, the backbone of the opposition broken; henceforth, the work +for law and order was to be easy compared with what it had been. Up at +the big spring under the beeches sat the disgusted orator of the day +and the disgusted Senator, who, seriously, was quite sure that the +Guard, being composed of Democrats, had taken this way to shatter his +campaign.</p> + +<br><hr style="width: 45%;"><br> + +<p>Next morning, in court, the members of the Guard acted as witnesses +against the culprits. Macfarlan stated that he had struck Sturgeon over +the head to save his life, and Sturgeon, after he had paid his fine, +said he would prefer being shot to being clubbed to death, and he bore +dangerous malice for a long time, until he learned what everybody else +knew, that Macfarlan always did what he thought he ought, and never +spoke anything but the literal truth, whether it hurt friend, foe or +himself.</p> + +<p>After court, Richards, the tough, met Gordon, the sergeant, in the road. +"Gordon," he said, "you swore to a ---- lie about me a while ago."</p> + +<p>"How do you want to fight?" asked Gordon.</p> + +<p>"Fair!"</p> + +<p>"Come on"; and Gordon started for the town limits across the river, +Richards following on horseback. At a store, Gordon unbuckled his belt +and tossed his pistol and his police badge inside. Jack Woods, seeing +this, followed, and the Infant, seeing Woods, followed too. The law was +law, but this affair was personal, and would be settled without the +limits of law and local obligation. Richards tried to talk to Gordon, +but the sergeant walked with his head down, as though he could not +hear—he was too enraged to talk.</p> + +<p>While Richards was hitching his horse in the bushes the sergeant stood +on the bank of the river with his arms folded and his chin swinging from +side to side. When he saw Richards in the open he rushed for him like a +young bull that feels the first swelling of his horns. It was not a +fair, stand-up, knock-down English fight, but a Scotch tussle, in which +either could strike, kick, bite or gouge. After a few blows they +clinched and whirled and fell, Gordon on top—with which advantage he +began to pound the tough from the Pocket savagely. Woods made as if to +pull him off, but the Infant drew his pistol. "Keep off!"</p> + +<p>"He's killing him!" shouted Woods, halting.</p> + +<p>"Let him holler 'Enough,' then," said the Infant.</p> + +<p>"He's killing him!" shouted Woods.</p> + +<p>"Let Gordon's friends take him off, then," said the Infant. "Don't <i>you</i> +touch him."</p> + +<p>And it was done. Richards was senseless and speechless—he really +couldn't shout "Enough." But he was content, and the day left a very +satisfactory impression on him and on his friends.</p> + +<p>If they misbehaved in town they would be arrested: that was plain. But +it was also plain that if anybody had a personal grievance against one +of the Guard he could call him out of the town limits and get +satisfaction, after the way of his fathers. There was nothing personal +at all in the attitude of the Guard towards the outsiders; which +recognition was a great stride toward mutual understanding and final +high regard.</p> + +<p>All that day I saw that something was troubling the tutor from New +England. It was the Moral Sense of the Puritan at work, I supposed, and, +that night, when I came in with a new supply of "billies" and gave one +to each of my brothers, the tutor looked up over his glasses and cleared +his throat.</p> + +<p>"Now," said I to myself, "we shall catch it hot on the savagery of the +South and the barbarous Method of keeping it down"; but before he had +said three words the colonel looked as though he were going to get up +and slap the little dignitary on the back—which would have created a +sensation indeed.</p> + +<p>"Have you an extra one of those—those—"</p> + +<p>"Billies?" I said, wonderingly.</p> + +<p>"Yes. I—I believe I shall join the Guard myself," said the tutor from +New England.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 65%;"><br><br> +<a name="CHRISTMAS_NIGHT_WITH_SATAN"></a><h2>CHRISTMAS NIGHT WITH SATAN</h2> +<br> + +<p>No night was this in Hades with solemn-eyed Dante, for Satan was only a +woolly little black dog, and surely no dog was ever more absurdly +misnamed. When Uncle Carey first heard that name, he asked gravely:</p> + +<p>"Why, Dinnie, where in h----," Uncle Carey gulped slightly, "did you get +him?" And Dinnie laughed merrily, for she saw the fun of the question, +and shook her black curls.</p> + +<p>"He didn't come f'um <i>that place</i>."</p> + +<p>Distinctly Satan had not come from that place. On the contrary, he might +by a miracle have dropped straight from some Happy Hunting-ground, for +all the signs he gave of having touched pitch in this or another sphere. +Nothing human was ever born that was gentler, merrier, more trusting or +more lovable than Satan. That was why Uncle Carey said again gravelyt +hat he could hardly tell Satan and his little mistress apart. He rarely +saw them apart, and as both had black tangled hair and bright black +eyes; as one awoke every morning with a happy smile and the other with a +jolly bark; as they played all day like wind-shaken shadows and each +won every heart at first sight—the likeness was really rather curious. +I have always believed that Satan made the spirit of Dinnie's house, +orthodox and severe though it was, almost kindly toward his great +namesake. I know I have never been able, since I knew little Satan, to +think old Satan as bad as I once painted him, though I am sure the +little dog had many pretty tricks that the "old boy" doubtless has never +used in order to amuse his friends.</p> + +<p>"Shut the door, Saty, please." Dinnie would say, precisely as she would +say it to Uncle Billy, the butler, and straightway Satan would launch +himself at it—bang! He never would learn to close it softly, for Satan +liked that—bang!</p> + +<p>If you kept tossing a coin or marble in the air, Satan would keep +catching it and putting it back in your hand for another throw, till you +got tired. Then he would drop it on a piece of rag carpet, snatch the +carpet with his teeth, throw the coin across the room and rush for it +like mad, until he got tired. If you put a penny on his nose, he would +wait until you counted, one—two—<i>three</i>! Then he would toss it up +himself and catch it. Thus, perhaps, Satan grew to love Mammon right +well, but for another and better reason than that he liked simply to +throw it around—as shall now be made plain.</p> + +<a name="Satan" href="Illus0105.jpg"><img src="Illus0105-t.jpg" align="left" alt="Satan would drop the coin and get a ball for himself"></a> + +<p>A rubber ball with a hole in it was his favorite plaything, and he +would take it in his mouth and rush around the house like a child, +squeezing it to make it whistle. When he got a new ball, he would hide +his old one away until the new one was the worse worn of the two, and +then he would bring out the old one again. If Dinnie gave him a nickel +or a dime, when they went down-town, Satan would rush into a store, rear +up on the counter where the rubber balls were kept, drop the coin, and +get a ball for himself. Thus, Satan learned finance. He began to hoard, +his pennies, and one day Uncle Carey found a pile of seventeen under a +corner of the carpet. Usually he carried to Dinnie all coins that he +found in the street, but he showed one day that he was going into the +ball-business for himself. Uncle Carey had given Dinnie a nickel for +some candy, and, as usual, Satan trotted down the street behind her. As +usual, Satan stopped before the knick-knack shop.</p> + +<p>"Tum on, Saty," said Dinnie. Satan reared against the door as he always +did, and Dinnie said again:</p> + +<p>"Tum on, Saty." As usual, Satan dropped to his haunches, but what was +unusual, he failed to bark. Now Dinnie had got a new ball for Satan only +that morning, so Dinnie stamped her foot.</p> + +<p>"I tell you to turn on, Saty." Satan never moved. He looked at Dinnie +as much as to say:</p> + +<p>"I have never disobeyed you before, little mistress, but this time I +have an excellent reason for what must seem to you very bad manners—" +and being a gentleman withal, Satan rose on his haunches and begged.</p> + +<p>"You're des a pig, Saty," said Dinnie, but with a sigh for the candy +that was not to be, Dinnie opened the door, and Satan, to her wonder, +rushed to the counter, put his forepaws on it, and dropped from his +mouth a dime. Satan had found that coin on the street. He didn't bark +for change, nor beg for two balls, but he had got it in his woolly +little head, somehow, that in that store a coin meant a ball, though +never before nor afterward did he try to get a ball for a penny.</p> + +<p>Satan slept in Uncle Carey's room, for of all people, after Dinnie, +Satan loved Uncle Carey best. Every day at noon he would go to an +upstairs window and watch the cars come around the corner, until a very +tall, square-shouldered young man swung to the ground, and down Satan +would scamper—yelping—to meet him at the gate. If Uncle Carey, after +supper and when Dinnie was in bed, started out of the house, still in +his business clothes, Satan would leap out before him, knowing that he +too might be allowed to go; but if Uncle Carey had put on black clothes +that showed a big, dazzling shirt-front, and picked up his high hat, +Satan would sit perfectly still and look disconsolate; for as there were +no parties or theatres for Dinnie, so there were none for him. But no +matter how late it was when Uncle Carey came home, he always saw Satan's +little black nose against the window-pane and heard his bark of welcome.</p> + +<p>After intelligence, Satan's chief trait was lovableness—nobody ever +knew him to fight, to snap at anything, or to get angry; after +lovableness, it was politeness. If he wanted something to eat, if he +wanted Dinnie to go to bed, if he wanted to get out of the door, he +would beg—beg prettily on his haunches, his little red tongue out and +his funny little paws hanging loosely. Indeed, it was just because Satan +was so little less than human, I suppose, that old Satan began to be +afraid he might have a soul. So the wicked old namesake with the Hoofs +and Horns laid a trap for little Satan, and, as he is apt to do, he +began laying it early—long, indeed, before Christmas.</p> + +<p>When Dinnie started to kindergarten that autumn, Satan found that there +was one place where he could never go. Like the lamb, he could not go to +school; so while Dinnie was away, Satan began to make friends. He would +bark, "Howdy-do?" to every dog that passed his gate. Many stopped to rub +noses with him through the fence—even Hugo the mastiff, and nearly all, +indeed, except one strange-looking dog that appeared every morning at +precisely nine o'clock and took his stand on the corner. There he would +lie patiently until a funeral came along, and then Satan would see him +take his place at the head of the procession; and then he would march +out to the cemetery and back again. Nobody knew where he came from nor +where he went, and Uncle Carey called him the "funeral dog" and said he +was doubtless looking for his dead master. Satan even made friends with +a scrawny little yellow dog that followed an old drunkard around—a dog +that, when his master fell in the gutter, would go and catch a policeman +by the coat-tail, lead the officer to his helpless master, and spend the +night with him in jail.</p> + +<p>By and by Satan began to slip out of the house at night, and Uncle Billy +said he reckoned Satan had "jined de club"; and late one night, when he +had not come in, Uncle Billy told Uncle Carey that it was "powerful +slippery and he reckoned they'd better send de kerridge after him"—an +innocent remark that made Uncle Carey send a boot after the old butler, +who fled chuckling down the stairs, and left Uncle Carey chuckling in +his room.</p> + +<p>Satan had "jined de club"—the big club—and no dog was too lowly in +Satan's eyes for admission; for no priest ever preached the brotherhood +of man better than Satan lived it—both with man and dog. And thus he +lived it that Christmas night—to his sorrow.</p> + +<p>Christmas Eve had been gloomy—the gloomiest of Satan's life. Uncle +Carey had gone to a neighboring town at noon. Satan had followed him +down to the station, and when the train departed, Uncle Carey had +ordered him to go home. Satan took his time about going home, not +knowing it was Christmas Eve. He found strange things happening to dogs +that day. The truth was, that policemen were shooting all dogs found +that were without a collar and a license, and every now and then a bang +and a howl somewhere would stop Satan in his tracks. At a little yellow +house on the edge of town he saw half a dozen strange dogs in a kennel, +and every now and then a negro would lead a new one up to the house and +deliver him to a big man at the door, who, in return, would drop +something into the negro's hand. While Satan waited, the old drunkard +came along with his little dog at his heels, paused before the door, +looked a moment at his faithful follower, and went slowly on. Satan +little knew the old drunkard's temptation, for in that yellow house +kind-hearted people had offered fifteen cents for each dog brought to +them, without a license, that they might mercifully put it to death, and +fifteen cents was the precise price for a drink of good whiskey. Just +then there was another bang and another howl somewhere, and Satan +trotted home to meet a calamity. Dinnie was gone. Her mother had taken +her out in the country to Grandmother Dean's to spend Christmas, as was +the family custom, and Mrs. Dean would not wait any longer for Satan; so +she told Uncle Billy to bring him out after supper.</p> + +<p>"Ain't you 'shamed o' yo'self—suh—?" said the old butler, "keepin' me +from ketchin' Christmas gifts dis day?"</p> + +<p>Uncle Billy was indignant, for the negroes begin at four o'clock in the +afternoon of Christmas Eve to slip around corners and jump from hiding +places to shout "Christmas Gif—Christmas Gif'"; and the one who shouts +first gets a gift. No wonder it was gloomy for Satan—Uncle Carey, +Dinnie, and all gone, and not a soul but Uncle Billy in the big house. +Every few minutes he would trot on his little black legs upstairs and +downstairs, looking for his mistress. As dusk came on, he would every +now and then howl plaintively. After begging his supper, and while +Uncle Billy was hitching up a horse in the stable, Satan went out in the +yard and lay with his nose between the close panels of the fence—quite +heart-broken. When he saw his old friend, Hugo, the mastiff, trotting +into the gaslight, he began to bark his delight frantically. The big +mastiff stopped and nosed his sympathy through the fence for a moment +and walked slowly on, Satan frisking and barking along inside. At the +gate Hugo stopped, and raising one huge paw, playfully struck it. The +gate flew open, and with a happy yelp Satan leaped into the street. The +noble mastiff hesitated as though this were not quite regular. He did +not belong to the club, and he didn't know that Satan had ever been away +from home after dark in his life. For a moment he seemed to wait for +Dinnie to call him back as she always did, but this time there was no +sound, and Hugo walked majestically on, with absurd little Satan running +in a circle about him. On the way they met the "funeral dog," who +glanced inquiringly at Satan, shied from the mastiff, and trotted on. On +the next block the old drunkard's yellow cur ran across the street, and +after interchanging the compliments of the season, ran back after his +staggering master. As they approached the railroad track a strange dog +joined them, to whom Hugo paid no attention. At the crossing another +new acquaintance bounded toward them. This one—a half-breed +shepherd—was quite friendly, and he received Satan's advances with +affable condescension. Then another came and another, and little Satan's +head got quite confused. They were a queer-looking lot of curs and +half-breeds from the negro settlement at the edge of the woods, and +though Satan had little experience, his instincts told him that all was +not as it should be, and had he been human he would have wondered very +much how they had escaped the carnage that day. Uneasy, he looked around +for Hugo; but Hugo had disappeared. Once or twice Hugo had looked around +for Satan, and Satan paying no attention, the mastiff trotted on home in +disgust. Just then a powerful yellow cur sprang out of the darkness over +the railroad track, and Satan sprang to meet him, and so nearly had the +life scared out of him by the snarl and flashing fangs of the new-comer +that he hardly had the strength to shrink back behind his new friend, +the half-breed shepherd.</p> + +<p>A strange thing then happened. The other dogs became suddenly quiet, and +every eye was on the yellow cur. He sniffed the air once or twice, gave +two or three peculiar low growls, and all those dogs except Satan lost +the civilization of centuries and went back suddenly to the time when +they were wolves and were looking for a leader. The cur was Lobo for +that little pack, and after a short parley, he lifted his nose high and +started away without looking back, while the other dogs silently trotted +after him. With a mystified yelp, Satan ran after them. The cur did not +take the turnpike, but jumped the fence into a field, making his way by +the rear of houses, from which now and then another dog would slink out +and silently join the band. Every one of them Satan nosed most +friendlily, and to his great joy the funeral dog, on the edge of the +town, leaped into their midst. Ten minutes later the cur stopped in the +midst of some woods, as though he would inspect his followers. Plainly, +he disapproved of Satan, and Satan kept out of his way. Then he sprang +into the turnpike and the band trotted down it, under flying black +clouds and shifting bands of brilliant moonlight. Once, a buggy swept +past them. A familiar odor struck Satan's nose, and he stopped for a +moment to smell the horse's tracks; and right he was, too, for out at +her grandmother's Dinnie refused to be comforted, and in that buggy was +Uncle Billy going back to town after him.</p> + +<p>Snow was falling. It was a great lark for Satan. Once or twice, as he +trotted along, he had to bark his joy aloud, and each time the big cur +gave him such a fierce growl that he feared thereafter to open his +jaws. But he was happy for all that, to be running out into the night +with such a lot of funny friends and not to know or care where he was +going. He got pretty tired presently, for over hill and down hill they +went, at that unceasing trot, trot, trot! Satan's tongue began to hang +out. Once he stopped to rest, but the loneliness frightened him and he +ran on after them with his heart almost bursting. He was about to lie +right down and die, when the cur stopped, sniffed the air once or twice, +and with those same low growls, led the marauders through a rail fence +into the woods, and lay quietly down. How Satan loved that soft, thick +grass, all snowy that it was! It was almost as good as his own bed at +home. And there they lay—how long, Satan never knew, for he went to +sleep and dreamed that he was after a rat in the barn at home; and he +yelped in his sleep, which made the cur lift his big yellow head and +show his fangs. The moving of the half-breed shepherd and the funeral +dog waked him at last, and Satan got up. Half crouching, the cur was +leading the way toward the dark, still woods on top of the hill, over +which the Star of Bethlehem was lowly sinking, and under which lay a +flock of the gentle creatures that seemed to have been almost sacred to +the Lord of that Star. They were in sore need of a watchful shepherd +now. Satan was stiff and chilled, but he was rested and had had his +sleep, and he was just as ready for fun as he always was. He didn't +understand that sneaking. Why they didn't all jump and race and bark as +he wanted to, he couldn't see; but he was too polite to do otherwise +than as they did, and so he sneaked after them; and one would have +thought he knew, as well as the rest, the hellish mission on which they +were bent.</p> + +<p>Out of the woods they went, across a little branch, and there the big +cur lay flat again in the grass. A faint bleat came from the hill-side +beyond, where Satan could see another woods—and then another bleat, and +another. And the cur began to creep again, like a snake in the grass; +and the others crept too, and little Satan crept, though it was all a +sad mystery to him. Again the cur lay still, but only long enough for +Satan to see curious, fat, white shapes above him—and then, with a +blood-curdling growl, the big brute dashed forward. Oh, there was fun in +them after all! Satan barked joyfully. Those were some new +playmates—those fat, white, hairy things up there; and Satan was amazed +when, with frightened snorts, they fled in every direction. But this was +a new game, perhaps, of which he knew nothing, and as did the rest, so +did Satan. He picked out one of the white things and fled barking after +it. It was a little fellow that he was after, but little as he was, +Satan might never have caught up, had not the sheep got tangled in some +brush. Satan danced about him in mad glee, giving him a playful nip at +his wool and springing back to give him another nip, and then away +again. Plainly, he was not going to bite back, and when the sheep +struggled itself tired and sank down in a heap, Satan came close and +licked him, and as he was very warm and woolly, he lay down and snuggled +up against him for awhile, listening to the turmoil that was going on +around him. And as he listened, he got frightened.</p> + +<p>If this was a new game it was certainly a very peculiar one—the wild +rush, the bleats of terror, gasps of agony, and the fiendish growls of +attack and the sounds of ravenous gluttony. With every hair bristling, +Satan rose and sprang from the woods—and stopped with a fierce tingling +of the nerves that brought him horror and fascination. One of the white +shapes lay still before him. There was a great steaming red splotch on +the snow, and a strange odor in the air that made him dizzy; but only +for a moment. Another white shape rushed by. A tawny streak followed, +and then, in a patch of moonlight, Satan saw the yellow cur with his +teeth fastened in the throat of his moaning playmate. Like lightning +Satan sprang at the cur, who tossed him ten feet away and went back to +his awful work. Again Satan leaped, but just then a shout rose behind +him, and the cur leaped too as though a bolt of lightning had crashed +over him, and, no longer noticing Satan or sheep, began to quiver with +fright and slink away. Another shout rose from another direction—another +from another.</p> + +<p>"Drive 'em into the barn-yard!" was the cry.</p> + +<p>Now and then there was a fearful bang and a howl of death-agony, as some +dog tried to break through the encircling men, who yelled and cursed as +they closed in on the trembling brutes that slunk together and crept on; +for it is said, every sheep-killing dog knows his fate if caught, and +will make little effort to escape. With them went Satan, through the +barn-yard gate, where they huddled in a corner—a shamed and terrified +group. A tall overseer stood at the gate.</p> + +<p>"Ten of 'em!" he said grimly.</p> + +<p>He had been on the lookout for just such a tragedy, for there had +recently been a sheep-killing raid on several farms in that +neighborhood, and for several nights he had had a lantern hung out on +the edge of the woods to scare the dogs away; but a drunken farm-hand +had neglected his duty that Christmas Eve.</p> + +<p>"Yassuh, an' dey's jus' sebenteen dead sheep out dar," said a negro.</p> + +<p>"Look at the little one," said a tall boy who looked like the overseer; +and Satan knew that he spoke of him.</p> + +<p>"Go back to the house, son," said the overseer, "and tell your mother to +give you a Christmas present I got for you yesterday." With a glad whoop +the boy dashed away, and in a moment dashed back with a brand-new .32 +Winchester in his hand.</p> + +<p>The dark hour before dawn was just breaking on Christmas Day. It was the +hour when Satan usually rushed upstairs to see if his little mistress +was asleep. If he were only at home now, and if he only had known how +his little mistress was weeping for him amid her playthings and his—two +new balls and a brass-studded collar with a silver plate on which was +his name, Satan Dean; and if Dinnie could have seen him now, her heart +would have broken; for the tall boy raised his gun. There was a jet of +smoke, a sharp, clean crack, and the funeral dog started on the right +way at last toward his dead master. Another crack, and the yellow cur +leaped from the ground and fell kicking. Another crack and another, and +with each crack a dog tumbled, until little Satan sat on his haunches +amid the writhing pack, alone. His time was now come. As the rifle was +raised, he heard up at the big house the cries of children; the popping +of fire-crackers; tooting of horns and whistles and loud shouts of +"Christmas Gif', Christmas Gif'!" His little heart beat furiously. +Perhaps he knew just what he was doing; perhaps it was the accident of +habit; most likely Satan simply wanted to go home—but when that gun +rose, Satan rose too, on his haunches, his tongue out, his black eyes +steady and his funny little paws hanging loosely—and begged! The boy +lowered the gun.</p> + +<p>"Down, sir!" Satan dropped obediently, but when the gun was lifted +again, Satan rose again, and again he begged.</p> + +<p>"Down, I tell you!" This time Satan would not down, but sat begging for +his life. The boy turned.</p> + +<p>"Papa, I can't shoot that dog." Perhaps Satan had reached the stern old +overseer's heart. Perhaps he remembered suddenly that it was Christmas. +At any rate, he said gruffly:</p> + +<p>"Well, let him go."</p> + +<p>"Come here, sir!" Satan bounded toward the tall boy, frisking and +trustful and begged again.</p> + +<p>"Go home, sir!"</p> + +<p>Satan needed no second command. Without a sound he fled out the +barn-yard, and, as he swept under the front gate, a little girl ran out +of the front door of the big house and dashed down the steps, shrieking:</p> + +<p>"Saty! Saty! Oh, Saty!" But Satan never heard. On he fled, across the +crisp fields, leaped the fence and struck the road, lickety-split! for +home, while Dinnie dropped sobbing in the snow.</p> + +<p>"Hitch up a horse, quick," said Uncle Carey, rushing after Dinnie and +taking her up in his arms. Ten minutes later, Uncle Carey and Dinnie, +both warmly bundled up, were after flying Satan. They never caught him +until they reached the hill on the outskirts of town, where was the +kennel of the kind-hearted people who were giving painless death to +Satan's four-footed kind, and where they saw him stop and turn from the +road. There was divine providence in Satan's flight for one little dog +that Christmas morning; for Uncle Carey saw the old drunkard staggering +down the road without his little companion, and a moment later, both he +and Dinnie saw Satan nosing a little yellow cur between the palings. +Uncle Carey knew the little cur, and while Dinnie was shrieking for +Satan, he was saying under his breath:</p> + +<p>"Well, I swear!—I swear!—I swear!" And while the big man who came to +the door was putting Satan into Dinnie's arms, he said, sharply:</p> + +<p>"Who brought that yellow dog here?" The man pointed to the old +drunkard's figure turning a corner at the foot of the hill.</p> + +<p>"I thought so; I thought so. He sold him to you for—for a drink of +whiskey."</p> + +<p>The man whistled.</p> + +<p>"Bring him out. I'll pay his license."</p> + +<p>So back went Satan and the little cur to Grandmother Dean's—and Dinnie +cried when Uncle Carey told her why he was taking the little cur along. +With her own hands she put Satan's old collar on the little brute, took +him to the kitchen, and fed him first of all. Then she went into the +breakfast-room.</p> + +<p>"Uncle Billy," she said severely, "didn't I tell you not to let Saty +out?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Miss Dinnie," said the old butler.</p> + +<p>"Didn't I tell you I was goin' to whoop you if you let Saty out?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Miss Dinnie."</p> + +<p>Miss Dinnie pulled forth from her Christmas treasures a toy riding-whip +and the old darky's eyes began to roll in mock terror.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, Uncle Billy, but I des got to whoop you a little."</p> + +<p>"Let Uncle Billy off, Dinnie," said Uncle Carey, "this is Christmas."</p> + +<p>"All wite," said Dinnie, and she turned to Satan.</p> + +<p>In his shining new collar and innocent as a cherub, Satan sat on the +hearth begging for his breakfast.</p> + +<hr class="full"> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHRISTMAS EVE ON LONESOME AND OTHER STORIES***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 10735-h.txt or 10735-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/7/3/10735">https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/7/3/10735</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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C. Yohn, et al + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + + + + +Title: Christmas Eve on Lonesome and Other Stories + +Author: John Fox, Jr. + +Release Date: January 17, 2004 [eBook #10735] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: US-ASCII + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHRISTMAS EVE ON LONESOME AND +OTHER STORIES*** + + +E-text prepared by Juliet Sutherland, Dave Morgan, and the Project +Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + +Christmas Eve On Lonesome And Other Stories + +By John Fox, Jr. + +Illustrated By F. C. Yohn, A.I. Keller, W.A. Rogers, and H. C. Ransom + +1911 + + + + + + + + +CONTENTS + + Christmas Eve On Lonesome + + The Army Of The Callahan + + The Pardon Of Becky Day + + A Crisis For The Guard + + Christmas Night With Satan + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + Captain Wells descended with no little majesty and "biffed" him + + "Speak up, nigger!" + + Satan would drop the coin and get a ball for himself + + + + + +TO THOMAS NELSON PAGE + + + + +CHRISTMAS EVE ON LONESOME + + +It was Christmas Eve on Lonesome. But nobody on Lonesome knew that it +was Christmas Eve, although a child of the outer world could have +guessed it, even out in those wilds where Lonesome slipped from one lone +log cabin high up the steeps, down through a stretch of jungled darkness +to another lone cabin at the mouth of the stream. + +There was the holy hush in the gray twilight that comes only on +Christmas Eve. There were the big flakes of snow that fell as they never +fall except on Christmas Eve. There was a snowy man on horseback in a +big coat, and with saddle-pockets that might have been bursting with +toys for children in the little cabin at the head of the stream. + +But not even he knew that it was Christmas Eve. He was thinking of +Christmas Eve, but it was of the Christmas Eve of the year before, when +he sat in prison with a hundred other men in stripes, and listened to +the chaplain talk of peace and good will to all men upon earth, when he +had forgotten all men upon earth but one, and had only hatred in his +heart for him. + +"Vengeance is mine! saith the Lord." + +That was what the chaplain had thundered at him. And then, as now, he +thought of the enemy who had betrayed him to the law, and had sworn away +his liberty, and had robbed him of everything in life except a fierce +longing for the day when he could strike back and strike to kill. And +then, while he looked back hard into the chaplain's eyes, and now, while +he splashed through the yellow mud thinking of that Christmas Eve, Buck +shook his head; and then, as now, his sullen heart answered: + +"Mine!" + +The big flakes drifted to crotch and twig and limb. They gathered on the +brim of Buck's slouch hat, filled out the wrinkles in his big coat, +whitened his hair and his long mustache, and sifted into the yellow, +twisting path that guided his horse's feet. + +High above he could see through the whirling snow now and then the gleam +of a red star. He knew it was the light from his enemy's window; but +somehow the chaplain's voice kept ringing in his ears, and every time he +saw the light he couldn't help thinking of the story of the Star that +the chaplain told that Christmas Eve, and he dropped his eyes by and by, +so as not to see it again, and rode on until the light shone in his +face. + +Then he led his horse up a little ravine and hitched it among the snowy +holly and rhododendrons, and slipped toward the light. There was a dog +somewhere, of course; and like a thief he climbed over the low +rail-fence and stole through the tall snow-wet grass until he leaned +against an apple-tree with the sill of the window two feet above the +level of his eyes. + +Reaching above him, he caught a stout limb and dragged himself up to a +crotch of the tree. A mass of snow slipped softly to the earth. The +branch creaked above the light wind; around the corner of the house a +dog growled and he sat still. + +He had waited three long years and he had ridden two hard nights and +lain out two cold days in the woods for this. + +And presently he reached out very carefully, and noiselessly broke leaf +and branch and twig until a passage was cleared for his eye and for the +point of the pistol that was gripped in his right hand. + +A woman was just disappearing through the kitchen door, and he peered +cautiously and saw nothing but darting shadows. From one corner a shadow +loomed suddenly out in human shape. Buck saw the shadowed gesture of an +arm, and he cocked his pistol. That shadow was his man, and in a moment +he would be in a chair in the chimney corner to smoke his pipe, +maybe--his last pipe. + +Buck smiled--pure hatred made him smile--but it was mean, a mean and +sorry thing to shoot this man in the back, dog though he was; and now +that the moment had come a wave of sickening shame ran through Buck. No +one of his name had ever done that before; but this man and his people +had, and with their own lips they had framed palliation for him. What +was fair for one was fair for the other they always said. A poor man +couldn't fight money in the courts; and so they had shot from the brush, +and that was why they were rich now and Buck was poor--why his enemy was +safe at home, and he was out here, homeless, in the apple-tree. + +Buck thought of all this, but it was no use. The shadow slouched +suddenly and disappeared; and Buck was glad. With a gritting oath +between his chattering teeth he pulled his pistol in and thrust one leg +down to swing from the tree--he would meet him face to face next day and +kill him like a man--and there he hung as rigid as though the cold had +suddenly turned him, blood, bones, and marrow, into ice. + +The door had opened, and full in the firelight stood the girl who he had +heard was dead. He knew now how and why that word was sent him. And now +she who had been his sweetheart stood before him--the wife of the man he +meant to kill. + +Her lips moved--he thought he could tell what she said: "Git up, Jim, +git up!" Then she went back. + +A flame flared up within him now that must have come straight from the +devil's forge. Again the shadows played over the ceiling. His teeth +grated as he cocked his pistol, and pointed it down the beam of light +that shot into the heart of the apple-tree, and waited. + +The shadow of a head shot along the rafters and over the fireplace. It +was a madman clutching the butt of the pistol now, and as his eye caught +the glinting sight and his heart thumped, there stepped into the square +light of the window--a child! + +It was a boy with yellow tumbled hair, and he had a puppy in his arms. +In front of the fire the little fellow dropped the dog, and they began +to play. + +"Yap! yap! yap!" + +Buck could hear the shrill barking of the fat little dog, and the joyous +shrieks of the child as he made his playfellow chase his tail round and +round or tumbled him head over heels on the floor. It was the first +child Buck had seen for three years; it was _his_ child and _hers_; +and, in the apple-tree, Buck watched fixedly. + +They were down on the floor now, rolling over and over together; and he +watched them until the child grew tired and turned his face to the fire +and lay still--looking into it. Buck could see his eyes close presently, +and then the puppy crept closer, put his head on his playmate's chest, +and the two lay thus asleep. + +And still Buck looked--his clasp loosening on his pistol and his lips +loosening under his stiff mustache--and kept looking until the door +opened again and the woman crossed the floor. A flood of light flashed +suddenly on the snow, barely touching the snow-hung tips of the +apple-tree, and he saw her in the doorway--saw her look anxiously into +the darkness--look and listen a long while. + +Buck dropped noiselessly to the snow when she closed the door. He +wondered what they would think when they saw his tracks in the snow next +morning; and then he realized that they would be covered before morning. + +As he started up the ravine where his horse was he heard the clink of +metal down the road and the splash of a horse's hoofs in the soft mud, +and he sank down behind a holly-bush. + +Again the light from the cabin flashed out on the snow. + +"That you, Jim?" + +"Yep!" + +And then the child's voice: "Has oo dot thum tandy?" + +"Yep!" + +The cheery answer rang out almost at Buck's ear, and Jim passed death +waiting for him behind the bush which his left foot brushed, shaking the +snow from the red berries down on the crouching figure beneath. + +Once only, far down the dark jungled way, with the underlying streak of +yellow that was leading him whither, God only knew--once only Buck +looked back. There was the red light gleaming faintly through the +moonlit flakes of snow. Once more he thought of the Star, and once more +the chaplain's voice came back to him. + +"Mine!" saith the Lord. + +Just how, Buck could not see with himself in the snow and _him_ back +there for life with her and the child, but some strange impulse made him +bare his head. + +"Yourn," said Buck grimly. + +But nobody on Lonesome--not even Buck--knew that it was Christmas Eve. + + + + +THE ARMY OF THE CALLAHAN + + +I + +The dreaded message had come. The lank messenger, who had brought it +from over Black Mountain, dropped into a chair by the stove and sank his +teeth into a great hunk of yellow cheese. "Flitter Bill" Richmond +waddled from behind his counter, and out on the little platform in front +of his cross-roads store. Out there was a group of earth-stained +countrymen, lounging against the rickety fence or swinging on it, their +heels clear of the ground, all whittling, chewing, and talking the +matter over. All looked up at Bill, and he looked down at them, running +his eye keenly from one to another until he came to one powerful young +fellow loosely bent over a wagon-tongue. Even on him, Bill's eyes stayed +but a moment, and then were lifted higher in anxious thought. + +The message had come at last, and the man who brought it had heard it +fall from Black Tom's own lips. The "wild Jay-Hawkers of Kaintuck" were +coming over into Virginia to get Flitter Bill's store, for they were +mountain Unionists and Bill was a valley rebel and lawful prey. It was +past belief. So long had he prospered, and so well, that Bill had come +to feel that he sat safe in the hollow of God's hand. But he now must +have protection--and at once--from the hand of man. + +Roaring Fork sang lustily through the rhododendrons. To the north yawned +"the Gap" through the Cumberland Mountains. "Callahan's Nose," a huge +gray rock, showed plain in the clear air, high above the young foliage, +and under it, and on up the rocky chasm, flashed Flitter Bill's keen +mind, reaching out for help. + +Now, from Virginia to Alabama the Southern mountaineer was a Yankee, +because the national spirit of 1776, getting fresh impetus in 1812 and +new life from the Mexican War, had never died out in the hills. Most +likely it would never have died out, anyway; for, the world over, any +seed of character, individual or national, that is once dropped between +lofty summits brings forth its kind, with deathless tenacity, year after +year. Only, in the Kentucky mountains, there were more slaveholders than +elsewhere in the mountains in the South. These, naturally, fought for +their slaves, and the division thus made the war personal and terrible +between the slaveholders who dared to stay at home, and the Union, +"Home Guards" who organized to drive them away. In Bill's little +Virginia valley, of course, most of the sturdy farmers had shouldered +Confederate muskets and gone to the war. Those who had stayed at home +were, like Bill, Confederate in sympathy, but they lived in safety down +the valley, while Bill traded and fattened just opposite the Gap, +through which a wild road ran over into the wild Kentucky hills. Therein +Bill's danger lay; for, just at this time, the Harlan Home Guard under +Black Tom, having cleared those hills, were making ready, like the Pict +and Scot of olden days, to descend on the Virginia valley and smite the +lowland rebels at the mouth of the Gap. Of the "stay-at-homes," and the +deserters roundabout, there were many, very many, who would "stand in" +with any man who would keep their bellies full, but they were well-nigh +worthless even with a leader, and, without a leader, of no good at all. +Flitter Bill must find a leader for them, and anywhere than in his own +fat self, for a leader of men Bill was not born to be, nor could he see +a leader among the men before him. And so, standing there one early +morning in the spring of 1865, with uplifted gaze, it was no surprise to +him--the coincidence, indeed, became at once one of the articles of +perfect faith in his own star--that he should see afar off, a black +slouch hat and a jogging gray horse rise above a little knoll that was +in line with the mouth of the Gap. At once he crossed his hands over his +chubby stomach with a pious sigh, and at once a plan of action began to +whirl in his little round head. Before man and beast were in full view +the work was done, the hands were unclasped, and Flitter Bill, with a +chuckle, had slowly risen, and was waddling back to his desk in the +store. + +It was a pompous old buck who was bearing down on the old gray horse, +and under the slouch hat with its flapping brim--one Mayhall Wells, by +name. There were but few strands of gray in his thick blue-black hair, +though his years were rounding half a century, and he sat the old nag +with erect dignity and perfect ease. His bearded mouth showed vanity +immeasurable, and suggested a strength of will that his eyes--the real +seat of power--denied, for, while shrewd and keen, they were unsteady. +In reality, he was a great coward, though strong as an ox, and whipping +with ease every man who could force him into a fight. So that, in the +whole man, a sensitive observer would have felt a peculiar pathos, as +though nature had given him a desire to be, and no power to become, and +had then sent him on his zigzag way, never to dream wherein his trouble +lay. + +"Mornin', gentle_men_!" + +"Mornin', Mayhall!" + +All nodded and spoke except Hence Sturgill on the wagon-tongue, who +stopped whittling, and merely looked at the big man with narrowing eyes. + +Tallow Dick, a yellow slave, appeared at the corner of the store, and +the old buck beckoned him to come and hitch his horse. Flitter Bill had +reappeared on the stoop with a piece of white paper in his hand. The +lank messenger sagged in the doorway behind him, ready to start for +home. + +"Mornin' _Captain_ Wells," said Bill, with great respect. Every man +heard the title, stopped his tongue and his knife-blade, and raised his +eyes; a few smiled--Hence Sturgill grinned. Mayhall stared, and Bill's +left eye closed and opened with lightning quickness in a most portentous +wink. Mayhall straightened his shoulders--seeing the game, as did the +crowd at once: Flitter Bill was impressing that messenger in case he had +some dangerous card up his sleeve. + +"_Captain_ Wells," Bill repeated significantly, "I'm sorry to say yo' +new uniform has not arrived yet. I am expecting it to-morrow." Mayhall +toed the line with soldierly promptness. + +"Well, I'm sorry to hear that, suh--sorry to hear it, suh," he said, +with slow, measured speech. "My men are comin' in fast, and you can +hardly realize er--er what it means to an old soldier er--er not to +have--er--" And Mayhall's answering wink was portentous. + +"My friend here is from over in Kaintucky, and the Harlan Home Gyard +over there, he says, is a-making some threats." + +Mayhall laughed. + +"So I have heerd--so I have heerd." He turned to the messenger. "We +shall be ready fer 'em, suh, ready fer 'em with a thousand men--one +thousand men, suh, right hyeh in the Gap--right hyeh in the Gap. Let 'em +come on--let 'em come on!" Mayhall began to rub his hands together as +though the conflict were close at hand, and the mountaineer slapped one +thigh heartily. "Good for you! Give 'em hell!" He was about to slap +Mayhall on the shoulder and call him "pardner," when Flitter Bill +coughed, and Mayhall lifted his chin. + +"Captain Wells?" said Bill. + +"Captain Wells," repeated Mayhall with a stiff salutation, and the +messenger from over Black Mountain fell back with an apologetic laugh. A +few minutes later both Mayhall and Flitter Bill saw him shaking his +head, as he started homeward toward the Gap. Bill laughed silently, but +Mayhall had grown grave. The fun was over and he beckoned Bill inside +the store. + +"Misto Richmond," he said, with hesitancy and an entire change of tone +and manner, "I am afeerd I ain't goin' to be able to pay you that little +amount I owe you, but if you can give me a little mo' time--" + +"Captain Wells," interrupted Bill slowly, and again Mayhall stared hard +at him, "as betwixt friends, as have been pussonal friends fer nigh onto +twenty year, I hope you won't mention that little matter to me +ag'in--until I mentions it to you." + +"But, Misto Richmond, Hence Sturgill out thar says as how he heerd you +say that if I didn't pay--" + +"_Captain_ Wells," interrupted Bill again and again Mayhall stared +hard--it was strange that Bill could have formed the habit of calling +him "Captain" in so short a time--"yestiddy is not to-day, is it? And +to-day is not to-morrow? I axe you--have I said one word about that +little matter _to-day?_ Well, borrow not from yestiddy nor to-morrow, to +make trouble fer to-day. There is other things fer to-day, Captain +Wells." + +Mayhall turned here. + +"Misto Richmond," he said, with great earnestness, "you may not know it, +but three times since thet long-legged jay-hawker's been gone you hev +plainly--and if my ears do not deceive me, an' they never hev--you have +plainly called me '_Captain_ Wells.' I knowed yo' little trick whilst he +was hyeh, fer I knowed whut the feller had come to tell ye; but since +he's been gone, three times, Misto Richmond--" + +"Yes," drawled Bill, with an unction that was strangely sweet to +Mayhall's wondering ears, "an' I do it ag'in, _Captain_ Wells." + +"An' may I axe you," said Mayhall, ruffling a little, "may I axe +you--why you--" + +"Certainly," said Bill, and he handed over the paper that he held in his +hand. + +Mayhall took the paper and looked it up and down helplessly--Flitter +Bill slyly watching him. + +Mayhall handed it back. "If you please, Misto Richmond--I left my specs +at home." Without a smile, Bill began. It was an order from the +commandant at Cumberland Gap, sixty miles farther down Powell's Valley, +authorizing Mayhall Wells to form a company to guard the Gap and to +protect the property of Confederate citizens in the valley; and a +commission of captaincy in the said company for the said Mayhall Wells. +Mayhall's mouth widened to the full stretch of his lean jaws, and, when +Bill was through reading, he silently reached for the paper and looked +it up and down and over and over, muttering: + +"Well--well--well!" And then he pointed silently to the name that was at +the bottom of the paper. + +Bill spelled out the name: + +"_Jefferson Davis_" and Mayhall's big fingers trembled as he pulled them +away, as though to avoid further desecration of that sacred name. + +Then he rose, and a magical transformation began that can be likened--I +speak with reverence--to the turning of water into wine. Captain Mayhall +Wells raised his head, set his chin well in, and kept it there. He +straightened his shoulders, and kept them straight. He paced the floor +with a tread that was martial, and once he stopped before the door with +his right hand thrust under his breast-pocket, and with wrinkling brow +studied the hills. It was a new man--with the water in his blood changed +to wine--who turned suddenly on Flitter Bill Richmond: + +"I can collect a vehy large force in a vehy few days." Flitter Bill knew +that--that he could get together every loafer between the county-seat of +Wise and the county-seat of Lee--but he only said encouragingly: + +"Good!" + +"An' we air to pertect the property--_I_ am to pertect the property of +the Confederate citizens of the valley--that means _you_, Misto +Richmond, and _this store_." + +Bill nodded. + +Mayhall coughed slightly. "There is one thing in the way, I opine. +Whar--I axe you--air we to git somethin' to eat fer my command?" Bill +had anticipated this. + +"I'll take keer o' that." + +Captain Wells rubbed his hands. + +"Of co'se, of co'se--you are a soldier and a patriot--you can afford to +feed 'em as a slight return fer the pertection I shall give you and +yourn." + +"Certainly," agreed Bill dryly, and with a prophetic stir of uneasiness. + +"Vehy--vehy well. I shall begin _now_, Misto Richmond." And, to Flitter +Bill's wonder, the captain stalked out to the stoop, announced his +purpose with the voice of an auctioneer, and called for volunteers then +and there. There was dead silence for a moment. Then there was a smile +here, a chuckle there, an incredulous laugh, and Hence Sturgill, "bully +of the Pocket," rose from the wagon-tongue, closed his knife, came +slowly forward, and cackled his scorn straight up into the teeth of +Captain Mayhall Wells. The captain looked down and began to shed his +coat. + +"I take it, Hence Sturgill, that you air laughin' at me?" + +"I am a-laughin' at _you_, Mayhall Wells," he said, contemptuously, but +he was surprised at the look on the good-natured giant's face. + +"_Captain_ Mayhall Wells, ef you please." + +"Plain ole Mayhall Wells," said Hence, and Captain Wells descended with +no little majesty and "biffed" him. + +The delighted crowd rose to its feet and gathered around. Tallow Dick +came running from the barn. It was biff--biff, and biff again, but not +nip and tuck for long. Captain Mayhall closed in. Hence Sturgill struck +the earth like a Homeric pine, and the captain's mighty arm played above +him and fell, resounding. In three minutes Hence, to the amazement of +the crowd, roared: + +"'Nough!" + +But Mayhall breathed hard and said quietly: + +"_Captain_ Wells!": + +Hence shouted, "Plain ole--" But the captain's huge fist was poised in +the air over his face. + +"Captain Wells," he growled, and the captain rose and calmly put on his +coat, while the crowd looked respectful, and Hence Sturgill staggered to +one side, as though beaten in spirit, strength, and wits as well. The +captain beckoned Flitter Bill inside the store. His manner had a +distinct savor of patronage. + +[Illustration: Captain Wells descended with no little majesty and +"biffed" him.] + +"Misto Richmond," he said, "I make you--I appoint you, by the authority +of Jefferson Davis and the Confederate States of Ameriky, as +commissary-gineral of the Army of the Callahan." + +"As _what_?" Bill's eyes blinked at the astounding dignity of his +commission. + +"Gineral Richmond, I shall not repeat them words." And he didn't, but +rose and made his way toward his old gray mare. Tallow Dick held his +bridle. + +"Dick," he said jocosely, "goin' to run away ag'in?" The negro almost +paled, and then, with a look at a blacksnake whip that hung on the barn +door, grinned. + +"No, suh--no, suh--'deed I ain't, suh--no mo'." + +Mounted, the captain dropped a three-cent silver piece in the startled +negro's hand. Then he vouchsafed the wondering Flitter Bill and the +gaping crowd a military salute and started for the yawning mouth of the +Gap--riding with shoulders squared and chin well in--riding as should +ride the commander of the Army of the Callahan. + +Flitter Bill dropped his blinking eyes to the paper in his hand that +bore the commission of Jefferson Davis and the Confederate States of +America to Mayhall Wells of Callahan, and went back into his store. He +looked at it a long time and then he laughed, but without much mirth. + + + +II + +Grass had little chance to grow for three weeks thereafter under the +cowhide boots of Captain Mayhall Wells. When the twentieth morning came +over the hills, the mist parted over the Stars and Bars floating from +the top of a tall poplar up through the Gap and flaunting brave defiance +to Black Tom, his Harlan Home Guard, and all other jay-hawking Unionists +of the Kentucky hills. It parted over the Army of the Callahan asleep on +its arms in the mouth of the chasm, over Flitter Bill sitting, sullen +and dejected, on the stoop of his store; and over Tallow Dick stealing +corn bread from the kitchen to make ready for flight that night through +the Gap, the mountains, and to the yellow river that was the Mecca of +the runaway slave. + +At the mouth of the Gap a ragged private stood before a ragged tent, +raised a long dinner horn to his lips, and a mighty blast rang through +the hills, reveille! And out poured the Army of the Callahan from shack, +rock-cave, and coverts of sticks and leaves, with squirrel rifles, +Revolutionary muskets, shotguns, clasp-knives, and horse pistols for +the duties of the day under Lieutenant Skaggs, tactician, and Lieutenant +Boggs, quondam terror of Roaring Fork. + +That blast rang down the valley into Flitter Bill's ears and startled +him into action. It brought Tallow Dick's head out of the barn door and +made him grin. + +"Dick!" Flitter Bill's call was sharp and angry. + +"Yes, suh!" + +"Go tell ole Mayhall Wells that I ain't goin' to send him nary another +pound o' bacon an' nary another tin cup o' meal--no, by ----, I ain't." + +Half an hour later the negro stood before the ragged tent of the +commander of the Army of the Callahan. + +"Marse Bill say he ain't gwine to sen' you no mo' rations--no mo'." + +"_What_!" + +Tallow Dick repeated his message and the captain scowled--mutiny! + +"Fetch my hoss!" he thundered. + +Very naturally and very swiftly had the trouble come, for straight after +the captain's fight with Hence Sturgill there had been a mighty rally to +the standard of Mayhall Wells. From Pigeon's Creek the loafers +came--from Roaring Fork, Cracker's Neck, from the Pocket down the +valley, and from Turkey Cove. Recruits came so fast, and to such +proportions grew the Army of the Callahan, that Flitter Bill shrewdly +suggested at once that Captain Wells divide it into three companies and +put one up Pigeon's Creek under Lieutenant Jim Skaggs and one on +Callahan under Lieutenant Tom Boggs, while the captain, with a third, +should guard the mouth of the Gap. Bill's idea was to share with those +districts the honor of his commissary-generalship; but Captain Wells +crushed the plan like a dried puffball. + +"Yes," he said, with fine sarcasm. "What will them Kanetuckians do then? +Don't you know, Gineral Richmond? Why, I'll tell you what they'll do. +They'll jest swoop down on Lieutenant Boggs and gobble him up. Then +they'll swoop down on Lieutenant Skaggs on Pigeon and gobble him up. +Then they'll swoop down on me and gobble me up. No, they won't gobble +_me_ up, but they'll come damn nigh it. An' what kind of a report will I +make to Jeff Davis, Gineral Richmond? _Captured In detail_, suh? No, +suh. I'll jest keep Lieutenant Boggs and Lieutenant Skaggs close by me, +and we'll pitch our camp right here in the Gap whar we can pertect the +property of Confederate citizens and be close to our base o' supplies, +suh. That's what I'll do!" + +"Gineral Richmond" groaned, and when in the next breath the mighty +captain casually inquired if _that uniform of his_ had come yet, Flitter +Bill's fat body nearly rolled off his chair. + +"You will please have it here next Monday," said the captain, with great +firmness. "It is necessary to the proper discipline of my troops." And +it was there the following Monday--a regimental coat, gray jeans +trousers, and a forage cap that Bill purchased from a passing Morgan +raider. Daily orders would come from Captain Wells to General Flitter +Bill Richmond to send up more rations, and Bill groaned afresh when a +man from Callahan told how the captain's family was sprucing up on meal +and flour and bacon from the captain's camp. Humiliation followed. It +had never occurred to Captain Wells that being a captain made it +incongruous for him to have a "general" under him, until Lieutenant +Skaggs, who had picked up a manual of tactics somewhere, cautiously +communicated his discovery. Captain Wells saw the point at once. There +was but one thing to do--to reduce General Richmond to the ranks--and it +was done. Technically, thereafter, the general was purveyor for the Army +of the Callahan, but to the captain himself he was--gallingly to the +purveyor--simple Flitter Bill. + +The strange thing was that, contrary to his usual shrewdness, it should +have taken Flitter Bill so long to see that the difference between +having his store robbed by the Kentucky jay-hawkers and looted by +Captain Wells was the difference between tweedle-dum and tweedle-dee, +but, when he did see, he forged a plan of relief at once. When the +captain sent down Lieutenant Boggs for a supply of rations, Bill sent +the saltiest, rankest bacon he could find, with a message that he wanted +to see the great man. As before, when Captain Wells rode down to the +store, Bill handed out a piece of paper, and, as before, the captain had +left his "specs" at home. The paper was an order that, whereas the +distinguished services of Captain Wells to the Confederacy were +appreciated by Jefferson Davis, the said Captain Wells was, and is, +hereby empowered to duly, and in accordance with the tactics of war, +impress what live-stock he shall see fit and determine fit for the good +of his command. The news was joy to the Army of the Callahan. Before it +had gone the rounds of the camp Lieutenant Boggs had spied a fat heifer +browsing on the edge of the woods and ordered her surrounded and driven +down. Without another word, when she was close enough, he raised his +gun and would have shot her dead in her tracks had he not been arrested +by a yell of command and horror from his superior. + +"Air you a-goin' to have me cashiered and shot, Lieutenant Boggs, fer +violatin' the ticktacks of war?" roared the captain, indignantly. "Don't +you know that I've got to _impress_ that heifer accordin' to the rules +an' regulations? Git roun' that heifer." The men surrounded her. "Take +her by the horns. Now! In the name of Jefferson Davis and the +Confederate States of Ameriky, I hereby and hereon do duly impress this +heifer for the purposes and use of the Army of the Callahan, so help me +God! Shoot her down, Bill Boggs, shoot her down!" + +Now, naturally, the soldiers preferred fresh meat, and they got +it--impressing cattle, sheep, and hogs, geese, chickens, and ducks, +vegetables--nothing escaped the capacious maw of the Army of the +Callahan. It was a beautiful idea, and the success of it pleased Flitter +Bill mightily, but the relief did not last long. An indignant murmur +rose up and down valley and creek bottom against the outrages, and one +angry old farmer took a pot-shot at Captain Wells with a squirrel rifle, +clipping the visor of his forage cap; and from that day the captain +began to call with immutable regularity again on Flitter Bill for bacon +and meal. That morning the last straw fell in a demand for a wagon-load +of rations to be delivered before noon, and, worn to the edge of his +patience, Bill had sent a reckless refusal. And now he was waiting on +the stoop of his store, looking at the mouth of the Gap and waiting for +it to give out into the valley Captain Wells and his old gray mare. And +at last, late in the afternoon, there was the captain coming--coming at +a swift gallop--and Bill steeled himself for the onslaught like a knight +in a joust against a charging antagonist. The captain saluted +stiffly--pulling up sharply and making no move to dismount. + +"Purveyor," he said, "Black Tom has just sent word that he's a-comin' +over hyeh this week--have you heerd that, purveyor?" Bill was silent. + +"Black Tom says you _air_ responsible for the Army of the Callahan. Have +you heerd that, purveyor?" Still was there silence. + +"He says he's a-goin' to hang me to that poplar whar floats them Stars +and Bars"--Captain Mayhall Wells chuckled--"an' he says he's a-goin' to +hang _you_ thar fust, though; have you heerd _that_, purveyor?" + +The captain dropped the titular address now, and threw one leg over the +pommel of his saddle. + +"Flitter Bill Richmond," he said, with great nonchalance, "I axe you--do +you prefer that I should disband the Army of the Callahan, or do you +not?" + +"No." + +The captain was silent a full minute, and his face grew stern. "Flitter +Bill Richmond, I had no idee o' disbandin' the Army of the Callahan, but +do you know what I did aim to do?" Again Bill was silent. + +"Well, suh, I'll tell you whut I aim to do. If you don't send them +rations I'll have you cashiered for mutiny, an' if Black Tom don't hang +you to that air poplar, I'll hang you thar myself, suh; yes, by ----! I +will. Dick!" he called sharply to the slave. "Hitch up that air wagon, +fill hit full o' bacon and meal, and drive it up thar to my tent. An' be +mighty damn quick about it, or I'll hang you, too." + +The negro gave a swift glance to his master, and Flitter Bill feebly +waved acquiescence. + +"Purveyor, I wish you good-day." + +Bill gazed after the great captain in dazed wonder (was this the man who +had come cringing to him only a few short weeks ago?) and groaned aloud. + +But for lucky or unlucky coincidence, how could the prophet ever have +gained name and fame on earth? + +Captain Wells rode back to camp chuckling--chuckling with satisfaction +and pride; but the chuckle passed when he caught sight of his tent. In +front of it were his lieutenants and some half a dozen privates, all +plainly in great agitation, and in the midst of them stood the lank +messenger who had brought the first message from Black Tom, delivering +another from the same source. Black Tom _was_ coming, coming surer and +unless that flag, that "Rebel rag," were hauled down under twenty-four +hours, Black Tom would come over and pull it down, and to that same +poplar hang "Captain Mayhall an' his whole damn army." Black Tom might +do it anyhow--just for fun. + +While the privates listened the captain strutted and swore; then he +rested his hand on his hip and smiled with silent sarcasm, and then +swore again--while the respectful lieutenants and the awed soldiery of +the Callahan looked on. Finally he spoke. + +"Ah--when did Black Tom say that?" he inquired casually. + +"Yestiddy mornin'. He said he was goin' to start over hyeh early this +mornin'." The captain whirled. + +"What? Then why didn't you git over hyeh _this_ mornin'?" + +"Couldn't git across the river last night." + +"Then he's a-comin' to-day?" + +"I reckon Black Tom'll be hyeh in about two hours--mebbe he ain't fer +away now." The captain was startled. + +"Lieutenant Skaggs," he called, sharply, "git yo' men out thar an' draw +'em up in two rows!" + +The face of the student of military tactics looked horrified. The +captain in his excitement had relaxed into language that was distinctly +agricultural, and, catching the look on his subordinate's face, and at +the same time the reason for it, he roared, indignantly: + +"Air you afeer'd, sir? Git yo' men out, I said, an' march 'em up thar in +front of the Gap. Lieutenant Boggs, take ten men and march at double +quick through the Gap, an' defend that poplar with yo' life's blood. If +you air overwhelmed by superior numbers, fall back, suh, step by step, +until you air re-enforced by Lieutenant Skaggs. If you two air not able +to hold the enemy in check, you may count on me an' the Army of the +Callahan to grind _him_--" (How the captain, now thoroughly aroused to +all the fine terms of war, did roll that technical "him" under his +tongue)--"to grind him to pieces ag'in them towerin' rocks, and plunge +him in the foilin' waters of Roarin' Fawk. Forward, suh--double quick." +Lieutenant Skaggs touched his cap. Lieutenant Boggs looked embarrassed +and strode nearer. + +"Captain, whar am I goin' to git ten men to face them Kanetuckians?" + +"Whar air they goin' to git a off'cer to lead 'em, you'd better say," +said the captain, severely, fearing that some of the soldiers had heard +the question. "If you air afeer'd, suh"--and then he saw that no one had +heard, and he winked--winked with most unmilitary familiarity. + +"Air you a good climber, Lieutenant Boggs?" Lieutenant Boggs looked +mystified, but he said he was. + +"Lieutenant Boggs, I now give you the opportunity to show yo' profound +knowledge of the ticktacks of war. You may now be guilty of disobedience +of ordahs, and I will not have you court-martialled for the same. In +other words, if, after a survey of the situation, you think best--why," +the captain's voice dropped to a hoarse whisper, "pull that flag down, +lieutenant Boggs, pull her down." + + + +III + +It was an hour by sun now. Lieutenant Boggs and his devoted band of ten +were making their way slowly and watchfully up the mighty chasm--the +lieutenant with his hand on his sword and his head bare, and bowed in +thought. The Kentuckians were on their way--at that moment they might be +riding full speed toward the mouth of Pigeon, where floated the flag. +They might gobble him and his command up when they emerged from the Gap. +Suppose they caught him up that tree. His command might escape, but _he_ +would be up there, saving them the trouble of stringing him up. All they +would have to do would be to send up after him a man with a rope, and +let him drop. That was enough. Lieutenant Boggs called a halt and +explained the real purpose of the expedition. + +"We will wait here till dark," he said, "so them Kanetuckians can't +ketch us, whilst we are climbing that tree." + +And so they waited opposite Bee Rock, which was making ready to blossom +with purple rhododendrons. And the reserve back in the Gap, under +Lieutenant Skaggs, waited. Waited, too, the Army of the Callahan at the +mouth of the Gap, and waited restlessly Captain Wells at the door of his +tent, and Flitter Bill on the stoop of his store--waited everybody but +Tallow Dick, who, in the general confusion, was slipping through the +rhododendrons along the bank of Roaring Fork, until he could climb the +mountain-side and slip through the Gap high over the army's head. + +What could have happened? + +When dusk was falling, Captain Wells dispatched a messenger to +Lieutenant Skaggs and his reserve, and got an answer; Lieutenant Skaggs +feared that Boggs had been captured without the firing of a single +shot--but the flag was floating still. An hour later, Lieutenant Skaggs +sent another message--he could not see the flag. Captain Wells answered, +stoutly: + +"Hold yo' own." + +And so, as darkness fell, the Army of the Callahan waited in the strain +of mortal expectancy as one man; and Flitter Bill waited, with his horse +standing saddled in the barn, ready for swift flight. And, as darkness +fell, Tallow Dick was cautiously picking his way alongside the steep +wall of the Gap toward freedom, and picking it with stealthy caution, +foot by foot; for up there, to this day, big loose rocks mount halfway +to the jagged points of the black cliffs, and a careless step would have +detached one and sent an avalanche of rumbling stones down to betray +him. A single shot rang suddenly out far up through the Gap, and the +startled negro sprang forward, slipped, and, with a low, frightened +oath, lay still. Another shot followed, and another. Then a hoarse +murmur rose, loudened into thunder, and ended in a frightful--boom! One +yell rang from the army's throat: + +"The Kentuckians! The Kentuckians! The wild, long-haired, terrible +Kentuckians!" + +Captain Wells sprang into the air. + +"My God, they've got a cannon!" + +Then there was a martial chorus--the crack of rifle, the hoarse cough of +horse-pistol, the roar of old muskets. + +"Bing! Bang! Boom! Bing--bing! Bang--bang! Boom--boom! +Bing--bang--boom!" + +Lieutenant Skaggs and his reserves heard the beat of running feet down +the Gap. + +"They've gobbled Boggs," he said, and the reserve rushed after him as he +fled. The army heard the beat of their coming feet. + +"They've gobbled Skaggs," the army said. + +Then was there bedlam as the army fled--a crashing through bushes--a +splashing into the river, the rumble of mule wagons, yells of terror, +swift flying shapes through the pale moonlight. Flitter Bill heard the +din as he stood by his barn door. + +"They've gobbled the army," said Flitter Bill, and he, too, fled like a +shadow down the valley. + +Nature never explodes such wild and senseless energy as when she lets +loose a mob in a panic. With the army, it was each man for himself and +devil take the hindmost; and the flight of the army was like a flight +from the very devil himself. Lieutenant Boggs, whose feet were the +swiftest in the hills, outstripped his devoted band. Lieutenant Skaggs, +being fat and slow, fell far behind his reserve, and dropped exhausted +on a rock for a moment to get his breath. As he rose, panting, to resume +flight, a figure bounded out of the darkness behind him, and he gathered +it in silently and went with it to the ground, where both fought +silently in the dust until they rolled into the moonlight and each +looked the other in the face. + +"That you, Jim Skaggs?" + +"That you, Tom Boggs?" + +Then the two lieutenants rose swiftly, but a third shape bounded into +the road--a gigantic figure--Black Tom! With a startled yell they +gathered him in--one by the waist, the other about the neck, and, for a +moment, the terrible Kentuckian--it could be none other--swung the two +clear of the ground, but the doughty lieutenants hung to him. Boggs +trying to get his knife and Skaggs his pistol, and all went down in a +heap. + +"I surrender--I surrender!" It was the giant who spoke, and at the sound +of his voice both men ceased to struggle, and, strange to say, no one of +the three laughed. + +"Lieutenant Boggs," said Captain Wells, thickly, "take yo' thumb out o' +my mouth. Lieutenant Skaggs, leggo my leg an' stop bitin' me." + +"Sh--sh--sh--" said all three. + +The faint swish of bushes as Lieutenant Boggs's ten men scuttled into +the brush behind them--the distant beat of the army's feet getting +fainter ahead of them, and then silence--dead, dead silence. + +"Sh--sh--sh!" + +With the red streaks of dawn Captain Mayhall Wells was pacing up and +down in front of Flitter Bill's store, a gaping crowd about him, and the +shattered remnants of the army drawn up along Roaring Fork in the rear. +An hour later Flitter Bill rode calmly in. + +"I stayed all night down the valley," said Flitter Bill. "Uncle Jim +Richmond was sick. I hear you had some trouble last night, Captain +Wells." The captain expanded his chest. + +"Trouble!" he repeated, sarcastically. And then he told how a charging +horde of daredevils had driven him from camp with overwhelming numbers +and one piece of artillery; how he had rallied the army and fought them +back, foot by foot, and put them to fearful rout; how the army had +fallen back again just when the Kentuckians were running like sheep, and +how he himself had stayed in the rear with Lieutenant Boggs and +Lieutenant Skaggs, "to cover their retreat, suh," and how the purveyor, +if he would just go up through the Gap, would doubtless find the cannon +that the enemy had left behind in their flight. It was just while he was +thus telling the tale for the twentieth time that two figures appeared +over the brow of the hill and drew near--Hence Sturgill on horseback and +Tallow Dick on foot. + +"I ketched this nigger in my corn-fiel' this mornin'," said Hence, +simply, and Flitter Bill glared, and without a word went for the +blacksnake ox-whip that hung by the barn door. + +For the twenty-first time Captain Wells started his tale again, and with +every pause that he made for breath Hence cackled scorn. + +"An', Hence Sturgill, ef you will jus' go up in the Gap you'll find a +cannon, captured, suh, by me an' the Army of the Callahan, an'--" + +"Cannon!" Hence broke in. "Speak up, nigger!" And Tallow Dick spoke +up--grinning: + +"I done it!" + +"What!" shouted Flitter Bill. + +"I kicked a rock loose climbin' over Callahan's Nose." + +Bill dropped his whip with a chuckle of pure ecstasy. Mayhall paled and +stared. The crowd roared, the Army of the Callahan grinned, and Hence +climbed back on his horse. + +"Mayhall Wells," he said, "plain ole Mayhall Wells, I'll see you on +Couht Day. I ain't got time now." + +And he rode away. + +[Illustration: "Speak up, nigger."] + + + +IV + +That day Captain Mayhall Wells and the Army of the Callahan were in +disrepute. Next day the awful news of Lee's surrender came. Captain +Wells refused to believe it, and still made heroic effort to keep his +shattered command together. Looking for recruits on Court Day, he was +twitted about the rout of the army by Hence Sturgill, whose long-coveted +chance to redeem himself had come. Again, as several times before, the +captain declined to fight--his health was essential to the general +well-being--but Hence laughed in his face, and the captain had to face +the music, though the heart of him was gone. + +He fought well, for he was fighting for his all, and he knew it. He +could have whipped with ease, and he did whip, but the spirit of the +thoroughbred was not in Captain Mayhall Wells. He had Sturgill down, but +Hence sank his teeth into Mayhall's thigh while Mayhall's hands grasped +his opponent's throat. The captain had only to squeeze, as every +rough-and-tumble fighter knew, and endure his pain until Hence would +have to give in. But Mayhall was not built to endure. He roared like a +bull as soon as the teeth met in his flesh, his fingers relaxed, and to +the disgusted surprise of everybody he began to roar with great +distinctness and agony: + +"'Nough! 'Nough!" + +The end was come, and nobody knew it better than Mayhall Wells. He rode +home that night with hands folded on the pommel of his saddle and his +beard crushed by his chin against his breast. For the last time, next +morning he rode down to Flitter Bill's store. On the way he met Parson +Kilburn and for the last time Mayhall Wells straightened his shoulders +and for one moment more resumed his part: perhaps the parson had not +heard of his fall. + +"Good-mornin', parsing," he said, pleasantly. "Ah--where have you been?" +The parson was returning from Cumberland Gap, whither he had gone to +take the oath of allegiance. + +"By the way, I have something here for you which Flitter Bill asked me +to give you. He said it was from the commandant at Cumberland Gap." + +"Fer me?" asked the captain--hope springing anew in his heart. The +parson handed him a letter. Mayhall looked at it upside down. + +"If you please, parsing," he said, handing it back, "I hev left my +specs at home." + +The parson read that, whereas Captain Wells had been guilty of grave +misdemeanors while in command of the Army of the Callahan, he should be +arrested and court-martialled for the same, or be given the privilege of +leaving the county in twenty-four hours. Mayhall's face paled a little +and he stroked his beard. + +"Ah--does anybody but you know about this ordah, parsing?" + +"Nobody." + +"Well, if you will do me the great favor, parsing, of not mentioning it +to nary a living soul--as fer me and my ole gray hoss and my household +furniture--we'll be in Kanetuck afore daybreak to-morrow mornin'!" And +he was. + +But he rode on just then and presented himself for the last time at the +store of Flitter Bill. Bill was sitting on the stoop in his favorite +posture. And in a moment there stood before him plain Mayhall +Wells--holding out the order Bill had given the parson that day. + +"Misto Richmond," he said, "I have come to tell you good-by." + +Now just above the selfish layers of fat under Flitter Bill's chubby +hands was a very kind heart. When he saw Mayhall's old manner and heard +the old respectful way of address, and felt the dazed helplessness of +the big, beaten man, the heart thumped. + +"I am sorry about that little amount I owe you; I think I'll be able +shortly--" But Bill cut him short. Mayhall Wells, beaten, disgraced, +driven from home on charge of petty crimes, of which he was undoubtedly +guilty, but for which Bill knew he himself was responsible--Mayhall on +his way into exile and still persuading himself and, at that moment, +almost persuading him that he meant to pay that little debt of long +ago--was too much for Flitter Bill, and he proceeded to lie--lying with +deliberation and pleasure. + +"Captain Wells," he said--and the emphasis on the title was balm to +Mayhall's soul--"you have protected me in time of war, an' you air +welcome to yo' uniform an' you air welcome to that little debt. Yes," he +went on, reaching down into his pocket and pulling out a roll of bills, +"I tender you in payment for that same protection the regular pay of a +officer in the Confederate service"--and he handed out the army pay for +three months in Confederate greenbacks--"an' five dollars in money of +the United States, of which I an', doubtless, you, suh, air true and +loyal citizens. Captain Wells, I bid you good-by an' I wish ye well--I +wish ye well." + +From the stoop of his store Bill watched the captain ride away, +drooping at the shoulders, and with his hands folded on the pommel of +his saddle--his dim blue eyes misty, the jaunty forage cap a mockery of +his iron-gray hair, and the flaps of his coat fanning either side like +mournful wings. + +And Flitter Bill muttered to himself: + +"Atter he's gone long enough fer these things to blow over, I'm going to +bring him back and give him another chance--yes, damme if I don't git +him back." + +And Bill dropped his remorseful eye to the order in his hand. Like the +handwriting of the order that lifted Mayhall like magic into power, the +handwriting of this order, that dropped him like a stone--was Flitter +Bill's own. + + + + +THE PARDON OF BECKY DAY + + +The missionary was young and she was from the North. Her brows were +straight, her nose was rather high, and her eyes were clear and gray. +The upper lip of her little mouth was so short that the teeth just under +it were never quite concealed. It was the mouth of a child and it gave +the face, with all its strength and high purpose, a peculiar pathos that +no soul in that little mountain town had the power to see or feel. A +yellow mule was hitched to the rickety fence in front of her and she +stood on the stoop of a little white frame-house with an elm switch +between her teeth and gloves on her hands, which were white and looked +strong. The mule wore a man's saddle, but no matter--the streets were +full of yellow pools, the mud was ankle-deep, and she was on her way to +the sick-bed of Becky Day. + +There was a flood that morning. All the preceding day the rains had +drenched the high slopes unceasingly. That night, the rain-clear forks +of the Kentucky got yellow and rose high, and now they crashed together +around the town and, after a heaving conflict, started the river on one +quivering, majestic sweep to the sea. + +Nobody gave heed that the girl rode a mule or that the saddle was not +her own, and both facts she herself quickly forgot. This half log, half +frame house on a corner had stood a siege once. She could yet see bullet +holes about the door. Through this window, a revenue officer from the +Blue Grass had got a bullet in the shoulder from a garden in the rear. +Standing in the post-office door only just one month before, she herself +had seen children scurrying like rabbits through the back-yard fences, +men running silently here and there, men dodging into doorways, fire +flashing in the street and from every house--and not a sound but the +crack of pistol and Winchester; for the mountain men deal death in all +the terrible silence of death. And now a preacher with a long scar +across his forehead had come to the one little church in the place and +the fervor of religion was struggling with feudal hate for possession of +the town. To the girl, who saw a symbol in every mood of the earth, the +passions of these primitive people were like the treacherous streams of +the uplands--now quiet as sunny skies and now clashing together with but +little less fury and with much more noise. And the roar of the flood +above the wind that late afternoon was the wrath of the Father, that +with the peace of the Son so long on earth, such things still could be. +Once more trouble was threatening and that day even she knew that +trouble might come, but she rode without fear, for she went when and +where she pleased as any woman can, throughout the Cumberland, without +insult or harm. + +At the end of the street were two houses that seemed to front each other +with unmistakable enmity. In them were two men who had wounded each +other only the day before, and who that day would lead the factions, if +the old feud broke loose again. One house was close to the frothing hem +of the flood--a log-hut with a shed of rough boards for a kitchen--the +home of Becky Day. + +The other was across the way and was framed and smartly painted. On the +steps sat a woman with her head bare and her hands under her +apron--widow of the Marcum whose death from a bullet one month before +had broken the long truce of the feud. A groaning curse was growled from +the window as the girl drew near, and she knew it came from a wounded +Marcum who had lately come back from the West to avenge his brother's +death. + +"Why don't you go over to see your neighbor?" The girl's clear eyes gave +no hint that she knew--as she well did--the trouble between the houses, +and the widow stared in sheer amazement, for mountaineers do not talk +with strangers of the quarrels between them. + +"I have nothin' to do with such as her," she said, sullenly; "she ain't +the kind--" + +"Don't!" said the girl, with a flush, "she's dying." + +"_Dyin?_" + +"Yes." With the word the girl sprang from the mule and threw the reins +over the pale of the fence in front of the log-hut across the way. In +the doorway she turned as though she would speak to the woman on the +steps again, but a tall man with a black beard appeared in the low door +of the kitchen-shed. + +"How is your--how is Mrs. Day?" + +"Mighty puny this mornin'--Becky is." + +The girl slipped into the dark room. On a disordered, pillowless bed lay +a white face with eyes closed and mouth slightly open. Near the bed was +a low wood fire. On the hearth were several thick cups filled with herbs +and heavy fluids and covered with tarpaulin, for Becky's "man" was a +teamster. With a few touches of the girl's quick hands, the covers of +the bed were smooth, and the woman's eyes rested on the girl's own +cloak. With her own handkerchief she brushed the death-damp from the +forehead that already seemed growing cold. At her first touch, the +woman's eyelids opened and dropped together again. Her lips moved, but +no sound came from them. + +In a moment the ashes disappeared, the hearth was clean and the fire was +blazing. Every time the girl passed the window she saw the widow across +the way staring hard at the hut. When she took the ashes into the +street, the woman spoke to her. + +"I can't go to see Becky--she hates me." + +"With good reason." + +The answer came with a clear sharpness that made the widow start and +redden angrily; but the girl walked straight to the gate, her eyes +ablaze with all the courage that the mountain woman knew and yet with +another courage to which the primitive creature was a stranger--a +courage that made the widow lower her own eyes and twist her hands under +her apron. + +"I want you to come and ask Becky to forgive you." + +The woman stared and laughed. + +"Forgive me? Becky forgive me? She wouldn't--an' I don't want her--" She +could not look up into the girl's eyes; but she pulled a pipe from under +the apron, laid it down with a trembling hand and began to rock +slightly. + +The girl leaned across the gate. + +"Look at me!" she said, sharply. The woman raised her eyes, swerved +them once, and then in spite of herself, held them steady. + +"Listen! Do you want a dying woman's curse?" + +It was a straight thrust to the core of a superstitious heart and a +spasm of terror crossed the woman's face. She began to wring her hands. + +"Come on!" said the girl, sternly, and turned, without looking back, +until she reached the door of the hut, where she beckoned and stood +waiting, while the woman started slowly and helplessly from the steps, +still wringing her hands. Inside, behind her, the wounded Marcum, who +had been listening, raised himself on one elbow and looked after her +through the window. + +"She can't come in--not while I'm in here." + +The girl turned quickly. It was Dave Day, the teamster, in the kitchen +door, and his face looked blacker than his beard. + +"Oh!" she said, simply, as though hurt, and then with a dignity that +surprised her, the teamster turned and strode towards the back door. + +"But I can git out, I reckon," he said, and he never looked at the widow +who had stopped, frightened, at the gate. + +"Oh, I can't--I _can't!_" she said, and her voice broke; but the girl +gently pushed her to the door, where she stopped again, leaning against +the lintel. Across the way, the wounded Marcum, with a scowl of wonder, +crawled out of his bed and started painfully to the door. The girl saw +him and her heart beat fast. + +Inside, Becky lay with closed eyes. She stirred uneasily, as though she +felt some hated presence, but her eyes stayed fast, for the presence of +Death in the room was stronger still. + +"Becky!" At the broken cry, Becky's eyes flashed wide and fire broke +through the haze that had gathered in them. + +"I want ye ter fergive me, Becky." + +The eyes burned steadily for a long time. For two days she had not +spoken, but her voice came now, as though from the grave. + +"You!" she said, and, again, with torturing scorn, "You!" And then she +smiled, for she knew why her enemy was there, and her hour of triumph +was come. The girl moved swiftly to the window--she could see the +wounded Marcum slowly crossing the street, pistol in hand. + +"What'd I ever do to you?" + +"Nothin', Becky, nothin'." + +Becky laughed harshly. "You can tell the truth--can't ye--to a dyin' +woman?" + +"Fergive me, Becky!" + +A scowling face, tortured with pain, was thrust into the window. + +"Sh-h!" whispered the girl, imperiously, and the man lifted his heavy +eyes, dropped one elbow on the window-sill and waited. + +"You tuk Jim from me!" + +The widow covered her face with her hands, and the Marcum at the +window--brother to Jim, who was dead--lowered at her, listening keenly. + +"An' you got him by lyin' 'bout me. You tuk him by lyin' 'bout +me--didn't ye? Didn't ye?" she repeated, fiercely, and her voice would +have wrung the truth from a stone. + +"Yes--Becky--yes!" + +"You hear?" cried Becky, turning her eyes to the girl. + +"You made him believe an' made ever'body, you could, believe that I +was--was _bad_" Her breath got short, but the terrible arraignment went +on. + +"You started this war. My brother wouldn't 'a' shot Jim Marcum if it +hadn't been fer you. You killed Jim--your own husband--an' you killed +_me_. An' now you want me to fergive you--you!" She raised her right +hand as though with it she would hurl the curse behind her lips, and the +widow, with a cry, sprang for the bony fingers, catching them in her own +hand and falling over on her knees at the bedside. + +"Don't, Becky, don't--don't--_don't!_" + +There was a slight rustle at the back window. At the other, a pistol +flashed into sight and dropped again below the sill. Turning, the girl +saw Dave's bushy black head--he, too, with one elbow on the sill and the +other hand out of sight. + +"Shame!" she said, looking from one to the other of the two men, who had +learned, at last, the bottom truth of the feud; and then she caught the +sick woman's other hand and spoke quickly. + +"Hush, Becky," she said; and at the touch of her hand and the sound of +her voice, Becky looked confusedly at her and let her upraised hand sink +back to the bed. The widow stared swiftly from Jim's brother, at one +window, to Dave Day at the other, and hid her face on her arms. + +"Remember, Becky--how can you expect forgiveness in another world, +unless you forgive in this?" + +The woman's brow knitted and she lay quiet. Like the widow who held her +hand, the dying woman believed, with never the shadow of a doubt, that +somewhere above the stars, a living God reigned in a heaven of +never-ending happiness; that somewhere beneath the earth a personal +devil gloated over souls in eternal torture; that whether she went +above, or below, hung solely on her last hour of contrition; and that +in heaven or hell she would know those whom she might meet as surely as +she had known them on earth. By and by her face softened and she drew a +long breath. + +"Jim was a good man," she said. And then after a moment: + +"An' I was a good woman"--she turned her eyes towards the girl--"until +Jim married _her_. I didn't keer after that." Then she got calm, and +while she spoke to the widow, she looked at the girl. + +"Will you git up in church an' say before everybody that you knew I was +_good_ when you said I was bad--that you lied about me?" + +"Yes--yes." Still Becky looked at the girl, who stooped again. + +"She will, Becky, I know she will. Won't you forgive her and leave peace +behind you? Dave and Jim's brother are here--make them shake hands. +Won't you--won't you?" she asked, turning from one to the other. + +Both men were silent. + +"Won't you?" she repeated, looking at Jim's brother. + +"I've got nothin' agin Dave. I always thought that she"--he did not call +his brother's wife by name--"caused all this trouble. I've nothin' agin +Dave." + +The girl turned. "Won't you, Dave?" + +"I'm waitin' to hear whut Becky says." + +Becky was listening, though her eyes were closed. Her brows knitted +painfully. It was a hard compromise that she was asked to make i between +mortal hate and a love that was more than mortal, but the Plea that has +stood between them for nearly twenty centuries prevailed, and the girl +knew that the end of the feud was nigh. + +Becky nodded. + +"Yes, I fergive her, an' I want 'em to shake hands." + +But not once did she turn her eyes to the woman whom she forgave, and +the hand that the widow held gave back no answering pressure. The faces +at the windows disappeared, and she motioned for the girl to take her +weeping enemy away. + +She did not open her eyes when the girl came back, but her lips moved +and the girl bent above her. + +"I know whar Jim is." + +From somewhere outside came Dave's cough, and the dying woman turned her +head as though she were reminded of something she had quite forgotten. +Then, straightway, she forgot again. + +The voice of the flood had deepened. A smile came to Becky's lips--a +faint, terrible smile of triumph. The girl bent low and, with a +startled face, shrank back. + +"_An' I'll--git--thar--first._" + +With that whisper went Becky's last breath, but the smile was there, +even when her lips were cold. + + + + +A CRISIS FOR THE GUARD + + +The tutor was from New England, and he was precisely what passes, with +Southerners, as typical. He was thin, he wore spectacles, he talked +dreamy abstractions, and he looked clerical. Indeed, his ancestors had +been clergymen for generations, and, by nature and principle, he was an +apostle of peace and a non-combatant. He had just come to the Gap--a +cleft in the Cumberland Mountains--to prepare two young Blue Grass +Kentuckians for Harvard. The railroad was still thirty miles away, and +he had travelled mule-back through mudholes, on which, as the joke ran, +a traveller was supposed to leave his card before he entered and +disappeared--that his successor might not unknowingly press him too +hard. I do know that, in those mudholes, mules were sometimes drowned. +The tutor's gray mule fell over a bank with him, and he would have gone +back had he not feared what was behind more than anything that was +possible ahead. He was mud-bespattered, sore, tired and dispirited when +he reached the Gap, but still plucky and full of business. He wanted to +see his pupils at once and arrange his schedule. They came in after +supper, and I had to laugh when I saw his mild eyes open. The boys were +only fifteen and seventeen, but each had around him a huge revolver and +a belt of cartridges, which he unbuckled and laid on the table after +shaking hands. The tutor's shining glasses were raised to me for light. +I gave it: my brothers had just come in from a little police duty, I +explained. Everybody was a policeman at the Gap, I added; and, +naturally, he still looked puzzled; but he began at once to question the +boys about their studies, and, in an hour, he had his daily schedule +mapped out and submitted to me. I had to cover my mouth with my hand +when I came to one item--"Exercise: a walk of half an hour every +Wednesday afternoon between five and six"--for the younger, known since +at Harvard as the colonel, and known then at the Gap as the Infant of +the Guard, winked most irreverently. As he had just come back from a +ten-mile chase down the valley on horseback after a bad butcher, and as +either was apt to have a like experience any and every day, I was not +afraid they would fail to get exercise enough; so I let that item of the +tutor pass. + +The tutor slept in my room that night, and my four brothers, the eldest +of whom was a lieutenant on the police guard, in a room across the +hallway. I explained to the tutor that there was much lawlessness in +the region; that we "foreigners" were trying to build a town, and that, +to ensure law and order, we had all become volunteer policemen. He +seemed to think it was most interesting. + +About three o'clock in the morning a shrill whistle blew, and, from +habit, I sprang out of bed. I had hardly struck the floor when four +pairs of heavy boots thundered down the stairs just outside the door, +and I heard a gasp from the startled tutor. He was bolt upright in bed, +and his face in the moonlight was white with fear. + +"Wha--wha--what's that?" + +I told him it was a police whistle and that the boys were answering it. +Everybody jumped when he heard a whistle, I explained; for nobody in +town was permitted to blow one except a policeman. I guessed there would +be enough men answering that whistle without me, however, and I slipped +back into bed. + +"Well," he said; and when the boys lumbered upstairs again and one +shouted through the door, "All right!" the tutor said again with +emphasis: "Well!" + +Next day there was to be a political gathering at the Gap. A Senator was +trying to lift himself by his own boot-straps into the Governor's +chair. He was going to make a speech, there would be a big and unruly +crowd, and it would be a crucial day for the Guard. So, next morning, I +suggested to the tutor that it would be unwise for him to begin work +with his pupils that day, for the reason that he was likely to be +greatly interrupted and often. He thought, however, he would like to +begin. He did begin, and within half an hour Gordon, the town sergeant, +thrust his head inside the door and called the colonel by name. + +"Come on," he said; "they're going to try that d--n butcher." And seeing +from the tutor's face that he had done something dreadful, he slammed +the door in apologetic confusion. The tutor was law-abiding, and it was +the law that called the colonel, and so the tutor let him go--nay, went +with him and heard the case. The butcher had gone off on another man's +horse--the man owed him money, he said, and the only way he could get +his money was to take the horse as security. But the sergeant did not +know this, and he and the colonel rode after him, and the colonel, +having the swifter horse, but not having had time to get his own pistol, +took the sergeant's and went ahead. He fired quite close to the running +butcher twice, and the butcher thought it wise to halt. When he saw the +child who had captured him he was speechless, and he got off his horse +and cut a big switch to give the colonel a whipping, but the doughty +Infant drew down on him again and made him ride, foaming with rage, back +to town. The butcher was good-natured at the trial, however, and the +tutor heard him say, with a great guffaw: + +"An' I _do_ believe the d--n little fool would 'a' shot me." + +Once more the tutor looked at the pupil whom he was to lead into the +classic halls of Harvard, and once more he said: + +"Well!" + +People were streaming into town now, and I persuaded the tutor that +there was no use for him to begin his studies again. He said he would go +fishing down the river and take a swim. He would get back in time to +hear the speaking in the afternoon. So I got him a horse, and he came +out with a long cane fishing-pole and a pair of saddle-bags. I told him +that he must watch the old nag or she would run away with him, +particularly when he started homeward. The tutor was not much of a +centaur. The horse started as he was throwing the wrong leg over his +saddle, and the tutor clamped his rod under one arm, clutching for the +reins with both hands and kicking for his stirrups with both feet. The +tip of the limber pole beat the horse's flank gently as she struck a +trot, and smartly as she struck into a lope, and so with arms, feet, +saddle-pockets, and fishing-rod flapping towards different points of the +compass, the tutor passed out of sight over Poplar Hill on a dead run. + +As soon as he could get over a fit of laughter and catch his breath, the +colonel asked: + +"Do you know what he had in those saddle-pockets?" + +"No." + +"A bathing suit," he shouted; and he went off again. + +Not even in a primeval forest, it seemed, would the modest Puritan bare +his body to the mirror of limpid water and the caress of mountain air. + + * * * * * + +The trouble had begun early that morning, when Gordon, the town +sergeant, stepped from his door and started down the street with no +little self-satisfaction. He had been arraying himself for a full hour, +and after a tub-bath and a shave he stepped, spic and span, into the +street with his head steadily held high, except when he bent it to look +at the shine of his boots, which was the work of his own hands, and of +which he was proud. As a matter of fact, the sergeant felt that he +looked just as he particularly wanted to look on that day--his best. +Gordon was a native of Wise, but that day a girl was coming from Lee, +and he was ready for her. + +Opposite the Intermont, a pistol-shot cracked from Cherokee Avenue, and +from habit he started that way. Logan, the captain of the Guard--the +leading lawyer in that part of the State--was ahead of him however, and +he called to Gordon to follow. Gordon ran in the grass along the road to +keep those boots out of the dust. Somebody had fired off his pistol for +fun and was making tracks for the river. As they pushed the miscreant +close, he dashed into the river to wade across. It was a very cold +morning, and Gordon prayed that the captain was not going to be such a +fool as to follow the fellow across the river. He should have known +better, + +"In with you," said the captain quietly, and the mirror of the shining +boots was dimmed, and the icy water chilled the sergeant to the knees +and made him so mad that he flashed his pistol and told the runaway to +halt, which he did in the middle of the stream. It was Richards, the +tough from "the Pocket," and, as he paid his fine promptly, they had to +let him go. Gordon went back, put on his everyday clothes and got his +billy and his whistle and prepared to see the maid from Lee when his +duty should let him. As a matter of fact, he saw her but once, and then +he was not made happy. + +The people had come in rapidly--giants from the Crab Orchard, +mountaineers from through the Gap, and from Cracker's Neck and +Thunderstruck Knob; Valley people from Little Stone-Gap, from the +furnace site and Bum Hollow and Wildcat, and people from Lee, from +Turkey Cove, and from the Pocket--the much-dreaded Pocket--far down in +the river hills. + +They came on foot and on horseback, and left their horses in the bushes +and crowded the streets and filled the saloon of one Jack Woods--who had +the cackling laugh of Satan and did not like the Guard, for good +reasons, and whose particular pleasure was to persuade some customer to +stir up a hornet's nest of trouble. From the saloon the crowd moved up +towards the big spring at the foot of Imboden Hill, where, under +beautiful trunk-mottled beeches, was built the speakers' platform. + +Precisely at three o'clock the local orator much flurried, rose, ran his +hand through his long hair and looked in silence over the crowd. + +"Fellow citizens! There's beauty in the stars, of night and in the +glowin' orb of day. There's beauty in the rollin' meadow and in the +quiet stream. There's beauty in the smilin' valley and in the +everlastin' hills. Therefore, fellow citizens--THEREFORE, fellow +citizens, allow me to introduce to you the future Governor of these +United States--Senator William Bayhone." And he sat down with such a +beatific smile of self-satisfaction that a fiend would not have had the +heart to say he had not won. + +Now, there are wandering minstrels yet in the Cumberland Hills. They +play fiddles and go about making up "ballets" that involve local +history. Sometimes they make a pretty good verse--this, for instance, +about a feud: + + The death of these two men + Caused great trouble in our land. + Caused men to leave their families + And take the parting hand. + Retaliation, still at war, + May never, never cease. + I would that I could only see + Our land once more at peace. + +There was a minstrel out in the crowd, and pretty soon he struck up his +fiddle and his lay, and he did not exactly sing the virtues of Billy +Bayhone. Evidently some partisan thought he ought, for he smote him on +the thigh with the toe of his boot and raised such a stir as a rude +stranger might had he smitten a troubadour in Arthur's Court. The crowd +thickened and surged, and four of the Guard emerged with the fiddler and +his assailant under arrest. It was as though the Valley were a sheet of +water straightway and the fiddler the dropping of a stone, for the +ripple of mischief started in every direction. It caught two +mountaineers on the edge of the crowd, who for no particular reason +thumped each other with their huge fists, and were swiftly led away by +that silent Guard. The operation of a mysterious force was in the air +and it puzzled the crowd. Somewhere a whistle would blow, and, from this +point and that, a quiet, well-dressed young man would start swiftly +toward it. The crowd got restless and uneasy, and, by and by, +experimental and defiant. For in that crowd was the spirit of Bunker +Hill and King's Mountain. It couldn't fiddle and sing; it couldn't +settle its little troubles after the good old fashion of fist and skull; +it couldn't charge up and down the streets on horseback if it pleased; +it couldn't ride over those puncheon sidewalks; it couldn't drink openly +and without shame; and, Shades of the American Eagle and the Stars and +Stripes, it couldn't even yell. No wonder, like the heathen, it raged. +What did these blanked "furriners" have against them anyhow? They +couldn't run _their_ country--not much. + +Pretty soon there came a shrill whistle far down-town--then another and +another. It sounded ominous, indeed, and it was, being a signal of +distress from the Infant of the Guard, who stood before the door of Jack +Woods's saloon with his pistol levelled on Richards, the tough from the +Pocket, the Infant, standing there with blazing eyes, alone and in the +heart of a gathering storm. + +Now the chain of lawlessness that had tightened was curious and +significant. There was the tough and his kind--lawless, irresponsible +and possible in any community. There was the farm-hand who had come to +town with the wild son of his employer--an honest, law-abiding farmer. +Came, too, a friend of the farmer who had not yet reaped the crop of +wild oats sown in his youth. Whiskey ran all into one mould. The +farm-hand drank with the tough, the wild son with the farm-hand, and the +three drank together, and got the farmer's unregenerate friend to drink +with them; and he and the law-abiding farmer himself, by and by, took a +drink for old time's sake. Now the cardinal command of rural and +municipal districts all through the South is, "Forsake not your friend": +and it does not take whiskey long to make friends. Jack Woods had given +the tough from the Pocket a whistle. + +"You dassen't blow it," said he. + +Richards asked why, and Jack told him. Straightway the tough blew the +whistle, and when the little colonel ran down to arrest him he laughed +and resisted, and the wild son and the farm-hand and Jack Woods showed +an inclination to take his part. So, holding his "drop" on the tough +with one hand, the Infant blew vigorously for help with the other. + +Logan, the captain, arrived first--he usually arrived first--and Gordon, +the sergeant, was by his side--Gordon was always by his side. He would +have stormed a battery if the captain had led him, and the captain would +have led him--alone--if he thought it was his duty. Logan was as calm as +a stage hero at the crisis of a play. The crowd had pressed close. + +"Take that man," he said sharply, pointing to the tough whom the colonel +held covered, and two men seized him from behind. + +The farm-hand drew his gun. + +"No, you don't!" he shouted. + +"Take _him_," said the captain quietly; and he was seized by two more and +disarmed. + +It was then that Sturgeon, the wild son, ran up. + +"You can't take that man to jail," he shouted with an oath, pointing at +the farm-hand. + +The captain waved his hand. "And _him_!" + +As two of the Guard approached, Sturgeon started for his gun. Now, +Sturgeon was Gordon's blood cousin, but Gordon levelled his own pistol. +Sturgeon's weapon caught in his pocket, and he tried to pull it loose. +The moment he succeeded Gordon stood ready to fire. Twice the hammer of +the sergeant's pistol went back almost to the turning-point, and then, +as he pulled the trigger again, Macfarlan, first lieutenant, who once +played lacrosse at Yale, rushed, parting the crowd right and left, and +dropped his billy lightly three times--right, left and right--on +Sturgeon's head. The blood spurted, the head fell back between the +bully's shoulders, his grasp on his pistol loosened, and he sank to his +knees. For a moment the crowd was stunned by the lightning quickness of +it all. It was the first blow ever struck in that country with a piece +of wood in the name of the law. + +"Take 'em on, boys," called the captain, whose face had paled a little, +though he seemed as cool as ever. + +And the boys started, dragging the three struggling prisoners, and the +crowd, growing angrier and angrier, pressed close behind, a hundred of +them, led by the farmer himself, a giant in size, and beside himself +with rage and humiliation. Once he broke through the guard line and was +pushed back. Knives and pistols began to flash now everywhere, and loud +threats and curses rose on all sides--the men should not be taken to +jail. The sergeant, dragging Sturgeon, looked up into the blazing eyes +of a girl on the sidewalk, Sturgeon's sister--the maid from Lee. The +sergeant groaned. Logan gave some order just then to the Infant, who +ran ahead, and by the time the Guard with the prisoners had backed to a +corner there were two lines of Guards drawn across the street. The first +line let the prisoners and their captors through, closed up behind, and +backed slowly towards the corner, where it meant to stand. + +It was very exciting there. Winchesters and shotguns protruded from the +line threateningly, but the mob came on as though it were going to press +through, and determined faces blenched with excitement, but not with +fear. A moment later, the little colonel and the Guards on either side +of him were jabbing at men with cocked Winchesters. At that moment it +would have needed but one shot to ring out to have started an awful +carnage; but not yet was there a man in the mob--and that is the trouble +with mobs--who seemed willing to make a sacrifice of himself that the +others might gain their end. For one moment they halted, cursing and +waving; their pistols, preparing for a charge; and in that crucial +moment the tutor from New England came like a thunderbolt to the rescue. +Shrieks of terror from children, shrieks of outraged modesty from women, +rent the air down the street where the huddled crowd was rushing right +and left in wild confusion, and, through the parting crowd, the tutor +flew into sight on horseback, bareheaded, barefooted, clad in a gaudily +striped bathing suit, with his saddle-pockets flapping behind him like +wings. Some mischievous mountaineers, seeing him in his bathing suit on +the point of a rock up the river, had joyously taken a pot-shot or two +at him, and the tutor had mounted his horse and fled. But he came as +welcome and as effective as an emissary straight from the God of +Battles, though he came against his will, for his old nag was frantic +and was running away. Men, women and children parted before him, and +gaping mouths widened as he passed. The impulse of the crowd ran faster +than his horse, and even the enraged mountaineers in amazed wonder +sprang out of his way, and, far in the rear, a few privileged ones saw +the frantic horse plunge towards his stable, stop suddenly, and pitch +his mottled rider through the door and mercifully out of sight. Human +purpose must give way when a pure miracle comes to earth to baffle it. +It gave way now long enough to let the oaken doors of the calaboose +close behind tough, farm-hand, and the farmer's wild son. The line of +Winchesters at the corner quietly gave way. The power of the Guard was +established, the backbone of the opposition broken; henceforth, the work +for law and order was to be easy compared with what it had been. Up at +the big spring under the beeches sat the disgusted orator of the day +and the disgusted Senator, who, seriously, was quite sure that the +Guard, being composed of Democrats, had taken this way to shatter his +campaign. + + * * * * * + +Next morning, in court, the members of the Guard acted as witnesses +against the culprits. Macfarlan stated that he had struck Sturgeon over +the head to save his life, and Sturgeon, after he had paid his fine, +said he would prefer being shot to being clubbed to death, and he bore +dangerous malice for a long time, until he learned what everybody else +knew, that Macfarlan always did what he thought he ought, and never +spoke anything but the literal truth, whether it hurt friend, foe or +himself. + +After court, Richards, the tough, met Gordon, the sergeant, in the road. +"Gordon," he said, "you swore to a ---- lie about me a while ago." + +"How do you want to fight?" asked Gordon. + +"Fair!" + +"Come on"; and Gordon started for the town limits across the river, +Richards following on horseback. At a store, Gordon unbuckled his belt +and tossed his pistol and his police badge inside. Jack Woods, seeing +this, followed, and the Infant, seeing Woods, followed too. The law was +law, but this affair was personal, and would be settled without the +limits of law and local obligation. Richards tried to talk to Gordon, +but the sergeant walked with his head down, as though he could not +hear--he was too enraged to talk. + +While Richards was hitching his horse in the bushes the sergeant stood +on the bank of the river with his arms folded and his chin swinging from +side to side. When he saw Richards in the open he rushed for him like a +young bull that feels the first swelling of his horns. It was not a +fair, stand-up, knock-down English fight, but a Scotch tussle, in which +either could strike, kick, bite or gouge. After a few blows they +clinched and whirled and fell, Gordon on top--with which advantage he +began to pound the tough from the Pocket savagely. Woods made as if to +pull him off, but the Infant drew his pistol. "Keep off!" + +"He's killing him!" shouted Woods, halting. + +"Let him holler 'Enough,' then," said the Infant. + +"He's killing him!" shouted Woods. + +"Let Gordon's friends take him off, then," said the Infant. "Don't _you_ +touch him." + +And it was done. Richards was senseless and speechless--he really +couldn't shout "Enough." But he was content, and the day left a very +satisfactory impression on him and on his friends. + +If they misbehaved in town they would be arrested: that was plain. But +it was also plain that if anybody had a personal grievance against one +of the Guard he could call him out of the town limits and get +satisfaction, after the way of his fathers. There was nothing personal +at all in the attitude of the Guard towards the outsiders; which +recognition was a great stride toward mutual understanding and final +high regard. + +All that day I saw that something was troubling the tutor from New +England. It was the Moral Sense of the Puritan at work, I supposed, and, +that night, when I came in with a new supply of "billies" and gave one +to each of my brothers, the tutor looked up over his glasses and cleared +his throat. + +"Now," said I to myself, "we shall catch it hot on the savagery of the +South and the barbarous Method of keeping it down"; but before he had +said three words the colonel looked as though he were going to get up +and slap the little dignitary on the back--which would have created a +sensation indeed. + +"Have you an extra one of those--those--" + +"Billies?" I said, wonderingly. + +"Yes. I--I believe I shall join the Guard myself," said the tutor from +New England. + + + + +CHRISTMAS NIGHT WITH SATAN + + +No night was this in Hades with solemn-eyed Dante, for Satan was only a +woolly little black dog, and surely no dog was ever more absurdly +misnamed. When Uncle Carey first heard that name, he asked gravely: + +"Why, Dinnie, where in h----," Uncle Carey gulped slightly, "did you get +him?" And Dinnie laughed merrily, for she saw the fun of the question, +and shook her black curls. + +"He didn't come f'um _that place_." + +Distinctly Satan had not come from that place. On the contrary, he might +by a miracle have dropped straight from some Happy Hunting-ground, for +all the signs he gave of having touched pitch in this or another sphere. +Nothing human was ever born that was gentler, merrier, more trusting or +more lovable than Satan. That was why Uncle Carey said again gravelyt +hat he could hardly tell Satan and his little mistress apart. He rarely +saw them apart, and as both had black tangled hair and bright black +eyes; as one awoke every morning with a happy smile and the other with a +jolly bark; as they played all day like wind-shaken shadows and each +won every heart at first sight--the likeness was really rather curious. +I have always believed that Satan made the spirit of Dinnie's house, +orthodox and severe though it was, almost kindly toward his great +namesake. I know I have never been able, since I knew little Satan, to +think old Satan as bad as I once painted him, though I am sure the +little dog had many pretty tricks that the "old boy" doubtless has never +used in order to amuse his friends. + +"Shut the door, Saty, please." Dinnie would say, precisely as she would +say it to Uncle Billy, the butler, and straightway Satan would launch +himself at it--bang! He never would learn to close it softly, for Satan +liked that--bang! + +If you kept tossing a coin or marble in the air, Satan would keep +catching it and putting it back in your hand for another throw, till you +got tired. Then he would drop it on a piece of rag carpet, snatch the +carpet with his teeth, throw the coin across the room and rush for it +like mad, until he got tired. If you put a penny on his nose, he would +wait until you counted, one--two--_three_! Then he would toss it up +himself and catch it. Thus, perhaps, Satan grew to love Mammon right +well, but for another and better reason than that he liked simply to +throw it around--as shall now be made plain. + +A rubber ball with a hole in it was his favorite plaything, and he +would take it in his mouth and rush around the house like a child, +squeezing it to make it whistle. When he got a new ball, he would hide +his old one away until the new one was the worse worn of the two, and +then he would bring out the old one again. If Dinnie gave him a nickel +or a dime, when they went down-town, Satan would rush into a store, rear +up on the counter where the rubber balls were kept, drop the coin, and +get a ball for himself. Thus, Satan learned finance. He began to hoard, +his pennies, and one day Uncle Carey found a pile of seventeen under a +corner of the carpet. Usually he carried to Dinnie all coins that he +found in the street, but he showed one day that he was going into the +ball-business for himself. Uncle Carey had given Dinnie a nickel for +some candy, and, as usual, Satan trotted down the street behind her. As +usual, Satan stopped before the knick-knack shop. + +"Tum on, Saty," said Dinnie. Satan reared against the door as he always +did, and Dinnie said again: + +"Tum on, Saty." As usual, Satan dropped to his haunches, but what was +unusual, he failed to bark. Now Dinnie had got a new ball for Satan only +that morning, so Dinnie stamped her foot. + +[Illustration: Satan would drop the coin and get a ball for himself.] + +"I tell you to turn on, Saty." Satan never moved. He looked at Dinnie +as much as to say: + +"I have never disobeyed you before, little mistress, but this time I +have an excellent reason for what must seem to you very bad manners--" +and being a gentleman withal, Satan rose on his haunches and begged. + +"You're des a pig, Saty," said Dinnie, but with a sigh for the candy +that was not to be, Dinnie opened the door, and Satan, to her wonder, +rushed to the counter, put his forepaws on it, and dropped from his +mouth a dime. Satan had found that coin on the street. He didn't bark +for change, nor beg for two balls, but he had got it in his woolly +little head, somehow, that in that store a coin meant a ball, though +never before nor afterward did he try to get a ball for a penny. + +Satan slept in Uncle Carey's room, for of all people, after Dinnie, +Satan loved Uncle Carey best. Every day at noon he would go to an +upstairs window and watch the cars come around the corner, until a very +tall, square-shouldered young man swung to the ground, and down Satan +would scamper--yelping--to meet him at the gate. If Uncle Carey, after +supper and when Dinnie was in bed, started out of the house, still in +his business clothes, Satan would leap out before him, knowing that he +too might be allowed to go; but if Uncle Carey had put on black clothes +that showed a big, dazzling shirt-front, and picked up his high hat, +Satan would sit perfectly still and look disconsolate; for as there were +no parties or theatres for Dinnie, so there were none for him. But no +matter how late it was when Uncle Carey came home, he always saw Satan's +little black nose against the window-pane and heard his bark of welcome. + +After intelligence, Satan's chief trait was lovableness--nobody ever +knew him to fight, to snap at anything, or to get angry; after +lovableness, it was politeness. If he wanted something to eat, if he +wanted Dinnie to go to bed, if he wanted to get out of the door, he +would beg--beg prettily on his haunches, his little red tongue out and +his funny little paws hanging loosely. Indeed, it was just because Satan +was so little less than human, I suppose, that old Satan began to be +afraid he might have a soul. So the wicked old namesake with the Hoofs +and Horns laid a trap for little Satan, and, as he is apt to do, he +began laying it early--long, indeed, before Christmas. + +When Dinnie started to kindergarten that autumn, Satan found that there +was one place where he could never go. Like the lamb, he could not go to +school; so while Dinnie was away, Satan began to make friends. He would +bark, "Howdy-do?" to every dog that passed his gate. Many stopped to rub +noses with him through the fence--even Hugo the mastiff, and nearly all, +indeed, except one strange-looking dog that appeared every morning at +precisely nine o'clock and took his stand on the corner. There he would +lie patiently until a funeral came along, and then Satan would see him +take his place at the head of the procession; and then he would march +out to the cemetery and back again. Nobody knew where he came from nor +where he went, and Uncle Carey called him the "funeral dog" and said he +was doubtless looking for his dead master. Satan even made friends with +a scrawny little yellow dog that followed an old drunkard around--a dog +that, when his master fell in the gutter, would go and catch a policeman +by the coat-tail, lead the officer to his helpless master, and spend the +night with him in jail. + +By and by Satan began to slip out of the house at night, and Uncle Billy +said he reckoned Satan had "jined de club"; and late one night, when he +had not come in, Uncle Billy told Uncle Carey that it was "powerful +slippery and he reckoned they'd better send de kerridge after him"--an +innocent remark that made Uncle Carey send a boot after the old butler, +who fled chuckling down the stairs, and left Uncle Carey chuckling in +his room. + +Satan had "jined de club"--the big club--and no dog was too lowly in +Satan's eyes for admission; for no priest ever preached the brotherhood +of man better than Satan lived it--both with man and dog. And thus he +lived it that Christmas night--to his sorrow. + +Christmas Eve had been gloomy--the gloomiest of Satan's life. Uncle +Carey had gone to a neighboring town at noon. Satan had followed him +down to the station, and when the train departed, Uncle Carey had +ordered him to go home. Satan took his time about going home, not +knowing it was Christmas Eve. He found strange things happening to dogs +that day. The truth was, that policemen were shooting all dogs found +that were without a collar and a license, and every now and then a bang +and a howl somewhere would stop Satan in his tracks. At a little yellow +house on the edge of town he saw half a dozen strange dogs in a kennel, +and every now and then a negro would lead a new one up to the house and +deliver him to a big man at the door, who, in return, would drop +something into the negro's hand. While Satan waited, the old drunkard +came along with his little dog at his heels, paused before the door, +looked a moment at his faithful follower, and went slowly on. Satan +little knew the old drunkard's temptation, for in that yellow house +kind-hearted people had offered fifteen cents for each dog brought to +them, without a license, that they might mercifully put it to death, and +fifteen cents was the precise price for a drink of good whiskey. Just +then there was another bang and another howl somewhere, and Satan +trotted home to meet a calamity. Dinnie was gone. Her mother had taken +her out in the country to Grandmother Dean's to spend Christmas, as was +the family custom, and Mrs. Dean would not wait any longer for Satan; so +she told Uncle Billy to bring him out after supper. + +"Ain't you 'shamed o' yo'self--suh--?" said the old butler, "keepin' me +from ketchin' Christmas gifts dis day?" + +Uncle Billy was indignant, for the negroes begin at four o'clock in the +afternoon of Christmas Eve to slip around corners and jump from hiding +places to shout "Christmas Gif--Christmas Gif'"; and the one who shouts +first gets a gift. No wonder it was gloomy for Satan--Uncle Carey, +Dinnie, and all gone, and not a soul but Uncle Billy in the big house. +Every few minutes he would trot on his little black legs upstairs and +downstairs, looking for his mistress. As dusk came on, he would every +now and then howl plaintively. After begging his supper, and while +Uncle Billy was hitching up a horse in the stable, Satan went out in the +yard and lay with his nose between the close panels of the fence--quite +heart-broken. When he saw his old friend, Hugo, the mastiff, trotting +into the gaslight, he began to bark his delight frantically. The big +mastiff stopped and nosed his sympathy through the fence for a moment +and walked slowly on, Satan frisking and barking along inside. At the +gate Hugo stopped, and raising one huge paw, playfully struck it. The +gate flew open, and with a happy yelp Satan leaped into the street. The +noble mastiff hesitated as though this were not quite regular. He did +not belong to the club, and he didn't know that Satan had ever been away +from home after dark in his life. For a moment he seemed to wait for +Dinnie to call him back as she always did, but this time there was no +sound, and Hugo walked majestically on, with absurd little Satan running +in a circle about him. On the way they met the "funeral dog," who +glanced inquiringly at Satan, shied from the mastiff, and trotted on. On +the next block the old drunkard's yellow cur ran across the street, and +after interchanging the compliments of the season, ran back after his +staggering master. As they approached the railroad track a strange dog +joined them, to whom Hugo paid no attention. At the crossing another +new acquaintance bounded toward them. This one--a half-breed +shepherd--was quite friendly, and he received Satan's advances with +affable condescension. Then another came and another, and little Satan's +head got quite confused. They were a queer-looking lot of curs and +half-breeds from the negro settlement at the edge of the woods, and +though Satan had little experience, his instincts told him that all was +not as it should be, and had he been human he would have wondered very +much how they had escaped the carnage that day. Uneasy, he looked around +for Hugo; but Hugo had disappeared. Once or twice Hugo had looked around +for Satan, and Satan paying no attention, the mastiff trotted on home in +disgust. Just then a powerful yellow cur sprang out of the darkness over +the railroad track, and Satan sprang to meet him, and so nearly had the +life scared out of him by the snarl and flashing fangs of the new-comer +that he hardly had the strength to shrink back behind his new friend, +the half-breed shepherd. + +A strange thing then happened. The other dogs became suddenly quiet, and +every eye was on the yellow cur. He sniffed the air once or twice, gave +two or three peculiar low growls, and all those dogs except Satan lost +the civilization of centuries and went back suddenly to the time when +they were wolves and were looking for a leader. The cur was Lobo for +that little pack, and after a short parley, he lifted his nose high and +started away without looking back, while the other dogs silently trotted +after him. With a mystified yelp, Satan ran after them. The cur did not +take the turnpike, but jumped the fence into a field, making his way by +the rear of houses, from which now and then another dog would slink out +and silently join the band. Every one of them Satan nosed most +friendlily, and to his great joy the funeral dog, on the edge of the +town, leaped into their midst. Ten minutes later the cur stopped in the +midst of some woods, as though he would inspect his followers. Plainly, +he disapproved of Satan, and Satan kept out of his way. Then he sprang +into the turnpike and the band trotted down it, under flying black +clouds and shifting bands of brilliant moonlight. Once, a buggy swept +past them. A familiar odor struck Satan's nose, and he stopped for a +moment to smell the horse's tracks; and right he was, too, for out at +her grandmother's Dinnie refused to be comforted, and in that buggy was +Uncle Billy going back to town after him. + +Snow was falling. It was a great lark for Satan. Once or twice, as he +trotted along, he had to bark his joy aloud, and each time the big cur +gave him such a fierce growl that he feared thereafter to open his +jaws. But he was happy for all that, to be running out into the night +with such a lot of funny friends and not to know or care where he was +going. He got pretty tired presently, for over hill and down hill they +went, at that unceasing trot, trot, trot! Satan's tongue began to hang +out. Once he stopped to rest, but the loneliness frightened him and he +ran on after them with his heart almost bursting. He was about to lie +right down and die, when the cur stopped, sniffed the air once or twice, +and with those same low growls, led the marauders through a rail fence +into the woods, and lay quietly down. How Satan loved that soft, thick +grass, all snowy that it was! It was almost as good as his own bed at +home. And there they lay--how long, Satan never knew, for he went to +sleep and dreamed that he was after a rat in the barn at home; and he +yelped in his sleep, which made the cur lift his big yellow head and +show his fangs. The moving of the half-breed shepherd and the funeral +dog waked him at last, and Satan got up. Half crouching, the cur was +leading the way toward the dark, still woods on top of the hill, over +which the Star of Bethlehem was lowly sinking, and under which lay a +flock of the gentle creatures that seemed to have been almost sacred to +the Lord of that Star. They were in sore need of a watchful shepherd +now. Satan was stiff and chilled, but he was rested and had had his +sleep, and he was just as ready for fun as he always was. He didn't +understand that sneaking. Why they didn't all jump and race and bark as +he wanted to, he couldn't see; but he was too polite to do otherwise +than as they did, and so he sneaked after them; and one would have +thought he knew, as well as the rest, the hellish mission on which they +were bent. + +Out of the woods they went, across a little branch, and there the big +cur lay flat again in the grass. A faint bleat came from the hill-side +beyond, where Satan could see another woods--and then another bleat, and +another. And the cur began to creep again, like a snake in the grass; +and the others crept too, and little Satan crept, though it was all a +sad mystery to him. Again the cur lay still, but only long enough for +Satan to see curious, fat, white shapes above him--and then, with a +blood-curdling growl, the big brute dashed forward. Oh, there was fun in +them after all! Satan barked joyfully. Those were some new +playmates--those fat, white, hairy things up there; and Satan was amazed +when, with frightened snorts, they fled in every direction. But this was +a new game, perhaps, of which he knew nothing, and as did the rest, so +did Satan. He picked out one of the white things and fled barking after +it. It was a little fellow that he was after, but little as he was, +Satan might never have caught up, had not the sheep got tangled in some +brush. Satan danced about him in mad glee, giving him a playful nip at +his wool and springing back to give him another nip, and then away +again. Plainly, he was not going to bite back, and when the sheep +struggled itself tired and sank down in a heap, Satan came close and +licked him, and as he was very warm and woolly, he lay down and snuggled +up against him for awhile, listening to the turmoil that was going on +around him. And as he listened, he got frightened. + +If this was a new game it was certainly a very peculiar one--the wild +rush, the bleats of terror, gasps of agony, and the fiendish growls of +attack and the sounds of ravenous gluttony. With every hair bristling, +Satan rose and sprang from the woods--and stopped with a fierce tingling +of the nerves that brought him horror and fascination. One of the white +shapes lay still before him. There was a great steaming red splotch on +the snow, and a strange odor in the air that made him dizzy; but only +for a moment. Another white shape rushed by. A tawny streak followed, +and then, in a patch of moonlight, Satan saw the yellow cur with his +teeth fastened in the throat of his moaning playmate. Like lightning +Satan sprang at the cur, who tossed him ten feet away and went back to +his awful work. Again Satan leaped, but just then a shout rose behind +him, and the cur leaped too as though a bolt of lightning had crashed +over him, and, no longer noticing Satan or sheep, began to quiver with +fright and slink away. Another shout rose from another direction--another +from another. + +"Drive 'em into the barn-yard!" was the cry. + +Now and then there was a fearful bang and a howl of death-agony, as some +dog tried to break through the encircling men, who yelled and cursed as +they closed in on the trembling brutes that slunk together and crept on; +for it is said, every sheep-killing dog knows his fate if caught, and +will make little effort to escape. With them went Satan, through the +barn-yard gate, where they huddled in a corner--a shamed and terrified +group. A tall overseer stood at the gate. + +"Ten of 'em!" he said grimly. + +He had been on the lookout for just such a tragedy, for there had +recently been a sheep-killing raid on several farms in that +neighborhood, and for several nights he had had a lantern hung out on +the edge of the woods to scare the dogs away; but a drunken farm-hand +had neglected his duty that Christmas Eve. + +"Yassuh, an' dey's jus' sebenteen dead sheep out dar," said a negro. + +"Look at the little one," said a tall boy who looked like the overseer; +and Satan knew that he spoke of him. + +"Go back to the house, son," said the overseer, "and tell your mother to +give you a Christmas present I got for you yesterday." With a glad whoop +the boy dashed away, and in a moment dashed back with a brand-new .32 +Winchester in his hand. + +The dark hour before dawn was just breaking on Christmas Day. It was the +hour when Satan usually rushed upstairs to see if his little mistress +was asleep. If he were only at home now, and if he only had known how +his little mistress was weeping for him amid her playthings and his--two +new balls and a brass-studded collar with a silver plate on which was +his name, Satan Dean; and if Dinnie could have seen him now, her heart +would have broken; for the tall boy raised his gun. There was a jet of +smoke, a sharp, clean crack, and the funeral dog started on the right +way at last toward his dead master. Another crack, and the yellow cur +leaped from the ground and fell kicking. Another crack and another, and +with each crack a dog tumbled, until little Satan sat on his haunches +amid the writhing pack, alone. His time was now come. As the rifle was +raised, he heard up at the big house the cries of children; the popping +of fire-crackers; tooting of horns and whistles and loud shouts of +"Christmas Gif', Christmas Gif'!" His little heart beat furiously. +Perhaps he knew just what he was doing; perhaps it was the accident of +habit; most likely Satan simply wanted to go home--but when that gun +rose, Satan rose too, on his haunches, his tongue out, his black eyes +steady and his funny little paws hanging loosely--and begged! The boy +lowered the gun. + +"Down, sir!" Satan dropped obediently, but when the gun was lifted +again, Satan rose again, and again he begged. + +"Down, I tell you!" This time Satan would not down, but sat begging for +his life. The boy turned. + +"Papa, I can't shoot that dog." Perhaps Satan had reached the stern old +overseer's heart. Perhaps he remembered suddenly that it was Christmas. +At any rate, he said gruffly: + +"Well, let him go." + +"Come here, sir!" Satan bounded toward the tall boy, frisking and +trustful and begged again. + +"Go home, sir!" + +Satan needed no second command. Without a sound he fled out the +barn-yard, and, as he swept under the front gate, a little girl ran out +of the front door of the big house and dashed down the steps, shrieking: + +"Saty! Saty! Oh, Saty!" But Satan never heard. On he fled, across the +crisp fields, leaped the fence and struck the road, lickety-split! for +home, while Dinnie dropped sobbing in the snow. + +"Hitch up a horse, quick," said Uncle Carey, rushing after Dinnie and +taking her up in his arms. Ten minutes later, Uncle Carey and Dinnie, +both warmly bundled up, were after flying Satan. They never caught him +until they reached the hill on the outskirts of town, where was the +kennel of the kind-hearted people who were giving painless death to +Satan's four-footed kind, and where they saw him stop and turn from the +road. There was divine providence in Satan's flight for one little dog +that Christmas morning; for Uncle Carey saw the old drunkard staggering +down the road without his little companion, and a moment later, both he +and Dinnie saw Satan nosing a little yellow cur between the palings. +Uncle Carey knew the little cur, and while Dinnie was shrieking for +Satan, he was saying under his breath: + +"Well, I swear!--I swear!--I swear!" And while the big man who came to +the door was putting Satan into Dinnie's arms, he said, sharply: + +"Who brought that yellow dog here?" The man pointed to the old +drunkard's figure turning a corner at the foot of the hill. + +"I thought so; I thought so. He sold him to you for--for a drink of +whiskey." + +The man whistled. + +"Bring him out. I'll pay his license." + +So back went Satan and the little cur to Grandmother Dean's--and Dinnie +cried when Uncle Carey told her why he was taking the little cur along. +With her own hands she put Satan's old collar on the little brute, took +him to the kitchen, and fed him first of all. Then she went into the +breakfast-room. + +"Uncle Billy," she said severely, "didn't I tell you not to let Saty +out?" + +"Yes, Miss Dinnie," said the old butler. + +"Didn't I tell you I was goin' to whoop you if you let Saty out?" + +"Yes, Miss Dinnie." + +Miss Dinnie pulled forth from her Christmas treasures a toy riding-whip +and the old darky's eyes began to roll in mock terror. + +"I'm sorry, Uncle Billy, but I des got to whoop you a little." + +"Let Uncle Billy off, Dinnie," said Uncle Carey, "this is Christmas." + +"All wite," said Dinnie, and she turned to Satan. + +In his shining new collar and innocent as a cherub, Satan sat on the +hearth begging for his breakfast. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHRISTMAS EVE ON LONESOME AND OTHER +STORIES*** + + +******* This file should be named 10735.txt or 10735.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/7/3/10735 + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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C. Yohn, et al</h1> +<pre> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: Christmas Eve on Lonesome and Other Stories</p> +<p>Author: John Fox, Jr.</p> +<p>Release Date: January 17, 2004 [eBook #10735]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: iso-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHRISTMAS EVE ON LONESOME AND OTHER STORIES***</p> +<br> +<center><h3>E-text prepared by Juliet Sutherland, Dave Morgan,<br> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team</h3></center> + +<br><hr class="full"><br><br> +<h1>Christmas Eve On Lonesome And Other Stories</h1> + + +<h2>By John Fox, Jr.</h2> + + +<h3>Illustrated By F. C. Yohn, A. I. Keller,</h3> +<h3>W. A. Rogers And H. C. Ransom</h3> + + +<h5>1911</h5> + + + +<br><hr style="width: 65%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHRISTMAS EVE ON LONESOME AND OTHER STORIES</h2> +<br> +<br> +<h3>CONTENTS</h3> + +<h4><a href="#CHRISTMAS_EVE_ON_LONESOME">Christmas Eve On Lonesome</a></h4> + +<h4><a href="#THE_ARMY_OF_THE_CALLAHAN">The Army Of The Callahan</a></h4> + +<h4><a href="#THE_PARDON_OF_BECKY_DAY">The Pardon Of Becky Day</a></h4> + +<h4><a href="#A_CRISIS_FOR_THE_GUARD">A Crisis For The Guard</a></h4> + +<h4><a href="#CHRISTMAS_NIGHT_WITH_SATAN">Christmas Night With Satan</a></h4> + + + +<br><br> +<h3>ILLUSTRATIONS</h3> + +<h4><a href="#Captain">Captain Wells descended with no little majesty and "biffed" him</a></h4> + +<h4><a href="#Speak">"Speak up, nigger!"</a></h4> + +<h4><a href="#Satan">Satan would drop the coin and get a ball for himself</a></h4> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 65%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHRISTMAS EVE ON LONESOME AND OTHER STORIES</h2> + + + +<h3>TO THOMAS NELSON PAGE</h3> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 65%;"><br><br> +<a name="CHRISTMAS_EVE_ON_LONESOME"></a><h2>CHRISTMAS EVE ON LONESOME</h2> +<br> + +<p>It was Christmas Eve on Lonesome. But nobody on Lonesome knew that it +was Christmas Eve, although a child of the outer world could have +guessed it, even out in those wilds where Lonesome slipped from one lone +log cabin high up the steeps, down through a stretch of jungled darkness +to another lone cabin at the mouth of the stream.</p> + +<p>There was the holy hush in the gray twilight that comes only on +Christmas Eve. There were the big flakes of snow that fell as they never +fall except on Christmas Eve. There was a snowy man on horseback in a +big coat, and with saddle-pockets that might have been bursting with +toys for children in the little cabin at the head of the stream.</p> + +<p>But not even he knew that it was Christmas Eve. He was thinking of +Christmas Eve, but it was of the Christmas Eve of the year before, when +he sat in prison with a hundred other men in stripes, and listened to +the chaplain talk of peace and good will to all men upon earth, when he +had forgotten all men upon earth but one, and had only hatred in his +heart for him.</p> + +<p>"Vengeance is mine! saith the Lord."</p> + +<p>That was what the chaplain had thundered at him. And then, as now, he +thought of the enemy who had betrayed him to the law, and had sworn away +his liberty, and had robbed him of everything in life except a fierce +longing for the day when he could strike back and strike to kill. And +then, while he looked back hard into the chaplain's eyes, and now, while +he splashed through the yellow mud thinking of that Christmas Eve, Buck +shook his head; and then, as now, his sullen heart answered:</p> + +<p>"Mine!"</p> + +<p>The big flakes drifted to crotch and twig and limb. They gathered on the +brim of Buck's slouch hat, filled out the wrinkles in his big coat, +whitened his hair and his long mustache, and sifted into the yellow, +twisting path that guided his horse's feet.</p> + +<p>High above he could see through the whirling snow now and then the gleam +of a red star. He knew it was the light from his enemy's window; but +somehow the chaplain's voice kept ringing in his ears, and every time he +saw the light he couldn't help thinking of the story of the Star that +the chaplain told that Christmas Eve, and he dropped his eyes by and by, +so as not to see it again, and rode on until the light shone in his +face.</p> + +<p>Then he led his horse up a little ravine and hitched it among the snowy +holly and rhododendrons, and slipped toward the light. There was a dog +somewhere, of course; and like a thief he climbed over the low +rail-fence and stole through the tall snow-wet grass until he leaned +against an apple-tree with the sill of the window two feet above the +level of his eyes.</p> + +<p>Reaching above him, he caught a stout limb and dragged himself up to a +crotch of the tree. A mass of snow slipped softly to the earth. The +branch creaked above the light wind; around the corner of the house a +dog growled and he sat still.</p> + +<p>He had waited three long years and he had ridden two hard nights and +lain out two cold days in the woods for this.</p> + +<p>And presently he reached out very carefully, and noiselessly broke leaf +and branch and twig until a passage was cleared for his eye and for the +point of the pistol that was gripped in his right hand.</p> + +<p>A woman was just disappearing through the kitchen door, and he peered +cautiously and saw nothing but darting shadows. From one corner a shadow +loomed suddenly out in human shape. Buck saw the shadowed gesture of an +arm, and he cocked his pistol. That shadow was his man, and in a moment +he would be in a chair in the chimney corner to smoke his pipe, +maybe—his last pipe.</p> + +<p>Buck smiled—pure hatred made him smile—but it was mean, a mean and +sorry thing to shoot this man in the back, dog though he was; and now +that the moment had come a wave of sickening shame ran through Buck. No +one of his name had ever done that before; but this man and his people +had, and with their own lips they had framed palliation for him. What +was fair for one was fair for the other they always said. A poor man +couldn't fight money in the courts; and so they had shot from the brush, +and that was why they were rich now and Buck was poor—why his enemy was +safe at home, and he was out here, homeless, in the apple-tree.</p> + +<p>Buck thought of all this, but it was no use. The shadow slouched +suddenly and disappeared; and Buck was glad. With a gritting oath +between his chattering teeth he pulled his pistol in and thrust one leg +down to swing from the tree—he would meet him face to face next day and +kill him like a man—and there he hung as rigid as though the cold had +suddenly turned him, blood, bones, and marrow, into ice.</p> + +<p>The door had opened, and full in the firelight stood the girl who he had +heard was dead. He knew now how and why that word was sent him. And now +she who had been his sweetheart stood before him—the wife of the man he +meant to kill.</p> + +<p>Her lips moved—he thought he could tell what she said: "Git up, Jim, +git up!" Then she went back.</p> + +<p>A flame flared up within him now that must have come straight from the +devil's forge. Again the shadows played over the ceiling. His teeth +grated as he cocked his pistol, and pointed it down the beam of light +that shot into the heart of the apple-tree, and waited.</p> + +<p>The shadow of a head shot along the rafters and over the fireplace. It +was a madman clutching the butt of the pistol now, and as his eye caught +the glinting sight and his heart thumped, there stepped into the square +light of the window—a child!</p> + +<p>It was a boy with yellow tumbled hair, and he had a puppy in his arms. +In front of the fire the little fellow dropped the dog, and they began +to play.</p> + +<p>"Yap! yap! yap!"</p> + +<p>Buck could hear the shrill barking of the fat little dog, and the joyous +shrieks of the child as he made his playfellow chase his tail round and +round or tumbled him head over heels on the floor. It was the first +child Buck had seen for three years; it was <i>his</i> child and <i>hers</i>; +and, in the apple-tree, Buck watched fixedly.</p> + +<p>They were down on the floor now, rolling over and over together; and he +watched them until the child grew tired and turned his face to the fire +and lay still—looking into it. Buck could see his eyes close presently, +and then the puppy crept closer, put his head on his playmate's chest, +and the two lay thus asleep.</p> + +<p>And still Buck looked—his clasp loosening on his pistol and his lips +loosening under his stiff mustache—and kept looking until the door +opened again and the woman crossed the floor. A flood of light flashed +suddenly on the snow, barely touching the snow-hung tips of the +apple-tree, and he saw her in the doorway—saw her look anxiously into +the darkness—look and listen a long while.</p> + +<p>Buck dropped noiselessly to the snow when she closed the door. He +wondered what they would think when they saw his tracks in the snow next +morning; and then he realized that they would be covered before morning.</p> + +<p>As he started up the ravine where his horse was he heard the clink of +metal down the road and the splash of a horse's hoofs in the soft mud, +and he sank down behind a holly-bush.</p> + +<p>Again the light from the cabin flashed out on the snow.</p> + +<p>"That you, Jim?"</p> + +<p>"Yep!"</p> + +<p>And then the child's voice: "Has oo dot thum tandy?"</p> + +<p>"Yep!"</p> + +<p>The cheery answer rang out almost at Buck's ear, and Jim passed death +waiting for him behind the bush which his left foot brushed, shaking the +snow from the red berries down on the crouching figure beneath.</p> + +<p>Once only, far down the dark jungled way, with the underlying streak of +yellow that was leading him whither, God only knew—once only Buck +looked back. There was the red light gleaming faintly through the +moonlit flakes of snow. Once more he thought of the Star, and once more +the chaplain's voice came back to him.</p> + +<p>"Mine!" saith the Lord.</p> + +<p>Just how, Buck could not see with himself in the snow and <i>him</i> back +there for life with her and the child, but some strange impulse made him +bare his head.</p> + +<p>"Yourn," said Buck grimly.</p> + +<p>But nobody on Lonesome—not even Buck—knew that it was Christmas Eve.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 65%;"><br><br> +<a name="THE_ARMY_OF_THE_CALLAHAN"></a><h2>THE ARMY OF THE CALLAHAN</h2> +<br> + +<p>I</p> + +<p>The dreaded message had come. The lank messenger, who had brought it +from over Black Mountain, dropped into a chair by the stove and sank his +teeth into a great hunk of yellow cheese. "Flitter Bill" Richmond +waddled from behind his counter, and out on the little platform in front +of his cross-roads store. Out there was a group of earth-stained +countrymen, lounging against the rickety fence or swinging on it, their +heels clear of the ground, all whittling, chewing, and talking the +matter over. All looked up at Bill, and he looked down at them, running +his eye keenly from one to another until he came to one powerful young +fellow loosely bent over a wagon-tongue. Even on him, Bill's eyes stayed +but a moment, and then were lifted higher in anxious thought.</p> + +<p>The message had come at last, and the man who brought it had heard it +fall from Black Tom's own lips. The "wild Jay-Hawkers of Kaintuck" were +coming over into Virginia to get Flitter Bill's store, for they were +mountain Unionists and Bill was a valley rebel and lawful prey. It was +past belief. So long had he prospered, and so well, that Bill had come +to feel that he sat safe in the hollow of God's hand. But he now must +have protection—and at once—from the hand of man.</p> + +<p>Roaring Fork sang lustily through the rhododendrons. To the north yawned +"the Gap" through the Cumberland Mountains. "Callahan's Nose," a huge +gray rock, showed plain in the clear air, high above the young foliage, +and under it, and on up the rocky chasm, flashed Flitter Bill's keen +mind, reaching out for help.</p> + +<p>Now, from Virginia to Alabama the Southern mountaineer was a Yankee, +because the national spirit of 1776, getting fresh impetus in 1812 and +new life from the Mexican War, had never died out in the hills. Most +likely it would never have died out, anyway; for, the world over, any +seed of character, individual or national, that is once dropped between +lofty summits brings forth its kind, with deathless tenacity, year after +year. Only, in the Kentucky mountains, there were more slaveholders than +elsewhere in the mountains in the South. These, naturally, fought for +their slaves, and the division thus made the war personal and terrible +between the slaveholders who dared to stay at home, and the Union, +"Home Guards" who organized to drive them away. In Bill's little +Virginia valley, of course, most of the sturdy farmers had shouldered +Confederate muskets and gone to the war. Those who had stayed at home +were, like Bill, Confederate in sympathy, but they lived in safety down +the valley, while Bill traded and fattened just opposite the Gap, +through which a wild road ran over into the wild Kentucky hills. Therein +Bill's danger lay; for, just at this time, the Harlan Home Guard under +Black Tom, having cleared those hills, were making ready, like the Pict +and Scot of olden days, to descend on the Virginia valley and smite the +lowland rebels at the mouth of the Gap. Of the "stay-at-homes," and the +deserters roundabout, there were many, very many, who would "stand in" +with any man who would keep their bellies full, but they were well-nigh +worthless even with a leader, and, without a leader, of no good at all. +Flitter Bill must find a leader for them, and anywhere than in his own +fat self, for a leader of men Bill was not born to be, nor could he see +a leader among the men before him. And so, standing there one early +morning in the spring of 1865, with uplifted gaze, it was no surprise to +him—the coincidence, indeed, became at once one of the articles of +perfect faith in his own star—that he should see afar off, a black +slouch hat and a jogging gray horse rise above a little knoll that was +in line with the mouth of the Gap. At once he crossed his hands over his +chubby stomach with a pious sigh, and at once a plan of action began to +whirl in his little round head. Before man and beast were in full view +the work was done, the hands were unclasped, and Flitter Bill, with a +chuckle, had slowly risen, and was waddling back to his desk in the +store.</p> + +<p>It was a pompous old buck who was bearing down on the old gray horse, +and under the slouch hat with its flapping brim—one Mayhall Wells, by +name. There were but few strands of gray in his thick blue-black hair, +though his years were rounding half a century, and he sat the old nag +with erect dignity and perfect ease. His bearded mouth showed vanity +immeasurable, and suggested a strength of will that his eyes—the real +seat of power—denied, for, while shrewd and keen, they were unsteady. +In reality, he was a great coward, though strong as an ox, and whipping +with ease every man who could force him into a fight. So that, in the +whole man, a sensitive observer would have felt a peculiar pathos, as +though nature had given him a desire to be, and no power to become, and +had then sent him on his zigzag way, never to dream wherein his trouble +lay.</p> + +<p>"Mornin', gentle<i>men</i>!"</p> + +<p>"Mornin', Mayhall!"</p> + +<p>All nodded and spoke except Hence Sturgill on the wagon-tongue, who +stopped whittling, and merely looked at the big man with narrowing eyes.</p> + +<p>Tallow Dick, a yellow slave, appeared at the corner of the store, and +the old buck beckoned him to come and hitch his horse. Flitter Bill had +reappeared on the stoop with a piece of white paper in his hand. The +lank messenger sagged in the doorway behind him, ready to start for +home.</p> + +<p>"Mornin' <i>Captain</i> Wells," said Bill, with great respect. Every man +heard the title, stopped his tongue and his knife-blade, and raised his +eyes; a few smiled—Hence Sturgill grinned. Mayhall stared, and Bill's +left eye closed and opened with lightning quickness in a most portentous +wink. Mayhall straightened his shoulders—seeing the game, as did the +crowd at once: Flitter Bill was impressing that messenger in case he had +some dangerous card up his sleeve.</p> + +<p>"<i>Captain</i> Wells," Bill repeated significantly, "I'm sorry to say yo' +new uniform has not arrived yet. I am expecting it to-morrow." Mayhall +toed the line with soldierly promptness.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm sorry to hear that, suh—sorry to hear it, suh," he said, +with slow, measured speech. "My men are comin' in fast, and you can +hardly realize er—er what it means to an old soldier er—er not to +have—er—" And Mayhall's answering wink was portentous.</p> + +<p>"My friend here is from over in Kaintucky, and the Harlan Home Gyard +over there, he says, is a-making some threats."</p> + +<p>Mayhall laughed.</p> + +<p>"So I have heerd—so I have heerd." He turned to the messenger. "We +shall be ready fer 'em, suh, ready fer 'em with a thousand men—one +thousand men, suh, right hyeh in the Gap—right hyeh in the Gap. Let 'em +come on—let 'em come on!" Mayhall began to rub his hands together as +though the conflict were close at hand, and the mountaineer slapped one +thigh heartily. "Good for you! Give 'em hell!" He was about to slap +Mayhall on the shoulder and call him "pardner," when Flitter Bill +coughed, and Mayhall lifted his chin.</p> + +<p>"Captain Wells?" said Bill.</p> + +<p>"Captain Wells," repeated Mayhall with a stiff salutation, and the +messenger from over Black Mountain fell back with an apologetic laugh. A +few minutes later both Mayhall and Flitter Bill saw him shaking his +head, as he started homeward toward the Gap. Bill laughed silently, but +Mayhall had grown grave. The fun was over and he beckoned Bill inside +the store.</p> + +<p>"Misto Richmond," he said, with hesitancy and an entire change of tone +and manner, "I am afeerd I ain't goin' to be able to pay you that little +amount I owe you, but if you can give me a little mo' time—"</p> + +<p>"Captain Wells," interrupted Bill slowly, and again Mayhall stared hard +at him, "as betwixt friends, as have been pussonal friends fer nigh onto +twenty year, I hope you won't mention that little matter to me +ag'in—until I mentions it to you."</p> + +<p>"But, Misto Richmond, Hence Sturgill out thar says as how he heerd you +say that if I didn't pay—"</p> + +<p>"<i>Captain</i> Wells," interrupted Bill again and again Mayhall stared +hard—it was strange that Bill could have formed the habit of calling +him "Captain" in so short a time—"yestiddy is not to-day, is it? And +to-day is not to-morrow? I axe you—have I said one word about that +little matter <i>to-day?</i> Well, borrow not from yestiddy nor to-morrow, to +make trouble fer to-day. There is other things fer to-day, Captain +Wells."</p> + +<p>Mayhall turned here.</p> + +<p>"Misto Richmond," he said, with great earnestness, "you may not know it, +but three times since thet long-legged jay-hawker's been gone you hev +plainly—and if my ears do not deceive me, an' they never hev—you have +plainly called me '<i>Captain</i> Wells.' I knowed yo' little trick whilst he +was hyeh, fer I knowed whut the feller had come to tell ye; but since +he's been gone, three times, Misto Richmond—"</p> + +<p>"Yes," drawled Bill, with an unction that was strangely sweet to +Mayhall's wondering ears, "an' I do it ag'in, <i>Captain</i> Wells."</p> + +<p>"An' may I axe you," said Mayhall, ruffling a little, "may I axe +you—why you—"</p> + +<p>"Certainly," said Bill, and he handed over the paper that he held in his +hand.</p> + +<p>Mayhall took the paper and looked it up and down helplessly—Flitter +Bill slyly watching him.</p> + +<p>Mayhall handed it back. "If you please, Misto Richmond—I left my specs +at home." Without a smile, Bill began. It was an order from the +commandant at Cumberland Gap, sixty miles farther down Powell's Valley, +authorizing Mayhall Wells to form a company to guard the Gap and to +protect the property of Confederate citizens in the valley; and a +commission of captaincy in the said company for the said Mayhall Wells. +Mayhall's mouth widened to the full stretch of his lean jaws, and, when +Bill was through reading, he silently reached for the paper and looked +it up and down and over and over, muttering:</p> + +<p>"Well—well—well!" And then he pointed silently to the name that was at +the bottom of the paper.</p> + +<p>Bill spelled out the name:</p> + +<p>"<i>Jefferson Davis</i>" and Mayhall's big fingers trembled as he pulled them +away, as though to avoid further desecration of that sacred name.</p> + +<p>Then he rose, and a magical transformation began that can be likened—I +speak with reverence—to the turning of water into wine. Captain Mayhall +Wells raised his head, set his chin well in, and kept it there. He +straightened his shoulders, and kept them straight. He paced the floor +with a tread that was martial, and once he stopped before the door with +his right hand thrust under his breast-pocket, and with wrinkling brow +studied the hills. It was a new man—with the water in his blood changed +to wine—who turned suddenly on Flitter Bill Richmond:</p> + +<p>"I can collect a vehy large force in a vehy few days." Flitter Bill knew +that—that he could get together every loafer between the county-seat of +Wise and the county-seat of Lee—but he only said encouragingly:</p> + +<p>"Good!"</p> + +<p>"An' we air to pertect the property—<i>I</i> am to pertect the property of +the Confederate citizens of the valley—that means <i>you</i>, Misto +Richmond, and <i>this store</i>."</p> + +<p>Bill nodded.</p> + +<p>Mayhall coughed slightly. "There is one thing in the way, I opine. +Whar—I axe you—air we to git somethin' to eat fer my command?" Bill +had anticipated this.</p> + +<p>"I'll take keer o' that."</p> + +<p>Captain Wells rubbed his hands.</p> + +<p>"Of co'se, of co'se—you are a soldier and a patriot—you can afford to +feed 'em as a slight return fer the pertection I shall give you and +yourn."</p> + +<p>"Certainly," agreed Bill dryly, and with a prophetic stir of uneasiness.</p> + +<p>"Vehy—vehy well. I shall begin <i>now</i>, Misto Richmond." And, to Flitter +Bill's wonder, the captain stalked out to the stoop, announced his +purpose with the voice of an auctioneer, and called for volunteers then +and there. There was dead silence for a moment. Then there was a smile +here, a chuckle there, an incredulous laugh, and Hence Sturgill, "bully +of the Pocket," rose from the wagon-tongue, closed his knife, came +slowly forward, and cackled his scorn straight up into the teeth of +Captain Mayhall Wells. The captain looked down and began to shed his +coat.</p> + +<p>"I take it, Hence Sturgill, that you air laughin' at me?"</p> + +<p>"I am a-laughin' at <i>you</i>, Mayhall Wells," he said, contemptuously, but +he was surprised at the look on the good-natured giant's face.</p> + +<p>"<i>Captain</i> Mayhall Wells, ef you please."</p> + +<a name="Captain" href="Illus0103.jpg"><img src="Illus0103-t.jpg" align="left" alt="Captain Wells descended with no little majesty and +"biffed" him"></a> + +<p>"Plain ole Mayhall Wells," said Hence, and Captain Wells descended with +no little majesty and "biffed" him.</p> + +<p>The delighted crowd rose to its feet and gathered around. Tallow Dick +came running from the barn. It was biff—biff, and biff again, but not +nip and tuck for long. Captain Mayhall closed in. Hence Sturgill struck +the earth like a Homeric pine, and the captain's mighty arm played above +him and fell, resounding. In three minutes Hence, to the amazement of +the crowd, roared:</p> + +<p>"'Nough!"</p> + +<p>But Mayhall breathed hard and said quietly:</p> + +<p>"<i>Captain</i> Wells!":</p> + +<p>Hence shouted, "Plain ole—" But the captain's huge fist was poised in +the air over his face.</p> + +<p>"Captain Wells," he growled, and the captain rose and calmly put on his +coat, while the crowd looked respectful, and Hence Sturgill staggered to +one side, as though beaten in spirit, strength, and wits as well. The +captain beckoned Flitter Bill inside the store. His manner had a +distinct savor of patronage.</p> + +<p>"Misto Richmond," he said, "I make you—I appoint you, by the authority +of Jefferson Davis and the Confederate States of Ameriky, as +commissary-gineral of the Army of the Callahan."</p> + +<p>"As <i>what</i>?" Bill's eyes blinked at the astounding dignity of his +commission.</p> + +<p>"Gineral Richmond, I shall not repeat them words." And he didn't, but +rose and made his way toward his old gray mare. Tallow Dick held his +bridle.</p> + +<p>"Dick," he said jocosely, "goin' to run away ag'in?" The negro almost +paled, and then, with a look at a blacksnake whip that hung on the barn +door, grinned.</p> + +<p>"No, suh—no, suh—'deed I ain't, suh—no mo'."</p> + +<p>Mounted, the captain dropped a three-cent silver piece in the startled +negro's hand. Then he vouchsafed the wondering Flitter Bill and the +gaping crowd a military salute and started for the yawning mouth of the +Gap—riding with shoulders squared and chin well in—riding as should +ride the commander of the Army of the Callahan.</p> + +<p>Flitter Bill dropped his blinking eyes to the paper in his hand that +bore the commission of Jefferson Davis and the Confederate States of +America to Mayhall Wells of Callahan, and went back into his store. He +looked at it a long time and then he laughed, but without much mirth.</p> + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 65%;"><br><br> +<a name="II"></a><h2>II</h2> + +<p>Grass had little chance to grow for three weeks thereafter under the +cowhide boots of Captain Mayhall Wells. When the twentieth morning came +over the hills, the mist parted over the Stars and Bars floating from +the top of a tall poplar up through the Gap and flaunting brave defiance +to Black Tom, his Harlan Home Guard, and all other jay-hawking Unionists +of the Kentucky hills. It parted over the Army of the Callahan asleep on +its arms in the mouth of the chasm, over Flitter Bill sitting, sullen +and dejected, on the stoop of his store; and over Tallow Dick stealing +corn bread from the kitchen to make ready for flight that night through +the Gap, the mountains, and to the yellow river that was the Mecca of +the runaway slave.</p> + +<p>At the mouth of the Gap a ragged private stood before a ragged tent, +raised a long dinner horn to his lips, and a mighty blast rang through +the hills, reveille! And out poured the Army of the Callahan from shack, +rock-cave, and coverts of sticks and leaves, with squirrel rifles, +Revolutionary muskets, shotguns, clasp-knives, and horse pistols for +the duties of the day under Lieutenant Skaggs, tactician, and Lieutenant +Boggs, quondam terror of Roaring Fork.</p> + +<p>That blast rang down the valley into Flitter Bill's ears and startled +him into action. It brought Tallow Dick's head out of the barn door and +made him grin.</p> + +<p>"Dick!" Flitter Bill's call was sharp and angry.</p> + +<p>"Yes, suh!"</p> + +<p>"Go tell ole Mayhall Wells that I ain't goin' to send him nary another +pound o' bacon an' nary another tin cup o' meal—no, by ----, I ain't."</p> + +<p>Half an hour later the negro stood before the ragged tent of the +commander of the Army of the Callahan.</p> + +<p>"Marse Bill say he ain't gwine to sen' you no mo' rations—no mo'."</p> + +<p>"<i>What</i>!"</p> + +<p>Tallow Dick repeated his message and the captain scowled—mutiny!</p> + +<p>"Fetch my hoss!" he thundered.</p> + +<p>Very naturally and very swiftly had the trouble come, for straight after +the captain's fight with Hence Sturgill there had been a mighty rally to +the standard of Mayhall Wells. From Pigeon's Creek the loafers +came—from Roaring Fork, Cracker's Neck, from the Pocket down the +valley, and from Turkey Cove. Recruits came so fast, and to such +proportions grew the Army of the Callahan, that Flitter Bill shrewdly +suggested at once that Captain Wells divide it into three companies and +put one up Pigeon's Creek under Lieutenant Jim Skaggs and one on +Callahan under Lieutenant Tom Boggs, while the captain, with a third, +should guard the mouth of the Gap. Bill's idea was to share with those +districts the honor of his commissary-generalship; but Captain Wells +crushed the plan like a dried puffball.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said, with fine sarcasm. "What will them Kanetuckians do then? +Don't you know, Gineral Richmond? Why, I'll tell you what they'll do. +They'll jest swoop down on Lieutenant Boggs and gobble him up. Then +they'll swoop down on Lieutenant Skaggs on Pigeon and gobble him up. +Then they'll swoop down on me and gobble me up. No, they won't gobble +<i>me</i> up, but they'll come damn nigh it. An' what kind of a report will I +make to Jeff Davis, Gineral Richmond? <i>Captured In detail</i>, suh? No, +suh. I'll jest keep Lieutenant Boggs and Lieutenant Skaggs close by me, +and we'll pitch our camp right here in the Gap whar we can pertect the +property of Confederate citizens and be close to our base o' supplies, +suh. That's what I'll do!"</p> + +<p>"Gineral Richmond" groaned, and when in the next breath the mighty +captain casually inquired if <i>that uniform of his</i> had come yet, Flitter +Bill's fat body nearly rolled off his chair.</p> + +<p>"You will please have it here next Monday," said the captain, with great +firmness. "It is necessary to the proper discipline of my troops." And +it was there the following Monday—a regimental coat, gray jeans +trousers, and a forage cap that Bill purchased from a passing Morgan +raider. Daily orders would come from Captain Wells to General Flitter +Bill Richmond to send up more rations, and Bill groaned afresh when a +man from Callahan told how the captain's family was sprucing up on meal +and flour and bacon from the captain's camp. Humiliation followed. It +had never occurred to Captain Wells that being a captain made it +incongruous for him to have a "general" under him, until Lieutenant +Skaggs, who had picked up a manual of tactics somewhere, cautiously +communicated his discovery. Captain Wells saw the point at once. There +was but one thing to do—to reduce General Richmond to the ranks—and it +was done. Technically, thereafter, the general was purveyor for the Army +of the Callahan, but to the captain himself he was—gallingly to the +purveyor—simple Flitter Bill.</p> + +<p>The strange thing was that, contrary to his usual shrewdness, it should +have taken Flitter Bill so long to see that the difference between +having his store robbed by the Kentucky jay-hawkers and looted by +Captain Wells was the difference between tweedle-dum and tweedle-dee, +but, when he did see, he forged a plan of relief at once. When the +captain sent down Lieutenant Boggs for a supply of rations, Bill sent +the saltiest, rankest bacon he could find, with a message that he wanted +to see the great man. As before, when Captain Wells rode down to the +store, Bill handed out a piece of paper, and, as before, the captain had +left his "specs" at home. The paper was an order that, whereas the +distinguished services of Captain Wells to the Confederacy were +appreciated by Jefferson Davis, the said Captain Wells was, and is, +hereby empowered to duly, and in accordance with the tactics of war, +impress what live-stock he shall see fit and determine fit for the good +of his command. The news was joy to the Army of the Callahan. Before it +had gone the rounds of the camp Lieutenant Boggs had spied a fat heifer +browsing on the edge of the woods and ordered her surrounded and driven +down. Without another word, when she was close enough, he raised his +gun and would have shot her dead in her tracks had he not been arrested +by a yell of command and horror from his superior.</p> + +<p>"Air you a-goin' to have me cashiered and shot, Lieutenant Boggs, fer +violatin' the ticktacks of war?" roared the captain, indignantly. "Don't +you know that I've got to <i>impress</i> that heifer accordin' to the rules +an' regulations? Git roun' that heifer." The men surrounded her. "Take +her by the horns. Now! In the name of Jefferson Davis and the +Confederate States of Ameriky, I hereby and hereon do duly impress this +heifer for the purposes and use of the Army of the Callahan, so help me +God! Shoot her down, Bill Boggs, shoot her down!"</p> + +<p>Now, naturally, the soldiers preferred fresh meat, and they got +it—impressing cattle, sheep, and hogs, geese, chickens, and ducks, +vegetables—nothing escaped the capacious maw of the Army of the +Callahan. It was a beautiful idea, and the success of it pleased Flitter +Bill mightily, but the relief did not last long. An indignant murmur +rose up and down valley and creek bottom against the outrages, and one +angry old farmer took a pot-shot at Captain Wells with a squirrel rifle, +clipping the visor of his forage cap; and from that day the captain +began to call with immutable regularity again on Flitter Bill for bacon +and meal. That morning the last straw fell in a demand for a wagon-load +of rations to be delivered before noon, and, worn to the edge of his +patience, Bill had sent a reckless refusal. And now he was waiting on +the stoop of his store, looking at the mouth of the Gap and waiting for +it to give out into the valley Captain Wells and his old gray mare. And +at last, late in the afternoon, there was the captain coming—coming at +a swift gallop—and Bill steeled himself for the onslaught like a knight +in a joust against a charging antagonist. The captain saluted +stiffly—pulling up sharply and making no move to dismount.</p> + +<p>"Purveyor," he said, "Black Tom has just sent word that he's a-comin' +over hyeh this week—have you heerd that, purveyor?" Bill was silent.</p> + +<p>"Black Tom says you <i>air</i> responsible for the Army of the Callahan. Have +you heerd that, purveyor?" Still was there silence.</p> + +<p>"He says he's a-goin' to hang me to that poplar whar floats them Stars +and Bars"—Captain Mayhall Wells chuckled—"an' he says he's a-goin' to +hang <i>you</i> thar fust, though; have you heerd <i>that</i>, purveyor?"</p> + +<p>The captain dropped the titular address now, and threw one leg over the +pommel of his saddle.</p> + +<p>"Flitter Bill Richmond," he said, with great nonchalance, "I axe you—do +you prefer that I should disband the Army of the Callahan, or do you +not?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>The captain was silent a full minute, and his face grew stern. "Flitter +Bill Richmond, I had no idee o' disbandin' the Army of the Callahan, but +do you know what I did aim to do?" Again Bill was silent.</p> + +<p>"Well, suh, I'll tell you whut I aim to do. If you don't send them +rations I'll have you cashiered for mutiny, an' if Black Tom don't hang +you to that air poplar, I'll hang you thar myself, suh; yes, by ----! I +will. Dick!" he called sharply to the slave. "Hitch up that air wagon, +fill hit full o' bacon and meal, and drive it up thar to my tent. An' be +mighty damn quick about it, or I'll hang you, too."</p> + +<p>The negro gave a swift glance to his master, and Flitter Bill feebly +waved acquiescence.</p> + +<p>"Purveyor, I wish you good-day."</p> + +<p>Bill gazed after the great captain in dazed wonder (was this the man who +had come cringing to him only a few short weeks ago?) and groaned aloud.</p> + +<p>But for lucky or unlucky coincidence, how could the prophet ever have +gained name and fame on earth?</p> + +<p>Captain Wells rode back to camp chuckling—chuckling with satisfaction +and pride; but the chuckle passed when he caught sight of his tent. In +front of it were his lieutenants and some half a dozen privates, all +plainly in great agitation, and in the midst of them stood the lank +messenger who had brought the first message from Black Tom, delivering +another from the same source. Black Tom <i>was</i> coming, coming surer and +unless that flag, that "Rebel rag," were hauled down under twenty-four +hours, Black Tom would come over and pull it down, and to that same +poplar hang "Captain Mayhall an' his whole damn army." Black Tom might +do it anyhow—just for fun.</p> + +<p>While the privates listened the captain strutted and swore; then he +rested his hand on his hip and smiled with silent sarcasm, and then +swore again—while the respectful lieutenants and the awed soldiery of +the Callahan looked on. Finally he spoke.</p> + +<p>"Ah—when did Black Tom say that?" he inquired casually.</p> + +<p>"Yestiddy mornin'. He said he was goin' to start over hyeh early this +mornin'." The captain whirled.</p> + +<p>"What? Then why didn't you git over hyeh <i>this</i> mornin'?"</p> + +<p>"Couldn't git across the river last night."</p> + +<p>"Then he's a-comin' to-day?"</p> + +<p>"I reckon Black Tom'll be hyeh in about two hours—mebbe he ain't fer +away now." The captain was startled.</p> + +<p>"Lieutenant Skaggs," he called, sharply, "git yo' men out thar an' draw +'em up in two rows!"</p> + +<p>The face of the student of military tactics looked horrified. The +captain in his excitement had relaxed into language that was distinctly +agricultural, and, catching the look on his subordinate's face, and at +the same time the reason for it, he roared, indignantly:</p> + +<p>"Air you afeer'd, sir? Git yo' men out, I said, an' march 'em up thar in +front of the Gap. Lieutenant Boggs, take ten men and march at double +quick through the Gap, an' defend that poplar with yo' life's blood. If +you air overwhelmed by superior numbers, fall back, suh, step by step, +until you air re-enforced by Lieutenant Skaggs. If you two air not able +to hold the enemy in check, you may count on me an' the Army of the +Callahan to grind <i>him</i>—" (How the captain, now thoroughly aroused to +all the fine terms of war, did roll that technical "him" under his +tongue)—"to grind him to pieces ag'in them towerin' rocks, and plunge +him in the foilin' waters of Roarin' Fawk. Forward, suh—double quick." +Lieutenant Skaggs touched his cap. Lieutenant Boggs looked embarrassed +and strode nearer.</p> + +<p>"Captain, whar am I goin' to git ten men to face them Kanetuckians?"</p> + +<p>"Whar air they goin' to git a off'cer to lead 'em, you'd better say," +said the captain, severely, fearing that some of the soldiers had heard +the question. "If you air afeer'd, suh"—and then he saw that no one had +heard, and he winked—winked with most unmilitary familiarity.</p> + +<p>"Air you a good climber, Lieutenant Boggs?" Lieutenant Boggs looked +mystified, but he said he was.</p> + +<p>"Lieutenant Boggs, I now give you the opportunity to show yo' profound +knowledge of the ticktacks of war. You may now be guilty of disobedience +of ordahs, and I will not have you court-martialled for the same. In +other words, if, after a survey of the situation, you think best—why," +the captain's voice dropped to a hoarse whisper, "pull that flag down, +lieutenant Boggs, pull her down."</p> + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 65%;"><br><br> +<a name="III"></a><h2>III</h2> + +<p>It was an hour by sun now. Lieutenant Boggs and his devoted band of ten +were making their way slowly and watchfully up the mighty chasm—the +lieutenant with his hand on his sword and his head bare, and bowed in +thought. The Kentuckians were on their way—at that moment they might be +riding full speed toward the mouth of Pigeon, where floated the flag. +They might gobble him and his command up when they emerged from the Gap. +Suppose they caught him up that tree. His command might escape, but <i>he</i> +would be up there, saving them the trouble of stringing him up. All they +would have to do would be to send up after him a man with a rope, and +let him drop. That was enough. Lieutenant Boggs called a halt and +explained the real purpose of the expedition.</p> + +<p>"We will wait here till dark," he said, "so them Kanetuckians can't +ketch us, whilst we are climbing that tree."</p> + +<p>And so they waited opposite Bee Rock, which was making ready to blossom +with purple rhododendrons. And the reserve back in the Gap, under +Lieutenant Skaggs, waited. Waited, too, the Army of the Callahan at the +mouth of the Gap, and waited restlessly Captain Wells at the door of his +tent, and Flitter Bill on the stoop of his store—waited everybody but +Tallow Dick, who, in the general confusion, was slipping through the +rhododendrons along the bank of Roaring Fork, until he could climb the +mountain-side and slip through the Gap high over the army's head.</p> + +<p>What could have happened?</p> + +<p>When dusk was falling, Captain Wells dispatched a messenger to +Lieutenant Skaggs and his reserve, and got an answer; Lieutenant Skaggs +feared that Boggs had been captured without the firing of a single +shot—but the flag was floating still. An hour later, Lieutenant Skaggs +sent another message—he could not see the flag. Captain Wells answered, +stoutly:</p> + +<p>"Hold yo' own."</p> + +<p>And so, as darkness fell, the Army of the Callahan waited in the strain +of mortal expectancy as one man; and Flitter Bill waited, with his horse +standing saddled in the barn, ready for swift flight. And, as darkness +fell, Tallow Dick was cautiously picking his way alongside the steep +wall of the Gap toward freedom, and picking it with stealthy caution, +foot by foot; for up there, to this day, big loose rocks mount halfway +to the jagged points of the black cliffs, and a careless step would have +detached one and sent an avalanche of rumbling stones down to betray +him. A single shot rang suddenly out far up through the Gap, and the +startled negro sprang forward, slipped, and, with a low, frightened +oath, lay still. Another shot followed, and another. Then a hoarse +murmur rose, loudened into thunder, and ended in a frightful—boom! One +yell rang from the army's throat:</p> + +<p>"The Kentuckians! The Kentuckians! The wild, long-haired, terrible +Kentuckians!"</p> + +<p>Captain Wells sprang into the air.</p> + +<p>"My God, they've got a cannon!"</p> + +<p>Then there was a martial chorus—the crack of rifle, the hoarse cough of +horse-pistol, the roar of old muskets.</p> + +<p>"Bing! Bang! Boom! Bing—bing! Bang—bang! Boom—boom! +Bing—bang—boom!"</p> + +<p>Lieutenant Skaggs and his reserves heard the beat of running feet down +the Gap.</p> + +<p>"They've gobbled Boggs," he said, and the reserve rushed after him as he +fled. The army heard the beat of their coming feet.</p> + +<p>"They've gobbled Skaggs," the army said.</p> + +<p>Then was there bedlam as the army fled—a crashing through bushes—a +splashing into the river, the rumble of mule wagons, yells of terror, +swift flying shapes through the pale moonlight. Flitter Bill heard the +din as he stood by his barn door.</p> + +<p>"They've gobbled the army," said Flitter Bill, and he, too, fled like a +shadow down the valley.</p> + +<p>Nature never explodes such wild and senseless energy as when she lets +loose a mob in a panic. With the army, it was each man for himself and +devil take the hindmost; and the flight of the army was like a flight +from the very devil himself. Lieutenant Boggs, whose feet were the +swiftest in the hills, outstripped his devoted band. Lieutenant Skaggs, +being fat and slow, fell far behind his reserve, and dropped exhausted +on a rock for a moment to get his breath. As he rose, panting, to resume +flight, a figure bounded out of the darkness behind him, and he gathered +it in silently and went with it to the ground, where both fought +silently in the dust until they rolled into the moonlight and each +looked the other in the face.</p> + +<p>"That you, Jim Skaggs?"</p> + +<p>"That you, Tom Boggs?"</p> + +<p>Then the two lieutenants rose swiftly, but a third shape bounded into +the road—a gigantic figure—Black Tom! With a startled yell they +gathered him in—one by the waist, the other about the neck, and, for a +moment, the terrible Kentuckian—it could be none other—swung the two +clear of the ground, but the doughty lieutenants hung to him. Boggs +trying to get his knife and Skaggs his pistol, and all went down in a +heap.</p> + +<p>"I surrender—I surrender!" It was the giant who spoke, and at the sound +of his voice both men ceased to struggle, and, strange to say, no one of +the three laughed.</p> + +<p>"Lieutenant Boggs," said Captain Wells, thickly, "take yo' thumb out o' +my mouth. Lieutenant Skaggs, leggo my leg an' stop bitin' me."</p> + +<p>"Sh—sh—sh—" said all three.</p> + +<p>The faint swish of bushes as Lieutenant Boggs's ten men scuttled into +the brush behind them—the distant beat of the army's feet getting +fainter ahead of them, and then silence—dead, dead silence.</p> + +<p>"Sh—sh—sh!"</p> + +<p>With the red streaks of dawn Captain Mayhall Wells was pacing up and +down in front of Flitter Bill's store, a gaping crowd about him, and the +shattered remnants of the army drawn up along Roaring Fork in the rear. +An hour later Flitter Bill rode calmly in.</p> + +<p>"I stayed all night down the valley," said Flitter Bill. "Uncle Jim +Richmond was sick. I hear you had some trouble last night, Captain +Wells." The captain expanded his chest.</p> + +<p>"Trouble!" he repeated, sarcastically. And then he told how a charging +horde of daredevils had driven him from camp with overwhelming numbers +and one piece of artillery; how he had rallied the army and fought them +back, foot by foot, and put them to fearful rout; how the army had +fallen back again just when the Kentuckians were running like sheep, and +how he himself had stayed in the rear with Lieutenant Boggs and +Lieutenant Skaggs, "to cover their retreat, suh," and how the purveyor, +if he would just go up through the Gap, would doubtless find the cannon +that the enemy had left behind in their flight. It was just while he was +thus telling the tale for the twentieth time that two figures appeared +over the brow of the hill and drew near—Hence Sturgill on horseback and +Tallow Dick on foot.</p> + +<p>"I ketched this nigger in my corn-fiel' this mornin'," said Hence, +simply, and Flitter Bill glared, and without a word went for the +blacksnake ox-whip that hung by the barn door.</p> + +<p>For the twenty-first time Captain Wells started his tale again, and with +every pause that he made for breath Hence cackled scorn.</p> + +<p>"An', Hence Sturgill, ef you will jus' go up in the Gap you'll find a +cannon, captured, suh, by me an' the Army of the Callahan, an'—"</p> + +<a name="Speak" href="Illus0104.jpg"><img src="Illus0104-t.jpg" align="left" alt=""Speak up, nigger.""></a> + +<p>"Cannon!" Hence broke in. "Speak up, nigger!" And Tallow Dick spoke +up—grinning:</p> + +<p>"I done it!"</p> + +<p>"What!" shouted Flitter Bill.</p> + +<p>"I kicked a rock loose climbin' over Callahan's Nose."</p> + +<p>Bill dropped his whip with a chuckle of pure ecstasy. Mayhall paled and +stared. The crowd roared, the Army of the Callahan grinned, and Hence +climbed back on his horse.</p> + +<p>"Mayhall Wells," he said, "plain ole Mayhall Wells, I'll see you on +Couht Day. I ain't got time now."</p> + +<p>And he rode away.</p> + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 65%;"><br><br> +<a name="IV"></a><h2>IV</h2> + +<p>That day Captain Mayhall Wells and the Army of the Callahan were in +disrepute. Next day the awful news of Lee's surrender came. Captain +Wells refused to believe it, and still made heroic effort to keep his +shattered command together. Looking for recruits on Court Day, he was +twitted about the rout of the army by Hence Sturgill, whose long-coveted +chance to redeem himself had come. Again, as several times before, the +captain declined to fight—his health was essential to the general +well-being—but Hence laughed in his face, and the captain had to face +the music, though the heart of him was gone.</p> + +<p>He fought well, for he was fighting for his all, and he knew it. He +could have whipped with ease, and he did whip, but the spirit of the +thoroughbred was not in Captain Mayhall Wells. He had Sturgill down, but +Hence sank his teeth into Mayhall's thigh while Mayhall's hands grasped +his opponent's throat. The captain had only to squeeze, as every +rough-and-tumble fighter knew, and endure his pain until Hence would +have to give in. But Mayhall was not built to endure. He roared like a +bull as soon as the teeth met in his flesh, his fingers relaxed, and to +the disgusted surprise of everybody he began to roar with great +distinctness and agony:</p> + +<p>"'Nough! 'Nough!"</p> + +<p>The end was come, and nobody knew it better than Mayhall Wells. He rode +home that night with hands folded on the pommel of his saddle and his +beard crushed by his chin against his breast. For the last time, next +morning he rode down to Flitter Bill's store. On the way he met Parson +Kilburn and for the last time Mayhall Wells straightened his shoulders +and for one moment more resumed his part: perhaps the parson had not +heard of his fall.</p> + +<p>"Good-mornin', parsing," he said, pleasantly. "Ah—where have you been?" +The parson was returning from Cumberland Gap, whither he had gone to +take the oath of allegiance.</p> + +<p>"By the way, I have something here for you which Flitter Bill asked me +to give you. He said it was from the commandant at Cumberland Gap."</p> + +<p>"Fer me?" asked the captain—hope springing anew in his heart. The +parson handed him a letter. Mayhall looked at it upside down.</p> + +<p>"If you please, parsing," he said, handing it back, "I hev left my +specs at home."</p> + +<p>The parson read that, whereas Captain Wells had been guilty of grave +misdemeanors while in command of the Army of the Callahan, he should be +arrested and court-martialled for the same, or be given the privilege of +leaving the county in twenty-four hours. Mayhall's face paled a little +and he stroked his beard.</p> + +<p>"Ah—does anybody but you know about this ordah, parsing?"</p> + +<p>"Nobody."</p> + +<p>"Well, if you will do me the great favor, parsing, of not mentioning it +to nary a living soul—as fer me and my ole gray hoss and my household +furniture—we'll be in Kanetuck afore daybreak to-morrow mornin'!" And +he was.</p> + +<p>But he rode on just then and presented himself for the last time at the +store of Flitter Bill. Bill was sitting on the stoop in his favorite +posture. And in a moment there stood before him plain Mayhall +Wells—holding out the order Bill had given the parson that day.</p> + +<p>"Misto Richmond," he said, "I have come to tell you good-by."</p> + +<p>Now just above the selfish layers of fat under Flitter Bill's chubby +hands was a very kind heart. When he saw Mayhall's old manner and heard +the old respectful way of address, and felt the dazed helplessness of +the big, beaten man, the heart thumped.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry about that little amount I owe you; I think I'll be able +shortly—" But Bill cut him short. Mayhall Wells, beaten, disgraced, +driven from home on charge of petty crimes, of which he was undoubtedly +guilty, but for which Bill knew he himself was responsible—Mayhall on +his way into exile and still persuading himself and, at that moment, +almost persuading him that he meant to pay that little debt of long +ago—was too much for Flitter Bill, and he proceeded to lie—lying with +deliberation and pleasure.</p> + +<p>"Captain Wells," he said—and the emphasis on the title was balm to +Mayhall's soul—"you have protected me in time of war, an' you air +welcome to yo' uniform an' you air welcome to that little debt. Yes," he +went on, reaching down into his pocket and pulling out a roll of bills, +"I tender you in payment for that same protection the regular pay of a +officer in the Confederate service"—and he handed out the army pay for +three months in Confederate greenbacks—"an' five dollars in money of +the United States, of which I an', doubtless, you, suh, air true and +loyal citizens. Captain Wells, I bid you good-by an' I wish ye well—I +wish ye well."</p> + +<p>From the stoop of his store Bill watched the captain ride away, +drooping at the shoulders, and with his hands folded on the pommel of +his saddle—his dim blue eyes misty, the jaunty forage cap a mockery of +his iron-gray hair, and the flaps of his coat fanning either side like +mournful wings.</p> + +<p>And Flitter Bill muttered to himself:</p> + +<p>"Atter he's gone long enough fer these things to blow over, I'm going to +bring him back and give him another chance—yes, damme if I don't git +him back."</p> + +<p>And Bill dropped his remorseful eye to the order in his hand. Like the +handwriting of the order that lifted Mayhall like magic into power, the +handwriting of this order, that dropped him like a stone—was Flitter +Bill's own.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 65%;"><br><br> +<a name="THE_PARDON_OF_BECKY_DAY"></a><h2>THE PARDON OF BECKY DAY</h2> +<br> + +<p>The missionary was young and she was from the North. Her brows were +straight, her nose was rather high, and her eyes were clear and gray. +The upper lip of her little mouth was so short that the teeth just under +it were never quite concealed. It was the mouth of a child and it gave +the face, with all its strength and high purpose, a peculiar pathos that +no soul in that little mountain town had the power to see or feel. A +yellow mule was hitched to the rickety fence in front of her and she +stood on the stoop of a little white frame-house with an elm switch +between her teeth and gloves on her hands, which were white and looked +strong. The mule wore a man's saddle, but no matter—the streets were +full of yellow pools, the mud was ankle-deep, and she was on her way to +the sick-bed of Becky Day.</p> + +<p>There was a flood that morning. All the preceding day the rains had +drenched the high slopes unceasingly. That night, the rain-clear forks +of the Kentucky got yellow and rose high, and now they crashed together +around the town and, after a heaving conflict, started the river on one +quivering, majestic sweep to the sea.</p> + +<p>Nobody gave heed that the girl rode a mule or that the saddle was not +her own, and both facts she herself quickly forgot. This half log, half +frame house on a corner had stood a siege once. She could yet see bullet +holes about the door. Through this window, a revenue officer from the +Blue Grass had got a bullet in the shoulder from a garden in the rear. +Standing in the post-office door only just one month before, she herself +had seen children scurrying like rabbits through the back-yard fences, +men running silently here and there, men dodging into doorways, fire +flashing in the street and from every house—and not a sound but the +crack of pistol and Winchester; for the mountain men deal death in all +the terrible silence of death. And now a preacher with a long scar +across his forehead had come to the one little church in the place and +the fervor of religion was struggling with feudal hate for possession of +the town. To the girl, who saw a symbol in every mood of the earth, the +passions of these primitive people were like the treacherous streams of +the uplands—now quiet as sunny skies and now clashing together with but +little less fury and with much more noise. And the roar of the flood +above the wind that late afternoon was the wrath of the Father, that +with the peace of the Son so long on earth, such things still could be. +Once more trouble was threatening and that day even she knew that +trouble might come, but she rode without fear, for she went when and +where she pleased as any woman can, throughout the Cumberland, without +insult or harm.</p> + +<p>At the end of the street were two houses that seemed to front each other +with unmistakable enmity. In them were two men who had wounded each +other only the day before, and who that day would lead the factions, if +the old feud broke loose again. One house was close to the frothing hem +of the flood—a log-hut with a shed of rough boards for a kitchen—the +home of Becky Day.</p> + +<p>The other was across the way and was framed and smartly painted. On the +steps sat a woman with her head bare and her hands under her +apron—widow of the Marcum whose death from a bullet one month before +had broken the long truce of the feud. A groaning curse was growled from +the window as the girl drew near, and she knew it came from a wounded +Marcum who had lately come back from the West to avenge his brother's +death.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you go over to see your neighbor?" The girl's clear eyes gave +no hint that she knew—as she well did—the trouble between the houses, +and the widow stared in sheer amazement, for mountaineers do not talk +with strangers of the quarrels between them.</p> + +<p>"I have nothin' to do with such as her," she said, sullenly; "she ain't +the kind—"</p> + +<p>"Don't!" said the girl, with a flush, "she's dying."</p> + +<p>"<i>Dyin?</i>"</p> + +<p>"Yes." With the word the girl sprang from the mule and threw the reins +over the pale of the fence in front of the log-hut across the way. In +the doorway she turned as though she would speak to the woman on the +steps again, but a tall man with a black beard appeared in the low door +of the kitchen-shed.</p> + +<p>"How is your—how is Mrs. Day?"</p> + +<p>"Mighty puny this mornin'—Becky is."</p> + +<p>The girl slipped into the dark room. On a disordered, pillowless bed lay +a white face with eyes closed and mouth slightly open. Near the bed was +a low wood fire. On the hearth were several thick cups filled with herbs +and heavy fluids and covered with tarpaulin, for Becky's "man" was a +teamster. With a few touches of the girl's quick hands, the covers of +the bed were smooth, and the woman's eyes rested on the girl's own +cloak. With her own handkerchief she brushed the death-damp from the +forehead that already seemed growing cold. At her first touch, the +woman's eyelids opened and dropped together again. Her lips moved, but +no sound came from them.</p> + +<p>In a moment the ashes disappeared, the hearth was clean and the fire was +blazing. Every time the girl passed the window she saw the widow across +the way staring hard at the hut. When she took the ashes into the +street, the woman spoke to her.</p> + +<p>"I can't go to see Becky—she hates me."</p> + +<p>"With good reason."</p> + +<p>The answer came with a clear sharpness that made the widow start and +redden angrily; but the girl walked straight to the gate, her eyes +ablaze with all the courage that the mountain woman knew and yet with +another courage to which the primitive creature was a stranger—a +courage that made the widow lower her own eyes and twist her hands under +her apron.</p> + +<p>"I want you to come and ask Becky to forgive you."</p> + +<p>The woman stared and laughed.</p> + +<p>"Forgive me? Becky forgive me? She wouldn't—an' I don't want her—" She +could not look up into the girl's eyes; but she pulled a pipe from under +the apron, laid it down with a trembling hand and began to rock +slightly.</p> + +<p>The girl leaned across the gate.</p> + +<p>"Look at me!" she said, sharply. The woman raised her eyes, swerved +them once, and then in spite of herself, held them steady.</p> + +<p>"Listen! Do you want a dying woman's curse?"</p> + +<p>It was a straight thrust to the core of a superstitious heart and a +spasm of terror crossed the woman's face. She began to wring her hands.</p> + +<p>"Come on!" said the girl, sternly, and turned, without looking back, +until she reached the door of the hut, where she beckoned and stood +waiting, while the woman started slowly and helplessly from the steps, +still wringing her hands. Inside, behind her, the wounded Marcum, who +had been listening, raised himself on one elbow and looked after her +through the window.</p> + +<p>"She can't come in—not while I'm in here."</p> + +<p>The girl turned quickly. It was Dave Day, the teamster, in the kitchen +door, and his face looked blacker than his beard.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" she said, simply, as though hurt, and then with a dignity that +surprised her, the teamster turned and strode towards the back door.</p> + +<p>"But I can git out, I reckon," he said, and he never looked at the widow +who had stopped, frightened, at the gate.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I can't—I <i>can't!</i>" she said, and her voice broke; but the girl +gently pushed her to the door, where she stopped again, leaning against +the lintel. Across the way, the wounded Marcum, with a scowl of wonder, +crawled out of his bed and started painfully to the door. The girl saw +him and her heart beat fast.</p> + +<p>Inside, Becky lay with closed eyes. She stirred uneasily, as though she +felt some hated presence, but her eyes stayed fast, for the presence of +Death in the room was stronger still.</p> + +<p>"Becky!" At the broken cry, Becky's eyes flashed wide and fire broke +through the haze that had gathered in them.</p> + +<p>"I want ye ter fergive me, Becky."</p> + +<p>The eyes burned steadily for a long time. For two days she had not +spoken, but her voice came now, as though from the grave.</p> + +<p>"You!" she said, and, again, with torturing scorn, "You!" And then she +smiled, for she knew why her enemy was there, and her hour of triumph +was come. The girl moved swiftly to the window—she could see the +wounded Marcum slowly crossing the street, pistol in hand.</p> + +<p>"What'd I ever do to you?"</p> + +<p>"Nothin', Becky, nothin'."</p> + +<p>Becky laughed harshly. "You can tell the truth—can't ye—to a dyin' +woman?"</p> + +<p>"Fergive me, Becky!"</p> + +<p>A scowling face, tortured with pain, was thrust into the window.</p> + +<p>"Sh-h!" whispered the girl, imperiously, and the man lifted his heavy +eyes, dropped one elbow on the window-sill and waited.</p> + +<p>"You tuk Jim from me!"</p> + +<p>The widow covered her face with her hands, and the Marcum at the +window—brother to Jim, who was dead—lowered at her, listening keenly.</p> + +<p>"An' you got him by lyin' 'bout me. You tuk him by lyin' 'bout +me—didn't ye? Didn't ye?" she repeated, fiercely, and her voice would +have wrung the truth from a stone.</p> + +<p>"Yes—Becky—yes!"</p> + +<p>"You hear?" cried Becky, turning her eyes to the girl.</p> + +<p>"You made him believe an' made ever'body, you could, believe that I +was—was <i>bad</i>" Her breath got short, but the terrible arraignment went +on.</p> + +<p>"You started this war. My brother wouldn't 'a' shot Jim Marcum if it +hadn't been fer you. You killed Jim—your own husband—an' you killed +<i>me</i>. An' now you want me to fergive you—you!" She raised her right +hand as though with it she would hurl the curse behind her lips, and the +widow, with a cry, sprang for the bony fingers, catching them in her own +hand and falling over on her knees at the bedside.</p> + +<p>"Don't, Becky, don't—don't—<i>don't!</i>"</p> + +<p>There was a slight rustle at the back window. At the other, a pistol +flashed into sight and dropped again below the sill. Turning, the girl +saw Dave's bushy black head—he, too, with one elbow on the sill and the +other hand out of sight.</p> + +<p>"Shame!" she said, looking from one to the other of the two men, who had +learned, at last, the bottom truth of the feud; and then she caught the +sick woman's other hand and spoke quickly.</p> + +<p>"Hush, Becky," she said; and at the touch of her hand and the sound of +her voice, Becky looked confusedly at her and let her upraised hand sink +back to the bed. The widow stared swiftly from Jim's brother, at one +window, to Dave Day at the other, and hid her face on her arms.</p> + +<p>"Remember, Becky—how can you expect forgiveness in another world, +unless you forgive in this?"</p> + +<p>The woman's brow knitted and she lay quiet. Like the widow who held her +hand, the dying woman believed, with never the shadow of a doubt, that +somewhere above the stars, a living God reigned in a heaven of +never-ending happiness; that somewhere beneath the earth a personal +devil gloated over souls in eternal torture; that whether she went +above, or below, hung solely on her last hour of contrition; and that +in heaven or hell she would know those whom she might meet as surely as +she had known them on earth. By and by her face softened and she drew a +long breath.</p> + +<p>"Jim was a good man," she said. And then after a moment:</p> + +<p>"An' I was a good woman"—she turned her eyes towards the girl—"until +Jim married <i>her</i>. I didn't keer after that." Then she got calm, and +while she spoke to the widow, she looked at the girl.</p> + +<p>"Will you git up in church an' say before everybody that you knew I was +<i>good</i> when you said I was bad—that you lied about me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—yes." Still Becky looked at the girl, who stooped again.</p> + +<p>"She will, Becky, I know she will. Won't you forgive her and leave peace +behind you? Dave and Jim's brother are here—make them shake hands. +Won't you—won't you?" she asked, turning from one to the other.</p> + +<p>Both men were silent.</p> + +<p>"Won't you?" she repeated, looking at Jim's brother.</p> + +<p>"I've got nothin' agin Dave. I always thought that she"—he did not call +his brother's wife by name—"caused all this trouble. I've nothin' agin +Dave."</p> + +<p>The girl turned. "Won't you, Dave?"</p> + +<p>"I'm waitin' to hear whut Becky says."</p> + +<p>Becky was listening, though her eyes were closed. Her brows knitted +painfully. It was a hard compromise that she was asked to make i between +mortal hate and a love that was more than mortal, but the Plea that has +stood between them for nearly twenty centuries prevailed, and the girl +knew that the end of the feud was nigh.</p> + +<p>Becky nodded.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I fergive her, an' I want 'em to shake hands."</p> + +<p>But not once did she turn her eyes to the woman whom she forgave, and +the hand that the widow held gave back no answering pressure. The faces +at the windows disappeared, and she motioned for the girl to take her +weeping enemy away.</p> + +<p>She did not open her eyes when the girl came back, but her lips moved +and the girl bent above her.</p> + +<p>"I know whar Jim is."</p> + +<p>From somewhere outside came Dave's cough, and the dying woman turned her +head as though she were reminded of something she had quite forgotten. +Then, straightway, she forgot again.</p> + +<p>The voice of the flood had deepened. A smile came to Becky's lips—a +faint, terrible smile of triumph. The girl bent low and, with a +startled face, shrank back.</p> + +<p>"<i>An' I'll—git—thar—first.</i>"</p> + +<p>With that whisper went Becky's last breath, but the smile was there, +even when her lips were cold.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 65%;"><br><br> +<a name="A_CRISIS_FOR_THE_GUARD"></a><h2>A CRISIS FOR THE GUARD</h2> +<br> + +<p>The tutor was from New England, and he was precisely what passes, with +Southerners, as typical. He was thin, he wore spectacles, he talked +dreamy abstractions, and he looked clerical. Indeed, his ancestors had +been clergymen for generations, and, by nature and principle, he was an +apostle of peace and a non-combatant. He had just come to the Gap—a +cleft in the Cumberland Mountains—to prepare two young Blue Grass +Kentuckians for Harvard. The railroad was still thirty miles away, and +he had travelled mule-back through mudholes, on which, as the joke ran, +a traveller was supposed to leave his card before he entered and +disappeared—that his successor might not unknowingly press him too +hard. I do know that, in those mudholes, mules were sometimes drowned. +The tutor's gray mule fell over a bank with him, and he would have gone +back had he not feared what was behind more than anything that was +possible ahead. He was mud-bespattered, sore, tired and dispirited when +he reached the Gap, but still plucky and full of business. He wanted to +see his pupils at once and arrange his schedule. They came in after +supper, and I had to laugh when I saw his mild eyes open. The boys were +only fifteen and seventeen, but each had around him a huge revolver and +a belt of cartridges, which he unbuckled and laid on the table after +shaking hands. The tutor's shining glasses were raised to me for light. +I gave it: my brothers had just come in from a little police duty, I +explained. Everybody was a policeman at the Gap, I added; and, +naturally, he still looked puzzled; but he began at once to question the +boys about their studies, and, in an hour, he had his daily schedule +mapped out and submitted to me. I had to cover my mouth with my hand +when I came to one item—"Exercise: a walk of half an hour every +Wednesday afternoon between five and six"—for the younger, known since +at Harvard as the colonel, and known then at the Gap as the Infant of +the Guard, winked most irreverently. As he had just come back from a +ten-mile chase down the valley on horseback after a bad butcher, and as +either was apt to have a like experience any and every day, I was not +afraid they would fail to get exercise enough; so I let that item of the +tutor pass.</p> + +<p>The tutor slept in my room that night, and my four brothers, the eldest +of whom was a lieutenant on the police guard, in a room across the +hallway. I explained to the tutor that there was much lawlessness in +the region; that we "foreigners" were trying to build a town, and that, +to ensure law and order, we had all become volunteer policemen. He +seemed to think it was most interesting.</p> + +<p>About three o'clock in the morning a shrill whistle blew, and, from +habit, I sprang out of bed. I had hardly struck the floor when four +pairs of heavy boots thundered down the stairs just outside the door, +and I heard a gasp from the startled tutor. He was bolt upright in bed, +and his face in the moonlight was white with fear.</p> + +<p>"Wha—wha—what's that?"</p> + +<p>I told him it was a police whistle and that the boys were answering it. +Everybody jumped when he heard a whistle, I explained; for nobody in +town was permitted to blow one except a policeman. I guessed there would +be enough men answering that whistle without me, however, and I slipped +back into bed.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said; and when the boys lumbered upstairs again and one +shouted through the door, "All right!" the tutor said again with +emphasis: "Well!"</p> + +<p>Next day there was to be a political gathering at the Gap. A Senator was +trying to lift himself by his own boot-straps into the Governor's +chair. He was going to make a speech, there would be a big and unruly +crowd, and it would be a crucial day for the Guard. So, next morning, I +suggested to the tutor that it would be unwise for him to begin work +with his pupils that day, for the reason that he was likely to be +greatly interrupted and often. He thought, however, he would like to +begin. He did begin, and within half an hour Gordon, the town sergeant, +thrust his head inside the door and called the colonel by name.</p> + +<p>"Come on," he said; "they're going to try that d—n butcher." And seeing +from the tutor's face that he had done something dreadful, he slammed +the door in apologetic confusion. The tutor was law-abiding, and it was +the law that called the colonel, and so the tutor let him go—nay, went +with him and heard the case. The butcher had gone off on another man's +horse—the man owed him money, he said, and the only way he could get +his money was to take the horse as security. But the sergeant did not +know this, and he and the colonel rode after him, and the colonel, +having the swifter horse, but not having had time to get his own pistol, +took the sergeant's and went ahead. He fired quite close to the running +butcher twice, and the butcher thought it wise to halt. When he saw the +child who had captured him he was speechless, and he got off his horse +and cut a big switch to give the colonel a whipping, but the doughty +Infant drew down on him again and made him ride, foaming with rage, back +to town. The butcher was good-natured at the trial, however, and the +tutor heard him say, with a great guffaw:</p> + +<p>"An' I <i>do</i> believe the d—n little fool would 'a' shot me."</p> + +<p>Once more the tutor looked at the pupil whom he was to lead into the +classic halls of Harvard, and once more he said:</p> + +<p>"Well!"</p> + +<p>People were streaming into town now, and I persuaded the tutor that +there was no use for him to begin his studies again. He said he would go +fishing down the river and take a swim. He would get back in time to +hear the speaking in the afternoon. So I got him a horse, and he came +out with a long cane fishing-pole and a pair of saddle-bags. I told him +that he must watch the old nag or she would run away with him, +particularly when he started homeward. The tutor was not much of a +centaur. The horse started as he was throwing the wrong leg over his +saddle, and the tutor clamped his rod under one arm, clutching for the +reins with both hands and kicking for his stirrups with both feet. The +tip of the limber pole beat the horse's flank gently as she struck a +trot, and smartly as she struck into a lope, and so with arms, feet, +saddle-pockets, and fishing-rod flapping towards different points of the +compass, the tutor passed out of sight over Poplar Hill on a dead run.</p> + +<p>As soon as he could get over a fit of laughter and catch his breath, the +colonel asked:</p> + +<p>"Do you know what he had in those saddle-pockets?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"A bathing suit," he shouted; and he went off again.</p> + +<p>Not even in a primeval forest, it seemed, would the modest Puritan bare +his body to the mirror of limpid water and the caress of mountain air.</p> + +<br><hr style="width: 45%;"><br> + +<p>The trouble had begun early that morning, when Gordon, the town +sergeant, stepped from his door and started down the street with no +little self-satisfaction. He had been arraying himself for a full hour, +and after a tub-bath and a shave he stepped, spic and span, into the +street with his head steadily held high, except when he bent it to look +at the shine of his boots, which was the work of his own hands, and of +which he was proud. As a matter of fact, the sergeant felt that he +looked just as he particularly wanted to look on that day—his best. +Gordon was a native of Wise, but that day a girl was coming from Lee, +and he was ready for her.</p> + +<p>Opposite the Intermont, a pistol-shot cracked from Cherokee Avenue, and +from habit he started that way. Logan, the captain of the Guard—the +leading lawyer in that part of the State—was ahead of him however, and +he called to Gordon to follow. Gordon ran in the grass along the road to +keep those boots out of the dust. Somebody had fired off his pistol for +fun and was making tracks for the river. As they pushed the miscreant +close, he dashed into the river to wade across. It was a very cold +morning, and Gordon prayed that the captain was not going to be such a +fool as to follow the fellow across the river. He should have known +better,</p> + +<p>"In with you," said the captain quietly, and the mirror of the shining +boots was dimmed, and the icy water chilled the sergeant to the knees +and made him so mad that he flashed his pistol and told the runaway to +halt, which he did in the middle of the stream. It was Richards, the +tough from "the Pocket," and, as he paid his fine promptly, they had to +let him go. Gordon went back, put on his everyday clothes and got his +billy and his whistle and prepared to see the maid from Lee when his +duty should let him. As a matter of fact, he saw her but once, and then +he was not made happy.</p> + +<p>The people had come in rapidly—giants from the Crab Orchard, +mountaineers from through the Gap, and from Cracker's Neck and +Thunderstruck Knob; Valley people from Little Stone-Gap, from the +furnace site and Bum Hollow and Wildcat, and people from Lee, from +Turkey Cove, and from the Pocket—the much-dreaded Pocket—far down in +the river hills.</p> + +<p>They came on foot and on horseback, and left their horses in the bushes +and crowded the streets and filled the saloon of one Jack Woods—who had +the cackling laugh of Satan and did not like the Guard, for good +reasons, and whose particular pleasure was to persuade some customer to +stir up a hornet's nest of trouble. From the saloon the crowd moved up +towards the big spring at the foot of Imboden Hill, where, under +beautiful trunk-mottled beeches, was built the speakers' platform.</p> + +<p>Precisely at three o'clock the local orator much flurried, rose, ran his +hand through his long hair and looked in silence over the crowd.</p> + +<p>"Fellow citizens! There's beauty in the stars, of night and in the +glowin' orb of day. There's beauty in the rollin' meadow and in the +quiet stream. There's beauty in the smilin' valley and in the +everlastin' hills. Therefore, fellow citizens—THEREFORE, fellow +citizens, allow me to introduce to you the future Governor of these +United States—Senator William Bayhone." And he sat down with such a +beatific smile of self-satisfaction that a fiend would not have had the +heart to say he had not won.</p> + +<p>Now, there are wandering minstrels yet in the Cumberland Hills. They +play fiddles and go about making up "ballets" that involve local +history. Sometimes they make a pretty good verse—this, for instance, +about a feud:</p> + +<span style="layout-flow: horizontal; margin-left: 0.5em;">The death of these two men</span><br> +<span style="layout-flow: horizontal; margin-left: 1em;">Caused great trouble in our land.</span><br> +<span style="layout-flow: horizontal; margin-left: 0.5em;">Caused men to leave their families</span><br> +<span style="layout-flow: horizontal; margin-left: 1em;">And take the parting hand.</span><br> +<span style="layout-flow: horizontal; margin-left: 0.5em;">Retaliation, still at war,</span><br> +<span style="layout-flow: horizontal; margin-left: 1em;">May never, never cease.</span><br> +<span style="layout-flow: horizontal; margin-left: 0.5em;">I would that I could only see</span><br> +<span style="layout-flow: horizontal; margin-left: 1em;">Our land once more at peace.</span><br> + +<p>There was a minstrel out in the crowd, and pretty soon he struck up his +fiddle and his lay, and he did not exactly sing the virtues of Billy +Bayhone. Evidently some partisan thought he ought, for he smote him on +the thigh with the toe of his boot and raised such a stir as a rude +stranger might had he smitten a troubadour in Arthur's Court. The crowd +thickened and surged, and four of the Guard emerged with the fiddler and +his assailant under arrest. It was as though the Valley were a sheet of +water straightway and the fiddler the dropping of a stone, for the +ripple of mischief started in every direction. It caught two +mountaineers on the edge of the crowd, who for no particular reason +thumped each other with their huge fists, and were swiftly led away by +that silent Guard. The operation of a mysterious force was in the air +and it puzzled the crowd. Somewhere a whistle would blow, and, from this +point and that, a quiet, well-dressed young man would start swiftly +toward it. The crowd got restless and uneasy, and, by and by, +experimental and defiant. For in that crowd was the spirit of Bunker +Hill and King's Mountain. It couldn't fiddle and sing; it couldn't +settle its little troubles after the good old fashion of fist and skull; +it couldn't charge up and down the streets on horseback if it pleased; +it couldn't ride over those puncheon sidewalks; it couldn't drink openly +and without shame; and, Shades of the American Eagle and the Stars and +Stripes, it couldn't even yell. No wonder, like the heathen, it raged. +What did these blanked "furriners" have against them anyhow? They +couldn't run <i>their</i> country—not much.</p> + +<p>Pretty soon there came a shrill whistle far down-town—then another and +another. It sounded ominous, indeed, and it was, being a signal of +distress from the Infant of the Guard, who stood before the door of Jack +Woods's saloon with his pistol levelled on Richards, the tough from the +Pocket, the Infant, standing there with blazing eyes, alone and in the +heart of a gathering storm.</p> + +<p>Now the chain of lawlessness that had tightened was curious and +significant. There was the tough and his kind—lawless, irresponsible +and possible in any community. There was the farm-hand who had come to +town with the wild son of his employer—an honest, law-abiding farmer. +Came, too, a friend of the farmer who had not yet reaped the crop of +wild oats sown in his youth. Whiskey ran all into one mould. The +farm-hand drank with the tough, the wild son with the farm-hand, and the +three drank together, and got the farmer's unregenerate friend to drink +with them; and he and the law-abiding farmer himself, by and by, took a +drink for old time's sake. Now the cardinal command of rural and +municipal districts all through the South is, "Forsake not your friend": +and it does not take whiskey long to make friends. Jack Woods had given +the tough from the Pocket a whistle.</p> + +<p>"You dassen't blow it," said he.</p> + +<p>Richards asked why, and Jack told him. Straightway the tough blew the +whistle, and when the little colonel ran down to arrest him he laughed +and resisted, and the wild son and the farm-hand and Jack Woods showed +an inclination to take his part. So, holding his "drop" on the tough +with one hand, the Infant blew vigorously for help with the other.</p> + +<p>Logan, the captain, arrived first—he usually arrived first—and Gordon, +the sergeant, was by his side—Gordon was always by his side. He would +have stormed a battery if the captain had led him, and the captain would +have led him—alone—if he thought it was his duty. Logan was as calm as +a stage hero at the crisis of a play. The crowd had pressed close.</p> + +<p>"Take that man," he said sharply, pointing to the tough whom the colonel +held covered, and two men seized him from behind.</p> + +<p>The farm-hand drew his gun.</p> + +<p>"No, you don't!" he shouted.</p> + +<p>"Take <i>him</i>," said the captain quietly; and he was seized by two more and +disarmed.</p> + +<p>It was then that Sturgeon, the wild son, ran up.</p> + +<p>"You can't take that man to jail," he shouted with an oath, pointing at +the farm-hand.</p> + +<p>The captain waved his hand. "And <i>him</i>!"</p> + +<p>As two of the Guard approached, Sturgeon started for his gun. Now, +Sturgeon was Gordon's blood cousin, but Gordon levelled his own pistol. +Sturgeon's weapon caught in his pocket, and he tried to pull it loose. +The moment he succeeded Gordon stood ready to fire. Twice the hammer of +the sergeant's pistol went back almost to the turning-point, and then, +as he pulled the trigger again, Macfarlan, first lieutenant, who once +played lacrosse at Yale, rushed, parting the crowd right and left, and +dropped his billy lightly three times—right, left and right—on +Sturgeon's head. The blood spurted, the head fell back between the +bully's shoulders, his grasp on his pistol loosened, and he sank to his +knees. For a moment the crowd was stunned by the lightning quickness of +it all. It was the first blow ever struck in that country with a piece +of wood in the name of the law.</p> + +<p>"Take 'em on, boys," called the captain, whose face had paled a little, +though he seemed as cool as ever.</p> + +<p>And the boys started, dragging the three struggling prisoners, and the +crowd, growing angrier and angrier, pressed close behind, a hundred of +them, led by the farmer himself, a giant in size, and beside himself +with rage and humiliation. Once he broke through the guard line and was +pushed back. Knives and pistols began to flash now everywhere, and loud +threats and curses rose on all sides—the men should not be taken to +jail. The sergeant, dragging Sturgeon, looked up into the blazing eyes +of a girl on the sidewalk, Sturgeon's sister—the maid from Lee. The +sergeant groaned. Logan gave some order just then to the Infant, who +ran ahead, and by the time the Guard with the prisoners had backed to a +corner there were two lines of Guards drawn across the street. The first +line let the prisoners and their captors through, closed up behind, and +backed slowly towards the corner, where it meant to stand.</p> + +<p>It was very exciting there. Winchesters and shotguns protruded from the +line threateningly, but the mob came on as though it were going to press +through, and determined faces blenched with excitement, but not with +fear. A moment later, the little colonel and the Guards on either side +of him were jabbing at men with cocked Winchesters. At that moment it +would have needed but one shot to ring out to have started an awful +carnage; but not yet was there a man in the mob—and that is the trouble +with mobs—who seemed willing to make a sacrifice of himself that the +others might gain their end. For one moment they halted, cursing and +waving; their pistols, preparing for a charge; and in that crucial +moment the tutor from New England came like a thunderbolt to the rescue. +Shrieks of terror from children, shrieks of outraged modesty from women, +rent the air down the street where the huddled crowd was rushing right +and left in wild confusion, and, through the parting crowd, the tutor +flew into sight on horseback, bareheaded, barefooted, clad in a gaudily +striped bathing suit, with his saddle-pockets flapping behind him like +wings. Some mischievous mountaineers, seeing him in his bathing suit on +the point of a rock up the river, had joyously taken a pot-shot or two +at him, and the tutor had mounted his horse and fled. But he came as +welcome and as effective as an emissary straight from the God of +Battles, though he came against his will, for his old nag was frantic +and was running away. Men, women and children parted before him, and +gaping mouths widened as he passed. The impulse of the crowd ran faster +than his horse, and even the enraged mountaineers in amazed wonder +sprang out of his way, and, far in the rear, a few privileged ones saw +the frantic horse plunge towards his stable, stop suddenly, and pitch +his mottled rider through the door and mercifully out of sight. Human +purpose must give way when a pure miracle comes to earth to baffle it. +It gave way now long enough to let the oaken doors of the calaboose +close behind tough, farm-hand, and the farmer's wild son. The line of +Winchesters at the corner quietly gave way. The power of the Guard was +established, the backbone of the opposition broken; henceforth, the work +for law and order was to be easy compared with what it had been. Up at +the big spring under the beeches sat the disgusted orator of the day +and the disgusted Senator, who, seriously, was quite sure that the +Guard, being composed of Democrats, had taken this way to shatter his +campaign.</p> + +<br><hr style="width: 45%;"><br> + +<p>Next morning, in court, the members of the Guard acted as witnesses +against the culprits. Macfarlan stated that he had struck Sturgeon over +the head to save his life, and Sturgeon, after he had paid his fine, +said he would prefer being shot to being clubbed to death, and he bore +dangerous malice for a long time, until he learned what everybody else +knew, that Macfarlan always did what he thought he ought, and never +spoke anything but the literal truth, whether it hurt friend, foe or +himself.</p> + +<p>After court, Richards, the tough, met Gordon, the sergeant, in the road. +"Gordon," he said, "you swore to a ---- lie about me a while ago."</p> + +<p>"How do you want to fight?" asked Gordon.</p> + +<p>"Fair!"</p> + +<p>"Come on"; and Gordon started for the town limits across the river, +Richards following on horseback. At a store, Gordon unbuckled his belt +and tossed his pistol and his police badge inside. Jack Woods, seeing +this, followed, and the Infant, seeing Woods, followed too. The law was +law, but this affair was personal, and would be settled without the +limits of law and local obligation. Richards tried to talk to Gordon, +but the sergeant walked with his head down, as though he could not +hear—he was too enraged to talk.</p> + +<p>While Richards was hitching his horse in the bushes the sergeant stood +on the bank of the river with his arms folded and his chin swinging from +side to side. When he saw Richards in the open he rushed for him like a +young bull that feels the first swelling of his horns. It was not a +fair, stand-up, knock-down English fight, but a Scotch tussle, in which +either could strike, kick, bite or gouge. After a few blows they +clinched and whirled and fell, Gordon on top—with which advantage he +began to pound the tough from the Pocket savagely. Woods made as if to +pull him off, but the Infant drew his pistol. "Keep off!"</p> + +<p>"He's killing him!" shouted Woods, halting.</p> + +<p>"Let him holler 'Enough,' then," said the Infant.</p> + +<p>"He's killing him!" shouted Woods.</p> + +<p>"Let Gordon's friends take him off, then," said the Infant. "Don't <i>you</i> +touch him."</p> + +<p>And it was done. Richards was senseless and speechless—he really +couldn't shout "Enough." But he was content, and the day left a very +satisfactory impression on him and on his friends.</p> + +<p>If they misbehaved in town they would be arrested: that was plain. But +it was also plain that if anybody had a personal grievance against one +of the Guard he could call him out of the town limits and get +satisfaction, after the way of his fathers. There was nothing personal +at all in the attitude of the Guard towards the outsiders; which +recognition was a great stride toward mutual understanding and final +high regard.</p> + +<p>All that day I saw that something was troubling the tutor from New +England. It was the Moral Sense of the Puritan at work, I supposed, and, +that night, when I came in with a new supply of "billies" and gave one +to each of my brothers, the tutor looked up over his glasses and cleared +his throat.</p> + +<p>"Now," said I to myself, "we shall catch it hot on the savagery of the +South and the barbarous Method of keeping it down"; but before he had +said three words the colonel looked as though he were going to get up +and slap the little dignitary on the back—which would have created a +sensation indeed.</p> + +<p>"Have you an extra one of those—those—"</p> + +<p>"Billies?" I said, wonderingly.</p> + +<p>"Yes. I—I believe I shall join the Guard myself," said the tutor from +New England.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 65%;"><br><br> +<a name="CHRISTMAS_NIGHT_WITH_SATAN"></a><h2>CHRISTMAS NIGHT WITH SATAN</h2> +<br> + +<p>No night was this in Hades with solemn-eyed Dante, for Satan was only a +woolly little black dog, and surely no dog was ever more absurdly +misnamed. When Uncle Carey first heard that name, he asked gravely:</p> + +<p>"Why, Dinnie, where in h----," Uncle Carey gulped slightly, "did you get +him?" And Dinnie laughed merrily, for she saw the fun of the question, +and shook her black curls.</p> + +<p>"He didn't come f'um <i>that place</i>."</p> + +<p>Distinctly Satan had not come from that place. On the contrary, he might +by a miracle have dropped straight from some Happy Hunting-ground, for +all the signs he gave of having touched pitch in this or another sphere. +Nothing human was ever born that was gentler, merrier, more trusting or +more lovable than Satan. That was why Uncle Carey said again gravelyt +hat he could hardly tell Satan and his little mistress apart. He rarely +saw them apart, and as both had black tangled hair and bright black +eyes; as one awoke every morning with a happy smile and the other with a +jolly bark; as they played all day like wind-shaken shadows and each +won every heart at first sight—the likeness was really rather curious. +I have always believed that Satan made the spirit of Dinnie's house, +orthodox and severe though it was, almost kindly toward his great +namesake. I know I have never been able, since I knew little Satan, to +think old Satan as bad as I once painted him, though I am sure the +little dog had many pretty tricks that the "old boy" doubtless has never +used in order to amuse his friends.</p> + +<p>"Shut the door, Saty, please." Dinnie would say, precisely as she would +say it to Uncle Billy, the butler, and straightway Satan would launch +himself at it—bang! He never would learn to close it softly, for Satan +liked that—bang!</p> + +<p>If you kept tossing a coin or marble in the air, Satan would keep +catching it and putting it back in your hand for another throw, till you +got tired. Then he would drop it on a piece of rag carpet, snatch the +carpet with his teeth, throw the coin across the room and rush for it +like mad, until he got tired. If you put a penny on his nose, he would +wait until you counted, one—two—<i>three</i>! Then he would toss it up +himself and catch it. Thus, perhaps, Satan grew to love Mammon right +well, but for another and better reason than that he liked simply to +throw it around—as shall now be made plain.</p> + +<a name="Satan" href="Illus0105.jpg"><img src="Illus0105-t.jpg" align="left" alt="Satan would drop the coin and get a ball for himself"></a> + +<p>A rubber ball with a hole in it was his favorite plaything, and he +would take it in his mouth and rush around the house like a child, +squeezing it to make it whistle. When he got a new ball, he would hide +his old one away until the new one was the worse worn of the two, and +then he would bring out the old one again. If Dinnie gave him a nickel +or a dime, when they went down-town, Satan would rush into a store, rear +up on the counter where the rubber balls were kept, drop the coin, and +get a ball for himself. Thus, Satan learned finance. He began to hoard, +his pennies, and one day Uncle Carey found a pile of seventeen under a +corner of the carpet. Usually he carried to Dinnie all coins that he +found in the street, but he showed one day that he was going into the +ball-business for himself. Uncle Carey had given Dinnie a nickel for +some candy, and, as usual, Satan trotted down the street behind her. As +usual, Satan stopped before the knick-knack shop.</p> + +<p>"Tum on, Saty," said Dinnie. Satan reared against the door as he always +did, and Dinnie said again:</p> + +<p>"Tum on, Saty." As usual, Satan dropped to his haunches, but what was +unusual, he failed to bark. Now Dinnie had got a new ball for Satan only +that morning, so Dinnie stamped her foot.</p> + +<p>"I tell you to turn on, Saty." Satan never moved. He looked at Dinnie +as much as to say:</p> + +<p>"I have never disobeyed you before, little mistress, but this time I +have an excellent reason for what must seem to you very bad manners—" +and being a gentleman withal, Satan rose on his haunches and begged.</p> + +<p>"You're des a pig, Saty," said Dinnie, but with a sigh for the candy +that was not to be, Dinnie opened the door, and Satan, to her wonder, +rushed to the counter, put his forepaws on it, and dropped from his +mouth a dime. Satan had found that coin on the street. He didn't bark +for change, nor beg for two balls, but he had got it in his woolly +little head, somehow, that in that store a coin meant a ball, though +never before nor afterward did he try to get a ball for a penny.</p> + +<p>Satan slept in Uncle Carey's room, for of all people, after Dinnie, +Satan loved Uncle Carey best. Every day at noon he would go to an +upstairs window and watch the cars come around the corner, until a very +tall, square-shouldered young man swung to the ground, and down Satan +would scamper—yelping—to meet him at the gate. If Uncle Carey, after +supper and when Dinnie was in bed, started out of the house, still in +his business clothes, Satan would leap out before him, knowing that he +too might be allowed to go; but if Uncle Carey had put on black clothes +that showed a big, dazzling shirt-front, and picked up his high hat, +Satan would sit perfectly still and look disconsolate; for as there were +no parties or theatres for Dinnie, so there were none for him. But no +matter how late it was when Uncle Carey came home, he always saw Satan's +little black nose against the window-pane and heard his bark of welcome.</p> + +<p>After intelligence, Satan's chief trait was lovableness—nobody ever +knew him to fight, to snap at anything, or to get angry; after +lovableness, it was politeness. If he wanted something to eat, if he +wanted Dinnie to go to bed, if he wanted to get out of the door, he +would beg—beg prettily on his haunches, his little red tongue out and +his funny little paws hanging loosely. Indeed, it was just because Satan +was so little less than human, I suppose, that old Satan began to be +afraid he might have a soul. So the wicked old namesake with the Hoofs +and Horns laid a trap for little Satan, and, as he is apt to do, he +began laying it early—long, indeed, before Christmas.</p> + +<p>When Dinnie started to kindergarten that autumn, Satan found that there +was one place where he could never go. Like the lamb, he could not go to +school; so while Dinnie was away, Satan began to make friends. He would +bark, "Howdy-do?" to every dog that passed his gate. Many stopped to rub +noses with him through the fence—even Hugo the mastiff, and nearly all, +indeed, except one strange-looking dog that appeared every morning at +precisely nine o'clock and took his stand on the corner. There he would +lie patiently until a funeral came along, and then Satan would see him +take his place at the head of the procession; and then he would march +out to the cemetery and back again. Nobody knew where he came from nor +where he went, and Uncle Carey called him the "funeral dog" and said he +was doubtless looking for his dead master. Satan even made friends with +a scrawny little yellow dog that followed an old drunkard around—a dog +that, when his master fell in the gutter, would go and catch a policeman +by the coat-tail, lead the officer to his helpless master, and spend the +night with him in jail.</p> + +<p>By and by Satan began to slip out of the house at night, and Uncle Billy +said he reckoned Satan had "jined de club"; and late one night, when he +had not come in, Uncle Billy told Uncle Carey that it was "powerful +slippery and he reckoned they'd better send de kerridge after him"—an +innocent remark that made Uncle Carey send a boot after the old butler, +who fled chuckling down the stairs, and left Uncle Carey chuckling in +his room.</p> + +<p>Satan had "jined de club"—the big club—and no dog was too lowly in +Satan's eyes for admission; for no priest ever preached the brotherhood +of man better than Satan lived it—both with man and dog. And thus he +lived it that Christmas night—to his sorrow.</p> + +<p>Christmas Eve had been gloomy—the gloomiest of Satan's life. Uncle +Carey had gone to a neighboring town at noon. Satan had followed him +down to the station, and when the train departed, Uncle Carey had +ordered him to go home. Satan took his time about going home, not +knowing it was Christmas Eve. He found strange things happening to dogs +that day. The truth was, that policemen were shooting all dogs found +that were without a collar and a license, and every now and then a bang +and a howl somewhere would stop Satan in his tracks. At a little yellow +house on the edge of town he saw half a dozen strange dogs in a kennel, +and every now and then a negro would lead a new one up to the house and +deliver him to a big man at the door, who, in return, would drop +something into the negro's hand. While Satan waited, the old drunkard +came along with his little dog at his heels, paused before the door, +looked a moment at his faithful follower, and went slowly on. Satan +little knew the old drunkard's temptation, for in that yellow house +kind-hearted people had offered fifteen cents for each dog brought to +them, without a license, that they might mercifully put it to death, and +fifteen cents was the precise price for a drink of good whiskey. Just +then there was another bang and another howl somewhere, and Satan +trotted home to meet a calamity. Dinnie was gone. Her mother had taken +her out in the country to Grandmother Dean's to spend Christmas, as was +the family custom, and Mrs. Dean would not wait any longer for Satan; so +she told Uncle Billy to bring him out after supper.</p> + +<p>"Ain't you 'shamed o' yo'self—suh—?" said the old butler, "keepin' me +from ketchin' Christmas gifts dis day?"</p> + +<p>Uncle Billy was indignant, for the negroes begin at four o'clock in the +afternoon of Christmas Eve to slip around corners and jump from hiding +places to shout "Christmas Gif—Christmas Gif'"; and the one who shouts +first gets a gift. No wonder it was gloomy for Satan—Uncle Carey, +Dinnie, and all gone, and not a soul but Uncle Billy in the big house. +Every few minutes he would trot on his little black legs upstairs and +downstairs, looking for his mistress. As dusk came on, he would every +now and then howl plaintively. After begging his supper, and while +Uncle Billy was hitching up a horse in the stable, Satan went out in the +yard and lay with his nose between the close panels of the fence—quite +heart-broken. When he saw his old friend, Hugo, the mastiff, trotting +into the gaslight, he began to bark his delight frantically. The big +mastiff stopped and nosed his sympathy through the fence for a moment +and walked slowly on, Satan frisking and barking along inside. At the +gate Hugo stopped, and raising one huge paw, playfully struck it. The +gate flew open, and with a happy yelp Satan leaped into the street. The +noble mastiff hesitated as though this were not quite regular. He did +not belong to the club, and he didn't know that Satan had ever been away +from home after dark in his life. For a moment he seemed to wait for +Dinnie to call him back as she always did, but this time there was no +sound, and Hugo walked majestically on, with absurd little Satan running +in a circle about him. On the way they met the "funeral dog," who +glanced inquiringly at Satan, shied from the mastiff, and trotted on. On +the next block the old drunkard's yellow cur ran across the street, and +after interchanging the compliments of the season, ran back after his +staggering master. As they approached the railroad track a strange dog +joined them, to whom Hugo paid no attention. At the crossing another +new acquaintance bounded toward them. This one—a half-breed +shepherd—was quite friendly, and he received Satan's advances with +affable condescension. Then another came and another, and little Satan's +head got quite confused. They were a queer-looking lot of curs and +half-breeds from the negro settlement at the edge of the woods, and +though Satan had little experience, his instincts told him that all was +not as it should be, and had he been human he would have wondered very +much how they had escaped the carnage that day. Uneasy, he looked around +for Hugo; but Hugo had disappeared. Once or twice Hugo had looked around +for Satan, and Satan paying no attention, the mastiff trotted on home in +disgust. Just then a powerful yellow cur sprang out of the darkness over +the railroad track, and Satan sprang to meet him, and so nearly had the +life scared out of him by the snarl and flashing fangs of the new-comer +that he hardly had the strength to shrink back behind his new friend, +the half-breed shepherd.</p> + +<p>A strange thing then happened. The other dogs became suddenly quiet, and +every eye was on the yellow cur. He sniffed the air once or twice, gave +two or three peculiar low growls, and all those dogs except Satan lost +the civilization of centuries and went back suddenly to the time when +they were wolves and were looking for a leader. The cur was Lobo for +that little pack, and after a short parley, he lifted his nose high and +started away without looking back, while the other dogs silently trotted +after him. With a mystified yelp, Satan ran after them. The cur did not +take the turnpike, but jumped the fence into a field, making his way by +the rear of houses, from which now and then another dog would slink out +and silently join the band. Every one of them Satan nosed most +friendlily, and to his great joy the funeral dog, on the edge of the +town, leaped into their midst. Ten minutes later the cur stopped in the +midst of some woods, as though he would inspect his followers. Plainly, +he disapproved of Satan, and Satan kept out of his way. Then he sprang +into the turnpike and the band trotted down it, under flying black +clouds and shifting bands of brilliant moonlight. Once, a buggy swept +past them. A familiar odor struck Satan's nose, and he stopped for a +moment to smell the horse's tracks; and right he was, too, for out at +her grandmother's Dinnie refused to be comforted, and in that buggy was +Uncle Billy going back to town after him.</p> + +<p>Snow was falling. It was a great lark for Satan. Once or twice, as he +trotted along, he had to bark his joy aloud, and each time the big cur +gave him such a fierce growl that he feared thereafter to open his +jaws. But he was happy for all that, to be running out into the night +with such a lot of funny friends and not to know or care where he was +going. He got pretty tired presently, for over hill and down hill they +went, at that unceasing trot, trot, trot! Satan's tongue began to hang +out. Once he stopped to rest, but the loneliness frightened him and he +ran on after them with his heart almost bursting. He was about to lie +right down and die, when the cur stopped, sniffed the air once or twice, +and with those same low growls, led the marauders through a rail fence +into the woods, and lay quietly down. How Satan loved that soft, thick +grass, all snowy that it was! It was almost as good as his own bed at +home. And there they lay—how long, Satan never knew, for he went to +sleep and dreamed that he was after a rat in the barn at home; and he +yelped in his sleep, which made the cur lift his big yellow head and +show his fangs. The moving of the half-breed shepherd and the funeral +dog waked him at last, and Satan got up. Half crouching, the cur was +leading the way toward the dark, still woods on top of the hill, over +which the Star of Bethlehem was lowly sinking, and under which lay a +flock of the gentle creatures that seemed to have been almost sacred to +the Lord of that Star. They were in sore need of a watchful shepherd +now. Satan was stiff and chilled, but he was rested and had had his +sleep, and he was just as ready for fun as he always was. He didn't +understand that sneaking. Why they didn't all jump and race and bark as +he wanted to, he couldn't see; but he was too polite to do otherwise +than as they did, and so he sneaked after them; and one would have +thought he knew, as well as the rest, the hellish mission on which they +were bent.</p> + +<p>Out of the woods they went, across a little branch, and there the big +cur lay flat again in the grass. A faint bleat came from the hill-side +beyond, where Satan could see another woods—and then another bleat, and +another. And the cur began to creep again, like a snake in the grass; +and the others crept too, and little Satan crept, though it was all a +sad mystery to him. Again the cur lay still, but only long enough for +Satan to see curious, fat, white shapes above him—and then, with a +blood-curdling growl, the big brute dashed forward. Oh, there was fun in +them after all! Satan barked joyfully. Those were some new +playmates—those fat, white, hairy things up there; and Satan was amazed +when, with frightened snorts, they fled in every direction. But this was +a new game, perhaps, of which he knew nothing, and as did the rest, so +did Satan. He picked out one of the white things and fled barking after +it. It was a little fellow that he was after, but little as he was, +Satan might never have caught up, had not the sheep got tangled in some +brush. Satan danced about him in mad glee, giving him a playful nip at +his wool and springing back to give him another nip, and then away +again. Plainly, he was not going to bite back, and when the sheep +struggled itself tired and sank down in a heap, Satan came close and +licked him, and as he was very warm and woolly, he lay down and snuggled +up against him for awhile, listening to the turmoil that was going on +around him. And as he listened, he got frightened.</p> + +<p>If this was a new game it was certainly a very peculiar one—the wild +rush, the bleats of terror, gasps of agony, and the fiendish growls of +attack and the sounds of ravenous gluttony. With every hair bristling, +Satan rose and sprang from the woods—and stopped with a fierce tingling +of the nerves that brought him horror and fascination. One of the white +shapes lay still before him. There was a great steaming red splotch on +the snow, and a strange odor in the air that made him dizzy; but only +for a moment. Another white shape rushed by. A tawny streak followed, +and then, in a patch of moonlight, Satan saw the yellow cur with his +teeth fastened in the throat of his moaning playmate. Like lightning +Satan sprang at the cur, who tossed him ten feet away and went back to +his awful work. Again Satan leaped, but just then a shout rose behind +him, and the cur leaped too as though a bolt of lightning had crashed +over him, and, no longer noticing Satan or sheep, began to quiver with +fright and slink away. Another shout rose from another direction—another +from another.</p> + +<p>"Drive 'em into the barn-yard!" was the cry.</p> + +<p>Now and then there was a fearful bang and a howl of death-agony, as some +dog tried to break through the encircling men, who yelled and cursed as +they closed in on the trembling brutes that slunk together and crept on; +for it is said, every sheep-killing dog knows his fate if caught, and +will make little effort to escape. With them went Satan, through the +barn-yard gate, where they huddled in a corner—a shamed and terrified +group. A tall overseer stood at the gate.</p> + +<p>"Ten of 'em!" he said grimly.</p> + +<p>He had been on the lookout for just such a tragedy, for there had +recently been a sheep-killing raid on several farms in that +neighborhood, and for several nights he had had a lantern hung out on +the edge of the woods to scare the dogs away; but a drunken farm-hand +had neglected his duty that Christmas Eve.</p> + +<p>"Yassuh, an' dey's jus' sebenteen dead sheep out dar," said a negro.</p> + +<p>"Look at the little one," said a tall boy who looked like the overseer; +and Satan knew that he spoke of him.</p> + +<p>"Go back to the house, son," said the overseer, "and tell your mother to +give you a Christmas present I got for you yesterday." With a glad whoop +the boy dashed away, and in a moment dashed back with a brand-new .32 +Winchester in his hand.</p> + +<p>The dark hour before dawn was just breaking on Christmas Day. It was the +hour when Satan usually rushed upstairs to see if his little mistress +was asleep. If he were only at home now, and if he only had known how +his little mistress was weeping for him amid her playthings and his—two +new balls and a brass-studded collar with a silver plate on which was +his name, Satan Dean; and if Dinnie could have seen him now, her heart +would have broken; for the tall boy raised his gun. There was a jet of +smoke, a sharp, clean crack, and the funeral dog started on the right +way at last toward his dead master. Another crack, and the yellow cur +leaped from the ground and fell kicking. Another crack and another, and +with each crack a dog tumbled, until little Satan sat on his haunches +amid the writhing pack, alone. His time was now come. As the rifle was +raised, he heard up at the big house the cries of children; the popping +of fire-crackers; tooting of horns and whistles and loud shouts of +"Christmas Gif', Christmas Gif'!" His little heart beat furiously. +Perhaps he knew just what he was doing; perhaps it was the accident of +habit; most likely Satan simply wanted to go home—but when that gun +rose, Satan rose too, on his haunches, his tongue out, his black eyes +steady and his funny little paws hanging loosely—and begged! The boy +lowered the gun.</p> + +<p>"Down, sir!" Satan dropped obediently, but when the gun was lifted +again, Satan rose again, and again he begged.</p> + +<p>"Down, I tell you!" This time Satan would not down, but sat begging for +his life. The boy turned.</p> + +<p>"Papa, I can't shoot that dog." Perhaps Satan had reached the stern old +overseer's heart. Perhaps he remembered suddenly that it was Christmas. +At any rate, he said gruffly:</p> + +<p>"Well, let him go."</p> + +<p>"Come here, sir!" Satan bounded toward the tall boy, frisking and +trustful and begged again.</p> + +<p>"Go home, sir!"</p> + +<p>Satan needed no second command. Without a sound he fled out the +barn-yard, and, as he swept under the front gate, a little girl ran out +of the front door of the big house and dashed down the steps, shrieking:</p> + +<p>"Saty! Saty! Oh, Saty!" But Satan never heard. On he fled, across the +crisp fields, leaped the fence and struck the road, lickety-split! for +home, while Dinnie dropped sobbing in the snow.</p> + +<p>"Hitch up a horse, quick," said Uncle Carey, rushing after Dinnie and +taking her up in his arms. Ten minutes later, Uncle Carey and Dinnie, +both warmly bundled up, were after flying Satan. They never caught him +until they reached the hill on the outskirts of town, where was the +kennel of the kind-hearted people who were giving painless death to +Satan's four-footed kind, and where they saw him stop and turn from the +road. There was divine providence in Satan's flight for one little dog +that Christmas morning; for Uncle Carey saw the old drunkard staggering +down the road without his little companion, and a moment later, both he +and Dinnie saw Satan nosing a little yellow cur between the palings. +Uncle Carey knew the little cur, and while Dinnie was shrieking for +Satan, he was saying under his breath:</p> + +<p>"Well, I swear!—I swear!—I swear!" And while the big man who came to +the door was putting Satan into Dinnie's arms, he said, sharply:</p> + +<p>"Who brought that yellow dog here?" The man pointed to the old +drunkard's figure turning a corner at the foot of the hill.</p> + +<p>"I thought so; I thought so. He sold him to you for—for a drink of +whiskey."</p> + +<p>The man whistled.</p> + +<p>"Bring him out. I'll pay his license."</p> + +<p>So back went Satan and the little cur to Grandmother Dean's—and Dinnie +cried when Uncle Carey told her why he was taking the little cur along. +With her own hands she put Satan's old collar on the little brute, took +him to the kitchen, and fed him first of all. Then she went into the +breakfast-room.</p> + +<p>"Uncle Billy," she said severely, "didn't I tell you not to let Saty +out?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Miss Dinnie," said the old butler.</p> + +<p>"Didn't I tell you I was goin' to whoop you if you let Saty out?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Miss Dinnie."</p> + +<p>Miss Dinnie pulled forth from her Christmas treasures a toy riding-whip +and the old darky's eyes began to roll in mock terror.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, Uncle Billy, but I des got to whoop you a little."</p> + +<p>"Let Uncle Billy off, Dinnie," said Uncle Carey, "this is Christmas."</p> + +<p>"All wite," said Dinnie, and she turned to Satan.</p> + +<p>In his shining new collar and innocent as a cherub, Satan sat on the +hearth begging for his breakfast.</p> + +<hr class="full"> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHRISTMAS EVE ON LONESOME AND OTHER STORIES***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 10735-h.txt or 10735-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/7/3/10735">https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/7/3/10735</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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C. Yohn, et al + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + + + + +Title: Christmas Eve on Lonesome and Other Stories + +Author: John Fox, Jr. + +Release Date: January 17, 2004 [eBook #10735] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: US-ASCII + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHRISTMAS EVE ON LONESOME AND +OTHER STORIES*** + + +E-text prepared by Juliet Sutherland, Dave Morgan, and the Project +Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + +Christmas Eve On Lonesome And Other Stories + +By John Fox, Jr. + +Illustrated By F. C. Yohn, A.I. Keller, W.A. Rogers, and H. C. Ransom + +1911 + + + + + + + + +CONTENTS + + Christmas Eve On Lonesome + + The Army Of The Callahan + + The Pardon Of Becky Day + + A Crisis For The Guard + + Christmas Night With Satan + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + Captain Wells descended with no little majesty and "biffed" him + + "Speak up, nigger!" + + Satan would drop the coin and get a ball for himself + + + + + +TO THOMAS NELSON PAGE + + + + +CHRISTMAS EVE ON LONESOME + + +It was Christmas Eve on Lonesome. But nobody on Lonesome knew that it +was Christmas Eve, although a child of the outer world could have +guessed it, even out in those wilds where Lonesome slipped from one lone +log cabin high up the steeps, down through a stretch of jungled darkness +to another lone cabin at the mouth of the stream. + +There was the holy hush in the gray twilight that comes only on +Christmas Eve. There were the big flakes of snow that fell as they never +fall except on Christmas Eve. There was a snowy man on horseback in a +big coat, and with saddle-pockets that might have been bursting with +toys for children in the little cabin at the head of the stream. + +But not even he knew that it was Christmas Eve. He was thinking of +Christmas Eve, but it was of the Christmas Eve of the year before, when +he sat in prison with a hundred other men in stripes, and listened to +the chaplain talk of peace and good will to all men upon earth, when he +had forgotten all men upon earth but one, and had only hatred in his +heart for him. + +"Vengeance is mine! saith the Lord." + +That was what the chaplain had thundered at him. And then, as now, he +thought of the enemy who had betrayed him to the law, and had sworn away +his liberty, and had robbed him of everything in life except a fierce +longing for the day when he could strike back and strike to kill. And +then, while he looked back hard into the chaplain's eyes, and now, while +he splashed through the yellow mud thinking of that Christmas Eve, Buck +shook his head; and then, as now, his sullen heart answered: + +"Mine!" + +The big flakes drifted to crotch and twig and limb. They gathered on the +brim of Buck's slouch hat, filled out the wrinkles in his big coat, +whitened his hair and his long mustache, and sifted into the yellow, +twisting path that guided his horse's feet. + +High above he could see through the whirling snow now and then the gleam +of a red star. He knew it was the light from his enemy's window; but +somehow the chaplain's voice kept ringing in his ears, and every time he +saw the light he couldn't help thinking of the story of the Star that +the chaplain told that Christmas Eve, and he dropped his eyes by and by, +so as not to see it again, and rode on until the light shone in his +face. + +Then he led his horse up a little ravine and hitched it among the snowy +holly and rhododendrons, and slipped toward the light. There was a dog +somewhere, of course; and like a thief he climbed over the low +rail-fence and stole through the tall snow-wet grass until he leaned +against an apple-tree with the sill of the window two feet above the +level of his eyes. + +Reaching above him, he caught a stout limb and dragged himself up to a +crotch of the tree. A mass of snow slipped softly to the earth. The +branch creaked above the light wind; around the corner of the house a +dog growled and he sat still. + +He had waited three long years and he had ridden two hard nights and +lain out two cold days in the woods for this. + +And presently he reached out very carefully, and noiselessly broke leaf +and branch and twig until a passage was cleared for his eye and for the +point of the pistol that was gripped in his right hand. + +A woman was just disappearing through the kitchen door, and he peered +cautiously and saw nothing but darting shadows. From one corner a shadow +loomed suddenly out in human shape. Buck saw the shadowed gesture of an +arm, and he cocked his pistol. That shadow was his man, and in a moment +he would be in a chair in the chimney corner to smoke his pipe, +maybe--his last pipe. + +Buck smiled--pure hatred made him smile--but it was mean, a mean and +sorry thing to shoot this man in the back, dog though he was; and now +that the moment had come a wave of sickening shame ran through Buck. No +one of his name had ever done that before; but this man and his people +had, and with their own lips they had framed palliation for him. What +was fair for one was fair for the other they always said. A poor man +couldn't fight money in the courts; and so they had shot from the brush, +and that was why they were rich now and Buck was poor--why his enemy was +safe at home, and he was out here, homeless, in the apple-tree. + +Buck thought of all this, but it was no use. The shadow slouched +suddenly and disappeared; and Buck was glad. With a gritting oath +between his chattering teeth he pulled his pistol in and thrust one leg +down to swing from the tree--he would meet him face to face next day and +kill him like a man--and there he hung as rigid as though the cold had +suddenly turned him, blood, bones, and marrow, into ice. + +The door had opened, and full in the firelight stood the girl who he had +heard was dead. He knew now how and why that word was sent him. And now +she who had been his sweetheart stood before him--the wife of the man he +meant to kill. + +Her lips moved--he thought he could tell what she said: "Git up, Jim, +git up!" Then she went back. + +A flame flared up within him now that must have come straight from the +devil's forge. Again the shadows played over the ceiling. His teeth +grated as he cocked his pistol, and pointed it down the beam of light +that shot into the heart of the apple-tree, and waited. + +The shadow of a head shot along the rafters and over the fireplace. It +was a madman clutching the butt of the pistol now, and as his eye caught +the glinting sight and his heart thumped, there stepped into the square +light of the window--a child! + +It was a boy with yellow tumbled hair, and he had a puppy in his arms. +In front of the fire the little fellow dropped the dog, and they began +to play. + +"Yap! yap! yap!" + +Buck could hear the shrill barking of the fat little dog, and the joyous +shrieks of the child as he made his playfellow chase his tail round and +round or tumbled him head over heels on the floor. It was the first +child Buck had seen for three years; it was _his_ child and _hers_; +and, in the apple-tree, Buck watched fixedly. + +They were down on the floor now, rolling over and over together; and he +watched them until the child grew tired and turned his face to the fire +and lay still--looking into it. Buck could see his eyes close presently, +and then the puppy crept closer, put his head on his playmate's chest, +and the two lay thus asleep. + +And still Buck looked--his clasp loosening on his pistol and his lips +loosening under his stiff mustache--and kept looking until the door +opened again and the woman crossed the floor. A flood of light flashed +suddenly on the snow, barely touching the snow-hung tips of the +apple-tree, and he saw her in the doorway--saw her look anxiously into +the darkness--look and listen a long while. + +Buck dropped noiselessly to the snow when she closed the door. He +wondered what they would think when they saw his tracks in the snow next +morning; and then he realized that they would be covered before morning. + +As he started up the ravine where his horse was he heard the clink of +metal down the road and the splash of a horse's hoofs in the soft mud, +and he sank down behind a holly-bush. + +Again the light from the cabin flashed out on the snow. + +"That you, Jim?" + +"Yep!" + +And then the child's voice: "Has oo dot thum tandy?" + +"Yep!" + +The cheery answer rang out almost at Buck's ear, and Jim passed death +waiting for him behind the bush which his left foot brushed, shaking the +snow from the red berries down on the crouching figure beneath. + +Once only, far down the dark jungled way, with the underlying streak of +yellow that was leading him whither, God only knew--once only Buck +looked back. There was the red light gleaming faintly through the +moonlit flakes of snow. Once more he thought of the Star, and once more +the chaplain's voice came back to him. + +"Mine!" saith the Lord. + +Just how, Buck could not see with himself in the snow and _him_ back +there for life with her and the child, but some strange impulse made him +bare his head. + +"Yourn," said Buck grimly. + +But nobody on Lonesome--not even Buck--knew that it was Christmas Eve. + + + + +THE ARMY OF THE CALLAHAN + + +I + +The dreaded message had come. The lank messenger, who had brought it +from over Black Mountain, dropped into a chair by the stove and sank his +teeth into a great hunk of yellow cheese. "Flitter Bill" Richmond +waddled from behind his counter, and out on the little platform in front +of his cross-roads store. Out there was a group of earth-stained +countrymen, lounging against the rickety fence or swinging on it, their +heels clear of the ground, all whittling, chewing, and talking the +matter over. All looked up at Bill, and he looked down at them, running +his eye keenly from one to another until he came to one powerful young +fellow loosely bent over a wagon-tongue. Even on him, Bill's eyes stayed +but a moment, and then were lifted higher in anxious thought. + +The message had come at last, and the man who brought it had heard it +fall from Black Tom's own lips. The "wild Jay-Hawkers of Kaintuck" were +coming over into Virginia to get Flitter Bill's store, for they were +mountain Unionists and Bill was a valley rebel and lawful prey. It was +past belief. So long had he prospered, and so well, that Bill had come +to feel that he sat safe in the hollow of God's hand. But he now must +have protection--and at once--from the hand of man. + +Roaring Fork sang lustily through the rhododendrons. To the north yawned +"the Gap" through the Cumberland Mountains. "Callahan's Nose," a huge +gray rock, showed plain in the clear air, high above the young foliage, +and under it, and on up the rocky chasm, flashed Flitter Bill's keen +mind, reaching out for help. + +Now, from Virginia to Alabama the Southern mountaineer was a Yankee, +because the national spirit of 1776, getting fresh impetus in 1812 and +new life from the Mexican War, had never died out in the hills. Most +likely it would never have died out, anyway; for, the world over, any +seed of character, individual or national, that is once dropped between +lofty summits brings forth its kind, with deathless tenacity, year after +year. Only, in the Kentucky mountains, there were more slaveholders than +elsewhere in the mountains in the South. These, naturally, fought for +their slaves, and the division thus made the war personal and terrible +between the slaveholders who dared to stay at home, and the Union, +"Home Guards" who organized to drive them away. In Bill's little +Virginia valley, of course, most of the sturdy farmers had shouldered +Confederate muskets and gone to the war. Those who had stayed at home +were, like Bill, Confederate in sympathy, but they lived in safety down +the valley, while Bill traded and fattened just opposite the Gap, +through which a wild road ran over into the wild Kentucky hills. Therein +Bill's danger lay; for, just at this time, the Harlan Home Guard under +Black Tom, having cleared those hills, were making ready, like the Pict +and Scot of olden days, to descend on the Virginia valley and smite the +lowland rebels at the mouth of the Gap. Of the "stay-at-homes," and the +deserters roundabout, there were many, very many, who would "stand in" +with any man who would keep their bellies full, but they were well-nigh +worthless even with a leader, and, without a leader, of no good at all. +Flitter Bill must find a leader for them, and anywhere than in his own +fat self, for a leader of men Bill was not born to be, nor could he see +a leader among the men before him. And so, standing there one early +morning in the spring of 1865, with uplifted gaze, it was no surprise to +him--the coincidence, indeed, became at once one of the articles of +perfect faith in his own star--that he should see afar off, a black +slouch hat and a jogging gray horse rise above a little knoll that was +in line with the mouth of the Gap. At once he crossed his hands over his +chubby stomach with a pious sigh, and at once a plan of action began to +whirl in his little round head. Before man and beast were in full view +the work was done, the hands were unclasped, and Flitter Bill, with a +chuckle, had slowly risen, and was waddling back to his desk in the +store. + +It was a pompous old buck who was bearing down on the old gray horse, +and under the slouch hat with its flapping brim--one Mayhall Wells, by +name. There were but few strands of gray in his thick blue-black hair, +though his years were rounding half a century, and he sat the old nag +with erect dignity and perfect ease. His bearded mouth showed vanity +immeasurable, and suggested a strength of will that his eyes--the real +seat of power--denied, for, while shrewd and keen, they were unsteady. +In reality, he was a great coward, though strong as an ox, and whipping +with ease every man who could force him into a fight. So that, in the +whole man, a sensitive observer would have felt a peculiar pathos, as +though nature had given him a desire to be, and no power to become, and +had then sent him on his zigzag way, never to dream wherein his trouble +lay. + +"Mornin', gentle_men_!" + +"Mornin', Mayhall!" + +All nodded and spoke except Hence Sturgill on the wagon-tongue, who +stopped whittling, and merely looked at the big man with narrowing eyes. + +Tallow Dick, a yellow slave, appeared at the corner of the store, and +the old buck beckoned him to come and hitch his horse. Flitter Bill had +reappeared on the stoop with a piece of white paper in his hand. The +lank messenger sagged in the doorway behind him, ready to start for +home. + +"Mornin' _Captain_ Wells," said Bill, with great respect. Every man +heard the title, stopped his tongue and his knife-blade, and raised his +eyes; a few smiled--Hence Sturgill grinned. Mayhall stared, and Bill's +left eye closed and opened with lightning quickness in a most portentous +wink. Mayhall straightened his shoulders--seeing the game, as did the +crowd at once: Flitter Bill was impressing that messenger in case he had +some dangerous card up his sleeve. + +"_Captain_ Wells," Bill repeated significantly, "I'm sorry to say yo' +new uniform has not arrived yet. I am expecting it to-morrow." Mayhall +toed the line with soldierly promptness. + +"Well, I'm sorry to hear that, suh--sorry to hear it, suh," he said, +with slow, measured speech. "My men are comin' in fast, and you can +hardly realize er--er what it means to an old soldier er--er not to +have--er--" And Mayhall's answering wink was portentous. + +"My friend here is from over in Kaintucky, and the Harlan Home Gyard +over there, he says, is a-making some threats." + +Mayhall laughed. + +"So I have heerd--so I have heerd." He turned to the messenger. "We +shall be ready fer 'em, suh, ready fer 'em with a thousand men--one +thousand men, suh, right hyeh in the Gap--right hyeh in the Gap. Let 'em +come on--let 'em come on!" Mayhall began to rub his hands together as +though the conflict were close at hand, and the mountaineer slapped one +thigh heartily. "Good for you! Give 'em hell!" He was about to slap +Mayhall on the shoulder and call him "pardner," when Flitter Bill +coughed, and Mayhall lifted his chin. + +"Captain Wells?" said Bill. + +"Captain Wells," repeated Mayhall with a stiff salutation, and the +messenger from over Black Mountain fell back with an apologetic laugh. A +few minutes later both Mayhall and Flitter Bill saw him shaking his +head, as he started homeward toward the Gap. Bill laughed silently, but +Mayhall had grown grave. The fun was over and he beckoned Bill inside +the store. + +"Misto Richmond," he said, with hesitancy and an entire change of tone +and manner, "I am afeerd I ain't goin' to be able to pay you that little +amount I owe you, but if you can give me a little mo' time--" + +"Captain Wells," interrupted Bill slowly, and again Mayhall stared hard +at him, "as betwixt friends, as have been pussonal friends fer nigh onto +twenty year, I hope you won't mention that little matter to me +ag'in--until I mentions it to you." + +"But, Misto Richmond, Hence Sturgill out thar says as how he heerd you +say that if I didn't pay--" + +"_Captain_ Wells," interrupted Bill again and again Mayhall stared +hard--it was strange that Bill could have formed the habit of calling +him "Captain" in so short a time--"yestiddy is not to-day, is it? And +to-day is not to-morrow? I axe you--have I said one word about that +little matter _to-day?_ Well, borrow not from yestiddy nor to-morrow, to +make trouble fer to-day. There is other things fer to-day, Captain +Wells." + +Mayhall turned here. + +"Misto Richmond," he said, with great earnestness, "you may not know it, +but three times since thet long-legged jay-hawker's been gone you hev +plainly--and if my ears do not deceive me, an' they never hev--you have +plainly called me '_Captain_ Wells.' I knowed yo' little trick whilst he +was hyeh, fer I knowed whut the feller had come to tell ye; but since +he's been gone, three times, Misto Richmond--" + +"Yes," drawled Bill, with an unction that was strangely sweet to +Mayhall's wondering ears, "an' I do it ag'in, _Captain_ Wells." + +"An' may I axe you," said Mayhall, ruffling a little, "may I axe +you--why you--" + +"Certainly," said Bill, and he handed over the paper that he held in his +hand. + +Mayhall took the paper and looked it up and down helplessly--Flitter +Bill slyly watching him. + +Mayhall handed it back. "If you please, Misto Richmond--I left my specs +at home." Without a smile, Bill began. It was an order from the +commandant at Cumberland Gap, sixty miles farther down Powell's Valley, +authorizing Mayhall Wells to form a company to guard the Gap and to +protect the property of Confederate citizens in the valley; and a +commission of captaincy in the said company for the said Mayhall Wells. +Mayhall's mouth widened to the full stretch of his lean jaws, and, when +Bill was through reading, he silently reached for the paper and looked +it up and down and over and over, muttering: + +"Well--well--well!" And then he pointed silently to the name that was at +the bottom of the paper. + +Bill spelled out the name: + +"_Jefferson Davis_" and Mayhall's big fingers trembled as he pulled them +away, as though to avoid further desecration of that sacred name. + +Then he rose, and a magical transformation began that can be likened--I +speak with reverence--to the turning of water into wine. Captain Mayhall +Wells raised his head, set his chin well in, and kept it there. He +straightened his shoulders, and kept them straight. He paced the floor +with a tread that was martial, and once he stopped before the door with +his right hand thrust under his breast-pocket, and with wrinkling brow +studied the hills. It was a new man--with the water in his blood changed +to wine--who turned suddenly on Flitter Bill Richmond: + +"I can collect a vehy large force in a vehy few days." Flitter Bill knew +that--that he could get together every loafer between the county-seat of +Wise and the county-seat of Lee--but he only said encouragingly: + +"Good!" + +"An' we air to pertect the property--_I_ am to pertect the property of +the Confederate citizens of the valley--that means _you_, Misto +Richmond, and _this store_." + +Bill nodded. + +Mayhall coughed slightly. "There is one thing in the way, I opine. +Whar--I axe you--air we to git somethin' to eat fer my command?" Bill +had anticipated this. + +"I'll take keer o' that." + +Captain Wells rubbed his hands. + +"Of co'se, of co'se--you are a soldier and a patriot--you can afford to +feed 'em as a slight return fer the pertection I shall give you and +yourn." + +"Certainly," agreed Bill dryly, and with a prophetic stir of uneasiness. + +"Vehy--vehy well. I shall begin _now_, Misto Richmond." And, to Flitter +Bill's wonder, the captain stalked out to the stoop, announced his +purpose with the voice of an auctioneer, and called for volunteers then +and there. There was dead silence for a moment. Then there was a smile +here, a chuckle there, an incredulous laugh, and Hence Sturgill, "bully +of the Pocket," rose from the wagon-tongue, closed his knife, came +slowly forward, and cackled his scorn straight up into the teeth of +Captain Mayhall Wells. The captain looked down and began to shed his +coat. + +"I take it, Hence Sturgill, that you air laughin' at me?" + +"I am a-laughin' at _you_, Mayhall Wells," he said, contemptuously, but +he was surprised at the look on the good-natured giant's face. + +"_Captain_ Mayhall Wells, ef you please." + +"Plain ole Mayhall Wells," said Hence, and Captain Wells descended with +no little majesty and "biffed" him. + +The delighted crowd rose to its feet and gathered around. Tallow Dick +came running from the barn. It was biff--biff, and biff again, but not +nip and tuck for long. Captain Mayhall closed in. Hence Sturgill struck +the earth like a Homeric pine, and the captain's mighty arm played above +him and fell, resounding. In three minutes Hence, to the amazement of +the crowd, roared: + +"'Nough!" + +But Mayhall breathed hard and said quietly: + +"_Captain_ Wells!": + +Hence shouted, "Plain ole--" But the captain's huge fist was poised in +the air over his face. + +"Captain Wells," he growled, and the captain rose and calmly put on his +coat, while the crowd looked respectful, and Hence Sturgill staggered to +one side, as though beaten in spirit, strength, and wits as well. The +captain beckoned Flitter Bill inside the store. His manner had a +distinct savor of patronage. + +[Illustration: Captain Wells descended with no little majesty and +"biffed" him.] + +"Misto Richmond," he said, "I make you--I appoint you, by the authority +of Jefferson Davis and the Confederate States of Ameriky, as +commissary-gineral of the Army of the Callahan." + +"As _what_?" Bill's eyes blinked at the astounding dignity of his +commission. + +"Gineral Richmond, I shall not repeat them words." And he didn't, but +rose and made his way toward his old gray mare. Tallow Dick held his +bridle. + +"Dick," he said jocosely, "goin' to run away ag'in?" The negro almost +paled, and then, with a look at a blacksnake whip that hung on the barn +door, grinned. + +"No, suh--no, suh--'deed I ain't, suh--no mo'." + +Mounted, the captain dropped a three-cent silver piece in the startled +negro's hand. Then he vouchsafed the wondering Flitter Bill and the +gaping crowd a military salute and started for the yawning mouth of the +Gap--riding with shoulders squared and chin well in--riding as should +ride the commander of the Army of the Callahan. + +Flitter Bill dropped his blinking eyes to the paper in his hand that +bore the commission of Jefferson Davis and the Confederate States of +America to Mayhall Wells of Callahan, and went back into his store. He +looked at it a long time and then he laughed, but without much mirth. + + + +II + +Grass had little chance to grow for three weeks thereafter under the +cowhide boots of Captain Mayhall Wells. When the twentieth morning came +over the hills, the mist parted over the Stars and Bars floating from +the top of a tall poplar up through the Gap and flaunting brave defiance +to Black Tom, his Harlan Home Guard, and all other jay-hawking Unionists +of the Kentucky hills. It parted over the Army of the Callahan asleep on +its arms in the mouth of the chasm, over Flitter Bill sitting, sullen +and dejected, on the stoop of his store; and over Tallow Dick stealing +corn bread from the kitchen to make ready for flight that night through +the Gap, the mountains, and to the yellow river that was the Mecca of +the runaway slave. + +At the mouth of the Gap a ragged private stood before a ragged tent, +raised a long dinner horn to his lips, and a mighty blast rang through +the hills, reveille! And out poured the Army of the Callahan from shack, +rock-cave, and coverts of sticks and leaves, with squirrel rifles, +Revolutionary muskets, shotguns, clasp-knives, and horse pistols for +the duties of the day under Lieutenant Skaggs, tactician, and Lieutenant +Boggs, quondam terror of Roaring Fork. + +That blast rang down the valley into Flitter Bill's ears and startled +him into action. It brought Tallow Dick's head out of the barn door and +made him grin. + +"Dick!" Flitter Bill's call was sharp and angry. + +"Yes, suh!" + +"Go tell ole Mayhall Wells that I ain't goin' to send him nary another +pound o' bacon an' nary another tin cup o' meal--no, by ----, I ain't." + +Half an hour later the negro stood before the ragged tent of the +commander of the Army of the Callahan. + +"Marse Bill say he ain't gwine to sen' you no mo' rations--no mo'." + +"_What_!" + +Tallow Dick repeated his message and the captain scowled--mutiny! + +"Fetch my hoss!" he thundered. + +Very naturally and very swiftly had the trouble come, for straight after +the captain's fight with Hence Sturgill there had been a mighty rally to +the standard of Mayhall Wells. From Pigeon's Creek the loafers +came--from Roaring Fork, Cracker's Neck, from the Pocket down the +valley, and from Turkey Cove. Recruits came so fast, and to such +proportions grew the Army of the Callahan, that Flitter Bill shrewdly +suggested at once that Captain Wells divide it into three companies and +put one up Pigeon's Creek under Lieutenant Jim Skaggs and one on +Callahan under Lieutenant Tom Boggs, while the captain, with a third, +should guard the mouth of the Gap. Bill's idea was to share with those +districts the honor of his commissary-generalship; but Captain Wells +crushed the plan like a dried puffball. + +"Yes," he said, with fine sarcasm. "What will them Kanetuckians do then? +Don't you know, Gineral Richmond? Why, I'll tell you what they'll do. +They'll jest swoop down on Lieutenant Boggs and gobble him up. Then +they'll swoop down on Lieutenant Skaggs on Pigeon and gobble him up. +Then they'll swoop down on me and gobble me up. No, they won't gobble +_me_ up, but they'll come damn nigh it. An' what kind of a report will I +make to Jeff Davis, Gineral Richmond? _Captured In detail_, suh? No, +suh. I'll jest keep Lieutenant Boggs and Lieutenant Skaggs close by me, +and we'll pitch our camp right here in the Gap whar we can pertect the +property of Confederate citizens and be close to our base o' supplies, +suh. That's what I'll do!" + +"Gineral Richmond" groaned, and when in the next breath the mighty +captain casually inquired if _that uniform of his_ had come yet, Flitter +Bill's fat body nearly rolled off his chair. + +"You will please have it here next Monday," said the captain, with great +firmness. "It is necessary to the proper discipline of my troops." And +it was there the following Monday--a regimental coat, gray jeans +trousers, and a forage cap that Bill purchased from a passing Morgan +raider. Daily orders would come from Captain Wells to General Flitter +Bill Richmond to send up more rations, and Bill groaned afresh when a +man from Callahan told how the captain's family was sprucing up on meal +and flour and bacon from the captain's camp. Humiliation followed. It +had never occurred to Captain Wells that being a captain made it +incongruous for him to have a "general" under him, until Lieutenant +Skaggs, who had picked up a manual of tactics somewhere, cautiously +communicated his discovery. Captain Wells saw the point at once. There +was but one thing to do--to reduce General Richmond to the ranks--and it +was done. Technically, thereafter, the general was purveyor for the Army +of the Callahan, but to the captain himself he was--gallingly to the +purveyor--simple Flitter Bill. + +The strange thing was that, contrary to his usual shrewdness, it should +have taken Flitter Bill so long to see that the difference between +having his store robbed by the Kentucky jay-hawkers and looted by +Captain Wells was the difference between tweedle-dum and tweedle-dee, +but, when he did see, he forged a plan of relief at once. When the +captain sent down Lieutenant Boggs for a supply of rations, Bill sent +the saltiest, rankest bacon he could find, with a message that he wanted +to see the great man. As before, when Captain Wells rode down to the +store, Bill handed out a piece of paper, and, as before, the captain had +left his "specs" at home. The paper was an order that, whereas the +distinguished services of Captain Wells to the Confederacy were +appreciated by Jefferson Davis, the said Captain Wells was, and is, +hereby empowered to duly, and in accordance with the tactics of war, +impress what live-stock he shall see fit and determine fit for the good +of his command. The news was joy to the Army of the Callahan. Before it +had gone the rounds of the camp Lieutenant Boggs had spied a fat heifer +browsing on the edge of the woods and ordered her surrounded and driven +down. Without another word, when she was close enough, he raised his +gun and would have shot her dead in her tracks had he not been arrested +by a yell of command and horror from his superior. + +"Air you a-goin' to have me cashiered and shot, Lieutenant Boggs, fer +violatin' the ticktacks of war?" roared the captain, indignantly. "Don't +you know that I've got to _impress_ that heifer accordin' to the rules +an' regulations? Git roun' that heifer." The men surrounded her. "Take +her by the horns. Now! In the name of Jefferson Davis and the +Confederate States of Ameriky, I hereby and hereon do duly impress this +heifer for the purposes and use of the Army of the Callahan, so help me +God! Shoot her down, Bill Boggs, shoot her down!" + +Now, naturally, the soldiers preferred fresh meat, and they got +it--impressing cattle, sheep, and hogs, geese, chickens, and ducks, +vegetables--nothing escaped the capacious maw of the Army of the +Callahan. It was a beautiful idea, and the success of it pleased Flitter +Bill mightily, but the relief did not last long. An indignant murmur +rose up and down valley and creek bottom against the outrages, and one +angry old farmer took a pot-shot at Captain Wells with a squirrel rifle, +clipping the visor of his forage cap; and from that day the captain +began to call with immutable regularity again on Flitter Bill for bacon +and meal. That morning the last straw fell in a demand for a wagon-load +of rations to be delivered before noon, and, worn to the edge of his +patience, Bill had sent a reckless refusal. And now he was waiting on +the stoop of his store, looking at the mouth of the Gap and waiting for +it to give out into the valley Captain Wells and his old gray mare. And +at last, late in the afternoon, there was the captain coming--coming at +a swift gallop--and Bill steeled himself for the onslaught like a knight +in a joust against a charging antagonist. The captain saluted +stiffly--pulling up sharply and making no move to dismount. + +"Purveyor," he said, "Black Tom has just sent word that he's a-comin' +over hyeh this week--have you heerd that, purveyor?" Bill was silent. + +"Black Tom says you _air_ responsible for the Army of the Callahan. Have +you heerd that, purveyor?" Still was there silence. + +"He says he's a-goin' to hang me to that poplar whar floats them Stars +and Bars"--Captain Mayhall Wells chuckled--"an' he says he's a-goin' to +hang _you_ thar fust, though; have you heerd _that_, purveyor?" + +The captain dropped the titular address now, and threw one leg over the +pommel of his saddle. + +"Flitter Bill Richmond," he said, with great nonchalance, "I axe you--do +you prefer that I should disband the Army of the Callahan, or do you +not?" + +"No." + +The captain was silent a full minute, and his face grew stern. "Flitter +Bill Richmond, I had no idee o' disbandin' the Army of the Callahan, but +do you know what I did aim to do?" Again Bill was silent. + +"Well, suh, I'll tell you whut I aim to do. If you don't send them +rations I'll have you cashiered for mutiny, an' if Black Tom don't hang +you to that air poplar, I'll hang you thar myself, suh; yes, by ----! I +will. Dick!" he called sharply to the slave. "Hitch up that air wagon, +fill hit full o' bacon and meal, and drive it up thar to my tent. An' be +mighty damn quick about it, or I'll hang you, too." + +The negro gave a swift glance to his master, and Flitter Bill feebly +waved acquiescence. + +"Purveyor, I wish you good-day." + +Bill gazed after the great captain in dazed wonder (was this the man who +had come cringing to him only a few short weeks ago?) and groaned aloud. + +But for lucky or unlucky coincidence, how could the prophet ever have +gained name and fame on earth? + +Captain Wells rode back to camp chuckling--chuckling with satisfaction +and pride; but the chuckle passed when he caught sight of his tent. In +front of it were his lieutenants and some half a dozen privates, all +plainly in great agitation, and in the midst of them stood the lank +messenger who had brought the first message from Black Tom, delivering +another from the same source. Black Tom _was_ coming, coming surer and +unless that flag, that "Rebel rag," were hauled down under twenty-four +hours, Black Tom would come over and pull it down, and to that same +poplar hang "Captain Mayhall an' his whole damn army." Black Tom might +do it anyhow--just for fun. + +While the privates listened the captain strutted and swore; then he +rested his hand on his hip and smiled with silent sarcasm, and then +swore again--while the respectful lieutenants and the awed soldiery of +the Callahan looked on. Finally he spoke. + +"Ah--when did Black Tom say that?" he inquired casually. + +"Yestiddy mornin'. He said he was goin' to start over hyeh early this +mornin'." The captain whirled. + +"What? Then why didn't you git over hyeh _this_ mornin'?" + +"Couldn't git across the river last night." + +"Then he's a-comin' to-day?" + +"I reckon Black Tom'll be hyeh in about two hours--mebbe he ain't fer +away now." The captain was startled. + +"Lieutenant Skaggs," he called, sharply, "git yo' men out thar an' draw +'em up in two rows!" + +The face of the student of military tactics looked horrified. The +captain in his excitement had relaxed into language that was distinctly +agricultural, and, catching the look on his subordinate's face, and at +the same time the reason for it, he roared, indignantly: + +"Air you afeer'd, sir? Git yo' men out, I said, an' march 'em up thar in +front of the Gap. Lieutenant Boggs, take ten men and march at double +quick through the Gap, an' defend that poplar with yo' life's blood. If +you air overwhelmed by superior numbers, fall back, suh, step by step, +until you air re-enforced by Lieutenant Skaggs. If you two air not able +to hold the enemy in check, you may count on me an' the Army of the +Callahan to grind _him_--" (How the captain, now thoroughly aroused to +all the fine terms of war, did roll that technical "him" under his +tongue)--"to grind him to pieces ag'in them towerin' rocks, and plunge +him in the foilin' waters of Roarin' Fawk. Forward, suh--double quick." +Lieutenant Skaggs touched his cap. Lieutenant Boggs looked embarrassed +and strode nearer. + +"Captain, whar am I goin' to git ten men to face them Kanetuckians?" + +"Whar air they goin' to git a off'cer to lead 'em, you'd better say," +said the captain, severely, fearing that some of the soldiers had heard +the question. "If you air afeer'd, suh"--and then he saw that no one had +heard, and he winked--winked with most unmilitary familiarity. + +"Air you a good climber, Lieutenant Boggs?" Lieutenant Boggs looked +mystified, but he said he was. + +"Lieutenant Boggs, I now give you the opportunity to show yo' profound +knowledge of the ticktacks of war. You may now be guilty of disobedience +of ordahs, and I will not have you court-martialled for the same. In +other words, if, after a survey of the situation, you think best--why," +the captain's voice dropped to a hoarse whisper, "pull that flag down, +lieutenant Boggs, pull her down." + + + +III + +It was an hour by sun now. Lieutenant Boggs and his devoted band of ten +were making their way slowly and watchfully up the mighty chasm--the +lieutenant with his hand on his sword and his head bare, and bowed in +thought. The Kentuckians were on their way--at that moment they might be +riding full speed toward the mouth of Pigeon, where floated the flag. +They might gobble him and his command up when they emerged from the Gap. +Suppose they caught him up that tree. His command might escape, but _he_ +would be up there, saving them the trouble of stringing him up. All they +would have to do would be to send up after him a man with a rope, and +let him drop. That was enough. Lieutenant Boggs called a halt and +explained the real purpose of the expedition. + +"We will wait here till dark," he said, "so them Kanetuckians can't +ketch us, whilst we are climbing that tree." + +And so they waited opposite Bee Rock, which was making ready to blossom +with purple rhododendrons. And the reserve back in the Gap, under +Lieutenant Skaggs, waited. Waited, too, the Army of the Callahan at the +mouth of the Gap, and waited restlessly Captain Wells at the door of his +tent, and Flitter Bill on the stoop of his store--waited everybody but +Tallow Dick, who, in the general confusion, was slipping through the +rhododendrons along the bank of Roaring Fork, until he could climb the +mountain-side and slip through the Gap high over the army's head. + +What could have happened? + +When dusk was falling, Captain Wells dispatched a messenger to +Lieutenant Skaggs and his reserve, and got an answer; Lieutenant Skaggs +feared that Boggs had been captured without the firing of a single +shot--but the flag was floating still. An hour later, Lieutenant Skaggs +sent another message--he could not see the flag. Captain Wells answered, +stoutly: + +"Hold yo' own." + +And so, as darkness fell, the Army of the Callahan waited in the strain +of mortal expectancy as one man; and Flitter Bill waited, with his horse +standing saddled in the barn, ready for swift flight. And, as darkness +fell, Tallow Dick was cautiously picking his way alongside the steep +wall of the Gap toward freedom, and picking it with stealthy caution, +foot by foot; for up there, to this day, big loose rocks mount halfway +to the jagged points of the black cliffs, and a careless step would have +detached one and sent an avalanche of rumbling stones down to betray +him. A single shot rang suddenly out far up through the Gap, and the +startled negro sprang forward, slipped, and, with a low, frightened +oath, lay still. Another shot followed, and another. Then a hoarse +murmur rose, loudened into thunder, and ended in a frightful--boom! One +yell rang from the army's throat: + +"The Kentuckians! The Kentuckians! The wild, long-haired, terrible +Kentuckians!" + +Captain Wells sprang into the air. + +"My God, they've got a cannon!" + +Then there was a martial chorus--the crack of rifle, the hoarse cough of +horse-pistol, the roar of old muskets. + +"Bing! Bang! Boom! Bing--bing! Bang--bang! Boom--boom! +Bing--bang--boom!" + +Lieutenant Skaggs and his reserves heard the beat of running feet down +the Gap. + +"They've gobbled Boggs," he said, and the reserve rushed after him as he +fled. The army heard the beat of their coming feet. + +"They've gobbled Skaggs," the army said. + +Then was there bedlam as the army fled--a crashing through bushes--a +splashing into the river, the rumble of mule wagons, yells of terror, +swift flying shapes through the pale moonlight. Flitter Bill heard the +din as he stood by his barn door. + +"They've gobbled the army," said Flitter Bill, and he, too, fled like a +shadow down the valley. + +Nature never explodes such wild and senseless energy as when she lets +loose a mob in a panic. With the army, it was each man for himself and +devil take the hindmost; and the flight of the army was like a flight +from the very devil himself. Lieutenant Boggs, whose feet were the +swiftest in the hills, outstripped his devoted band. Lieutenant Skaggs, +being fat and slow, fell far behind his reserve, and dropped exhausted +on a rock for a moment to get his breath. As he rose, panting, to resume +flight, a figure bounded out of the darkness behind him, and he gathered +it in silently and went with it to the ground, where both fought +silently in the dust until they rolled into the moonlight and each +looked the other in the face. + +"That you, Jim Skaggs?" + +"That you, Tom Boggs?" + +Then the two lieutenants rose swiftly, but a third shape bounded into +the road--a gigantic figure--Black Tom! With a startled yell they +gathered him in--one by the waist, the other about the neck, and, for a +moment, the terrible Kentuckian--it could be none other--swung the two +clear of the ground, but the doughty lieutenants hung to him. Boggs +trying to get his knife and Skaggs his pistol, and all went down in a +heap. + +"I surrender--I surrender!" It was the giant who spoke, and at the sound +of his voice both men ceased to struggle, and, strange to say, no one of +the three laughed. + +"Lieutenant Boggs," said Captain Wells, thickly, "take yo' thumb out o' +my mouth. Lieutenant Skaggs, leggo my leg an' stop bitin' me." + +"Sh--sh--sh--" said all three. + +The faint swish of bushes as Lieutenant Boggs's ten men scuttled into +the brush behind them--the distant beat of the army's feet getting +fainter ahead of them, and then silence--dead, dead silence. + +"Sh--sh--sh!" + +With the red streaks of dawn Captain Mayhall Wells was pacing up and +down in front of Flitter Bill's store, a gaping crowd about him, and the +shattered remnants of the army drawn up along Roaring Fork in the rear. +An hour later Flitter Bill rode calmly in. + +"I stayed all night down the valley," said Flitter Bill. "Uncle Jim +Richmond was sick. I hear you had some trouble last night, Captain +Wells." The captain expanded his chest. + +"Trouble!" he repeated, sarcastically. And then he told how a charging +horde of daredevils had driven him from camp with overwhelming numbers +and one piece of artillery; how he had rallied the army and fought them +back, foot by foot, and put them to fearful rout; how the army had +fallen back again just when the Kentuckians were running like sheep, and +how he himself had stayed in the rear with Lieutenant Boggs and +Lieutenant Skaggs, "to cover their retreat, suh," and how the purveyor, +if he would just go up through the Gap, would doubtless find the cannon +that the enemy had left behind in their flight. It was just while he was +thus telling the tale for the twentieth time that two figures appeared +over the brow of the hill and drew near--Hence Sturgill on horseback and +Tallow Dick on foot. + +"I ketched this nigger in my corn-fiel' this mornin'," said Hence, +simply, and Flitter Bill glared, and without a word went for the +blacksnake ox-whip that hung by the barn door. + +For the twenty-first time Captain Wells started his tale again, and with +every pause that he made for breath Hence cackled scorn. + +"An', Hence Sturgill, ef you will jus' go up in the Gap you'll find a +cannon, captured, suh, by me an' the Army of the Callahan, an'--" + +"Cannon!" Hence broke in. "Speak up, nigger!" And Tallow Dick spoke +up--grinning: + +"I done it!" + +"What!" shouted Flitter Bill. + +"I kicked a rock loose climbin' over Callahan's Nose." + +Bill dropped his whip with a chuckle of pure ecstasy. Mayhall paled and +stared. The crowd roared, the Army of the Callahan grinned, and Hence +climbed back on his horse. + +"Mayhall Wells," he said, "plain ole Mayhall Wells, I'll see you on +Couht Day. I ain't got time now." + +And he rode away. + +[Illustration: "Speak up, nigger."] + + + +IV + +That day Captain Mayhall Wells and the Army of the Callahan were in +disrepute. Next day the awful news of Lee's surrender came. Captain +Wells refused to believe it, and still made heroic effort to keep his +shattered command together. Looking for recruits on Court Day, he was +twitted about the rout of the army by Hence Sturgill, whose long-coveted +chance to redeem himself had come. Again, as several times before, the +captain declined to fight--his health was essential to the general +well-being--but Hence laughed in his face, and the captain had to face +the music, though the heart of him was gone. + +He fought well, for he was fighting for his all, and he knew it. He +could have whipped with ease, and he did whip, but the spirit of the +thoroughbred was not in Captain Mayhall Wells. He had Sturgill down, but +Hence sank his teeth into Mayhall's thigh while Mayhall's hands grasped +his opponent's throat. The captain had only to squeeze, as every +rough-and-tumble fighter knew, and endure his pain until Hence would +have to give in. But Mayhall was not built to endure. He roared like a +bull as soon as the teeth met in his flesh, his fingers relaxed, and to +the disgusted surprise of everybody he began to roar with great +distinctness and agony: + +"'Nough! 'Nough!" + +The end was come, and nobody knew it better than Mayhall Wells. He rode +home that night with hands folded on the pommel of his saddle and his +beard crushed by his chin against his breast. For the last time, next +morning he rode down to Flitter Bill's store. On the way he met Parson +Kilburn and for the last time Mayhall Wells straightened his shoulders +and for one moment more resumed his part: perhaps the parson had not +heard of his fall. + +"Good-mornin', parsing," he said, pleasantly. "Ah--where have you been?" +The parson was returning from Cumberland Gap, whither he had gone to +take the oath of allegiance. + +"By the way, I have something here for you which Flitter Bill asked me +to give you. He said it was from the commandant at Cumberland Gap." + +"Fer me?" asked the captain--hope springing anew in his heart. The +parson handed him a letter. Mayhall looked at it upside down. + +"If you please, parsing," he said, handing it back, "I hev left my +specs at home." + +The parson read that, whereas Captain Wells had been guilty of grave +misdemeanors while in command of the Army of the Callahan, he should be +arrested and court-martialled for the same, or be given the privilege of +leaving the county in twenty-four hours. Mayhall's face paled a little +and he stroked his beard. + +"Ah--does anybody but you know about this ordah, parsing?" + +"Nobody." + +"Well, if you will do me the great favor, parsing, of not mentioning it +to nary a living soul--as fer me and my ole gray hoss and my household +furniture--we'll be in Kanetuck afore daybreak to-morrow mornin'!" And +he was. + +But he rode on just then and presented himself for the last time at the +store of Flitter Bill. Bill was sitting on the stoop in his favorite +posture. And in a moment there stood before him plain Mayhall +Wells--holding out the order Bill had given the parson that day. + +"Misto Richmond," he said, "I have come to tell you good-by." + +Now just above the selfish layers of fat under Flitter Bill's chubby +hands was a very kind heart. When he saw Mayhall's old manner and heard +the old respectful way of address, and felt the dazed helplessness of +the big, beaten man, the heart thumped. + +"I am sorry about that little amount I owe you; I think I'll be able +shortly--" But Bill cut him short. Mayhall Wells, beaten, disgraced, +driven from home on charge of petty crimes, of which he was undoubtedly +guilty, but for which Bill knew he himself was responsible--Mayhall on +his way into exile and still persuading himself and, at that moment, +almost persuading him that he meant to pay that little debt of long +ago--was too much for Flitter Bill, and he proceeded to lie--lying with +deliberation and pleasure. + +"Captain Wells," he said--and the emphasis on the title was balm to +Mayhall's soul--"you have protected me in time of war, an' you air +welcome to yo' uniform an' you air welcome to that little debt. Yes," he +went on, reaching down into his pocket and pulling out a roll of bills, +"I tender you in payment for that same protection the regular pay of a +officer in the Confederate service"--and he handed out the army pay for +three months in Confederate greenbacks--"an' five dollars in money of +the United States, of which I an', doubtless, you, suh, air true and +loyal citizens. Captain Wells, I bid you good-by an' I wish ye well--I +wish ye well." + +From the stoop of his store Bill watched the captain ride away, +drooping at the shoulders, and with his hands folded on the pommel of +his saddle--his dim blue eyes misty, the jaunty forage cap a mockery of +his iron-gray hair, and the flaps of his coat fanning either side like +mournful wings. + +And Flitter Bill muttered to himself: + +"Atter he's gone long enough fer these things to blow over, I'm going to +bring him back and give him another chance--yes, damme if I don't git +him back." + +And Bill dropped his remorseful eye to the order in his hand. Like the +handwriting of the order that lifted Mayhall like magic into power, the +handwriting of this order, that dropped him like a stone--was Flitter +Bill's own. + + + + +THE PARDON OF BECKY DAY + + +The missionary was young and she was from the North. Her brows were +straight, her nose was rather high, and her eyes were clear and gray. +The upper lip of her little mouth was so short that the teeth just under +it were never quite concealed. It was the mouth of a child and it gave +the face, with all its strength and high purpose, a peculiar pathos that +no soul in that little mountain town had the power to see or feel. A +yellow mule was hitched to the rickety fence in front of her and she +stood on the stoop of a little white frame-house with an elm switch +between her teeth and gloves on her hands, which were white and looked +strong. The mule wore a man's saddle, but no matter--the streets were +full of yellow pools, the mud was ankle-deep, and she was on her way to +the sick-bed of Becky Day. + +There was a flood that morning. All the preceding day the rains had +drenched the high slopes unceasingly. That night, the rain-clear forks +of the Kentucky got yellow and rose high, and now they crashed together +around the town and, after a heaving conflict, started the river on one +quivering, majestic sweep to the sea. + +Nobody gave heed that the girl rode a mule or that the saddle was not +her own, and both facts she herself quickly forgot. This half log, half +frame house on a corner had stood a siege once. She could yet see bullet +holes about the door. Through this window, a revenue officer from the +Blue Grass had got a bullet in the shoulder from a garden in the rear. +Standing in the post-office door only just one month before, she herself +had seen children scurrying like rabbits through the back-yard fences, +men running silently here and there, men dodging into doorways, fire +flashing in the street and from every house--and not a sound but the +crack of pistol and Winchester; for the mountain men deal death in all +the terrible silence of death. And now a preacher with a long scar +across his forehead had come to the one little church in the place and +the fervor of religion was struggling with feudal hate for possession of +the town. To the girl, who saw a symbol in every mood of the earth, the +passions of these primitive people were like the treacherous streams of +the uplands--now quiet as sunny skies and now clashing together with but +little less fury and with much more noise. And the roar of the flood +above the wind that late afternoon was the wrath of the Father, that +with the peace of the Son so long on earth, such things still could be. +Once more trouble was threatening and that day even she knew that +trouble might come, but she rode without fear, for she went when and +where she pleased as any woman can, throughout the Cumberland, without +insult or harm. + +At the end of the street were two houses that seemed to front each other +with unmistakable enmity. In them were two men who had wounded each +other only the day before, and who that day would lead the factions, if +the old feud broke loose again. One house was close to the frothing hem +of the flood--a log-hut with a shed of rough boards for a kitchen--the +home of Becky Day. + +The other was across the way and was framed and smartly painted. On the +steps sat a woman with her head bare and her hands under her +apron--widow of the Marcum whose death from a bullet one month before +had broken the long truce of the feud. A groaning curse was growled from +the window as the girl drew near, and she knew it came from a wounded +Marcum who had lately come back from the West to avenge his brother's +death. + +"Why don't you go over to see your neighbor?" The girl's clear eyes gave +no hint that she knew--as she well did--the trouble between the houses, +and the widow stared in sheer amazement, for mountaineers do not talk +with strangers of the quarrels between them. + +"I have nothin' to do with such as her," she said, sullenly; "she ain't +the kind--" + +"Don't!" said the girl, with a flush, "she's dying." + +"_Dyin?_" + +"Yes." With the word the girl sprang from the mule and threw the reins +over the pale of the fence in front of the log-hut across the way. In +the doorway she turned as though she would speak to the woman on the +steps again, but a tall man with a black beard appeared in the low door +of the kitchen-shed. + +"How is your--how is Mrs. Day?" + +"Mighty puny this mornin'--Becky is." + +The girl slipped into the dark room. On a disordered, pillowless bed lay +a white face with eyes closed and mouth slightly open. Near the bed was +a low wood fire. On the hearth were several thick cups filled with herbs +and heavy fluids and covered with tarpaulin, for Becky's "man" was a +teamster. With a few touches of the girl's quick hands, the covers of +the bed were smooth, and the woman's eyes rested on the girl's own +cloak. With her own handkerchief she brushed the death-damp from the +forehead that already seemed growing cold. At her first touch, the +woman's eyelids opened and dropped together again. Her lips moved, but +no sound came from them. + +In a moment the ashes disappeared, the hearth was clean and the fire was +blazing. Every time the girl passed the window she saw the widow across +the way staring hard at the hut. When she took the ashes into the +street, the woman spoke to her. + +"I can't go to see Becky--she hates me." + +"With good reason." + +The answer came with a clear sharpness that made the widow start and +redden angrily; but the girl walked straight to the gate, her eyes +ablaze with all the courage that the mountain woman knew and yet with +another courage to which the primitive creature was a stranger--a +courage that made the widow lower her own eyes and twist her hands under +her apron. + +"I want you to come and ask Becky to forgive you." + +The woman stared and laughed. + +"Forgive me? Becky forgive me? She wouldn't--an' I don't want her--" She +could not look up into the girl's eyes; but she pulled a pipe from under +the apron, laid it down with a trembling hand and began to rock +slightly. + +The girl leaned across the gate. + +"Look at me!" she said, sharply. The woman raised her eyes, swerved +them once, and then in spite of herself, held them steady. + +"Listen! Do you want a dying woman's curse?" + +It was a straight thrust to the core of a superstitious heart and a +spasm of terror crossed the woman's face. She began to wring her hands. + +"Come on!" said the girl, sternly, and turned, without looking back, +until she reached the door of the hut, where she beckoned and stood +waiting, while the woman started slowly and helplessly from the steps, +still wringing her hands. Inside, behind her, the wounded Marcum, who +had been listening, raised himself on one elbow and looked after her +through the window. + +"She can't come in--not while I'm in here." + +The girl turned quickly. It was Dave Day, the teamster, in the kitchen +door, and his face looked blacker than his beard. + +"Oh!" she said, simply, as though hurt, and then with a dignity that +surprised her, the teamster turned and strode towards the back door. + +"But I can git out, I reckon," he said, and he never looked at the widow +who had stopped, frightened, at the gate. + +"Oh, I can't--I _can't!_" she said, and her voice broke; but the girl +gently pushed her to the door, where she stopped again, leaning against +the lintel. Across the way, the wounded Marcum, with a scowl of wonder, +crawled out of his bed and started painfully to the door. The girl saw +him and her heart beat fast. + +Inside, Becky lay with closed eyes. She stirred uneasily, as though she +felt some hated presence, but her eyes stayed fast, for the presence of +Death in the room was stronger still. + +"Becky!" At the broken cry, Becky's eyes flashed wide and fire broke +through the haze that had gathered in them. + +"I want ye ter fergive me, Becky." + +The eyes burned steadily for a long time. For two days she had not +spoken, but her voice came now, as though from the grave. + +"You!" she said, and, again, with torturing scorn, "You!" And then she +smiled, for she knew why her enemy was there, and her hour of triumph +was come. The girl moved swiftly to the window--she could see the +wounded Marcum slowly crossing the street, pistol in hand. + +"What'd I ever do to you?" + +"Nothin', Becky, nothin'." + +Becky laughed harshly. "You can tell the truth--can't ye--to a dyin' +woman?" + +"Fergive me, Becky!" + +A scowling face, tortured with pain, was thrust into the window. + +"Sh-h!" whispered the girl, imperiously, and the man lifted his heavy +eyes, dropped one elbow on the window-sill and waited. + +"You tuk Jim from me!" + +The widow covered her face with her hands, and the Marcum at the +window--brother to Jim, who was dead--lowered at her, listening keenly. + +"An' you got him by lyin' 'bout me. You tuk him by lyin' 'bout +me--didn't ye? Didn't ye?" she repeated, fiercely, and her voice would +have wrung the truth from a stone. + +"Yes--Becky--yes!" + +"You hear?" cried Becky, turning her eyes to the girl. + +"You made him believe an' made ever'body, you could, believe that I +was--was _bad_" Her breath got short, but the terrible arraignment went +on. + +"You started this war. My brother wouldn't 'a' shot Jim Marcum if it +hadn't been fer you. You killed Jim--your own husband--an' you killed +_me_. An' now you want me to fergive you--you!" She raised her right +hand as though with it she would hurl the curse behind her lips, and the +widow, with a cry, sprang for the bony fingers, catching them in her own +hand and falling over on her knees at the bedside. + +"Don't, Becky, don't--don't--_don't!_" + +There was a slight rustle at the back window. At the other, a pistol +flashed into sight and dropped again below the sill. Turning, the girl +saw Dave's bushy black head--he, too, with one elbow on the sill and the +other hand out of sight. + +"Shame!" she said, looking from one to the other of the two men, who had +learned, at last, the bottom truth of the feud; and then she caught the +sick woman's other hand and spoke quickly. + +"Hush, Becky," she said; and at the touch of her hand and the sound of +her voice, Becky looked confusedly at her and let her upraised hand sink +back to the bed. The widow stared swiftly from Jim's brother, at one +window, to Dave Day at the other, and hid her face on her arms. + +"Remember, Becky--how can you expect forgiveness in another world, +unless you forgive in this?" + +The woman's brow knitted and she lay quiet. Like the widow who held her +hand, the dying woman believed, with never the shadow of a doubt, that +somewhere above the stars, a living God reigned in a heaven of +never-ending happiness; that somewhere beneath the earth a personal +devil gloated over souls in eternal torture; that whether she went +above, or below, hung solely on her last hour of contrition; and that +in heaven or hell she would know those whom she might meet as surely as +she had known them on earth. By and by her face softened and she drew a +long breath. + +"Jim was a good man," she said. And then after a moment: + +"An' I was a good woman"--she turned her eyes towards the girl--"until +Jim married _her_. I didn't keer after that." Then she got calm, and +while she spoke to the widow, she looked at the girl. + +"Will you git up in church an' say before everybody that you knew I was +_good_ when you said I was bad--that you lied about me?" + +"Yes--yes." Still Becky looked at the girl, who stooped again. + +"She will, Becky, I know she will. Won't you forgive her and leave peace +behind you? Dave and Jim's brother are here--make them shake hands. +Won't you--won't you?" she asked, turning from one to the other. + +Both men were silent. + +"Won't you?" she repeated, looking at Jim's brother. + +"I've got nothin' agin Dave. I always thought that she"--he did not call +his brother's wife by name--"caused all this trouble. I've nothin' agin +Dave." + +The girl turned. "Won't you, Dave?" + +"I'm waitin' to hear whut Becky says." + +Becky was listening, though her eyes were closed. Her brows knitted +painfully. It was a hard compromise that she was asked to make i between +mortal hate and a love that was more than mortal, but the Plea that has +stood between them for nearly twenty centuries prevailed, and the girl +knew that the end of the feud was nigh. + +Becky nodded. + +"Yes, I fergive her, an' I want 'em to shake hands." + +But not once did she turn her eyes to the woman whom she forgave, and +the hand that the widow held gave back no answering pressure. The faces +at the windows disappeared, and she motioned for the girl to take her +weeping enemy away. + +She did not open her eyes when the girl came back, but her lips moved +and the girl bent above her. + +"I know whar Jim is." + +From somewhere outside came Dave's cough, and the dying woman turned her +head as though she were reminded of something she had quite forgotten. +Then, straightway, she forgot again. + +The voice of the flood had deepened. A smile came to Becky's lips--a +faint, terrible smile of triumph. The girl bent low and, with a +startled face, shrank back. + +"_An' I'll--git--thar--first._" + +With that whisper went Becky's last breath, but the smile was there, +even when her lips were cold. + + + + +A CRISIS FOR THE GUARD + + +The tutor was from New England, and he was precisely what passes, with +Southerners, as typical. He was thin, he wore spectacles, he talked +dreamy abstractions, and he looked clerical. Indeed, his ancestors had +been clergymen for generations, and, by nature and principle, he was an +apostle of peace and a non-combatant. He had just come to the Gap--a +cleft in the Cumberland Mountains--to prepare two young Blue Grass +Kentuckians for Harvard. The railroad was still thirty miles away, and +he had travelled mule-back through mudholes, on which, as the joke ran, +a traveller was supposed to leave his card before he entered and +disappeared--that his successor might not unknowingly press him too +hard. I do know that, in those mudholes, mules were sometimes drowned. +The tutor's gray mule fell over a bank with him, and he would have gone +back had he not feared what was behind more than anything that was +possible ahead. He was mud-bespattered, sore, tired and dispirited when +he reached the Gap, but still plucky and full of business. He wanted to +see his pupils at once and arrange his schedule. They came in after +supper, and I had to laugh when I saw his mild eyes open. The boys were +only fifteen and seventeen, but each had around him a huge revolver and +a belt of cartridges, which he unbuckled and laid on the table after +shaking hands. The tutor's shining glasses were raised to me for light. +I gave it: my brothers had just come in from a little police duty, I +explained. Everybody was a policeman at the Gap, I added; and, +naturally, he still looked puzzled; but he began at once to question the +boys about their studies, and, in an hour, he had his daily schedule +mapped out and submitted to me. I had to cover my mouth with my hand +when I came to one item--"Exercise: a walk of half an hour every +Wednesday afternoon between five and six"--for the younger, known since +at Harvard as the colonel, and known then at the Gap as the Infant of +the Guard, winked most irreverently. As he had just come back from a +ten-mile chase down the valley on horseback after a bad butcher, and as +either was apt to have a like experience any and every day, I was not +afraid they would fail to get exercise enough; so I let that item of the +tutor pass. + +The tutor slept in my room that night, and my four brothers, the eldest +of whom was a lieutenant on the police guard, in a room across the +hallway. I explained to the tutor that there was much lawlessness in +the region; that we "foreigners" were trying to build a town, and that, +to ensure law and order, we had all become volunteer policemen. He +seemed to think it was most interesting. + +About three o'clock in the morning a shrill whistle blew, and, from +habit, I sprang out of bed. I had hardly struck the floor when four +pairs of heavy boots thundered down the stairs just outside the door, +and I heard a gasp from the startled tutor. He was bolt upright in bed, +and his face in the moonlight was white with fear. + +"Wha--wha--what's that?" + +I told him it was a police whistle and that the boys were answering it. +Everybody jumped when he heard a whistle, I explained; for nobody in +town was permitted to blow one except a policeman. I guessed there would +be enough men answering that whistle without me, however, and I slipped +back into bed. + +"Well," he said; and when the boys lumbered upstairs again and one +shouted through the door, "All right!" the tutor said again with +emphasis: "Well!" + +Next day there was to be a political gathering at the Gap. A Senator was +trying to lift himself by his own boot-straps into the Governor's +chair. He was going to make a speech, there would be a big and unruly +crowd, and it would be a crucial day for the Guard. So, next morning, I +suggested to the tutor that it would be unwise for him to begin work +with his pupils that day, for the reason that he was likely to be +greatly interrupted and often. He thought, however, he would like to +begin. He did begin, and within half an hour Gordon, the town sergeant, +thrust his head inside the door and called the colonel by name. + +"Come on," he said; "they're going to try that d--n butcher." And seeing +from the tutor's face that he had done something dreadful, he slammed +the door in apologetic confusion. The tutor was law-abiding, and it was +the law that called the colonel, and so the tutor let him go--nay, went +with him and heard the case. The butcher had gone off on another man's +horse--the man owed him money, he said, and the only way he could get +his money was to take the horse as security. But the sergeant did not +know this, and he and the colonel rode after him, and the colonel, +having the swifter horse, but not having had time to get his own pistol, +took the sergeant's and went ahead. He fired quite close to the running +butcher twice, and the butcher thought it wise to halt. When he saw the +child who had captured him he was speechless, and he got off his horse +and cut a big switch to give the colonel a whipping, but the doughty +Infant drew down on him again and made him ride, foaming with rage, back +to town. The butcher was good-natured at the trial, however, and the +tutor heard him say, with a great guffaw: + +"An' I _do_ believe the d--n little fool would 'a' shot me." + +Once more the tutor looked at the pupil whom he was to lead into the +classic halls of Harvard, and once more he said: + +"Well!" + +People were streaming into town now, and I persuaded the tutor that +there was no use for him to begin his studies again. He said he would go +fishing down the river and take a swim. He would get back in time to +hear the speaking in the afternoon. So I got him a horse, and he came +out with a long cane fishing-pole and a pair of saddle-bags. I told him +that he must watch the old nag or she would run away with him, +particularly when he started homeward. The tutor was not much of a +centaur. The horse started as he was throwing the wrong leg over his +saddle, and the tutor clamped his rod under one arm, clutching for the +reins with both hands and kicking for his stirrups with both feet. The +tip of the limber pole beat the horse's flank gently as she struck a +trot, and smartly as she struck into a lope, and so with arms, feet, +saddle-pockets, and fishing-rod flapping towards different points of the +compass, the tutor passed out of sight over Poplar Hill on a dead run. + +As soon as he could get over a fit of laughter and catch his breath, the +colonel asked: + +"Do you know what he had in those saddle-pockets?" + +"No." + +"A bathing suit," he shouted; and he went off again. + +Not even in a primeval forest, it seemed, would the modest Puritan bare +his body to the mirror of limpid water and the caress of mountain air. + + * * * * * + +The trouble had begun early that morning, when Gordon, the town +sergeant, stepped from his door and started down the street with no +little self-satisfaction. He had been arraying himself for a full hour, +and after a tub-bath and a shave he stepped, spic and span, into the +street with his head steadily held high, except when he bent it to look +at the shine of his boots, which was the work of his own hands, and of +which he was proud. As a matter of fact, the sergeant felt that he +looked just as he particularly wanted to look on that day--his best. +Gordon was a native of Wise, but that day a girl was coming from Lee, +and he was ready for her. + +Opposite the Intermont, a pistol-shot cracked from Cherokee Avenue, and +from habit he started that way. Logan, the captain of the Guard--the +leading lawyer in that part of the State--was ahead of him however, and +he called to Gordon to follow. Gordon ran in the grass along the road to +keep those boots out of the dust. Somebody had fired off his pistol for +fun and was making tracks for the river. As they pushed the miscreant +close, he dashed into the river to wade across. It was a very cold +morning, and Gordon prayed that the captain was not going to be such a +fool as to follow the fellow across the river. He should have known +better, + +"In with you," said the captain quietly, and the mirror of the shining +boots was dimmed, and the icy water chilled the sergeant to the knees +and made him so mad that he flashed his pistol and told the runaway to +halt, which he did in the middle of the stream. It was Richards, the +tough from "the Pocket," and, as he paid his fine promptly, they had to +let him go. Gordon went back, put on his everyday clothes and got his +billy and his whistle and prepared to see the maid from Lee when his +duty should let him. As a matter of fact, he saw her but once, and then +he was not made happy. + +The people had come in rapidly--giants from the Crab Orchard, +mountaineers from through the Gap, and from Cracker's Neck and +Thunderstruck Knob; Valley people from Little Stone-Gap, from the +furnace site and Bum Hollow and Wildcat, and people from Lee, from +Turkey Cove, and from the Pocket--the much-dreaded Pocket--far down in +the river hills. + +They came on foot and on horseback, and left their horses in the bushes +and crowded the streets and filled the saloon of one Jack Woods--who had +the cackling laugh of Satan and did not like the Guard, for good +reasons, and whose particular pleasure was to persuade some customer to +stir up a hornet's nest of trouble. From the saloon the crowd moved up +towards the big spring at the foot of Imboden Hill, where, under +beautiful trunk-mottled beeches, was built the speakers' platform. + +Precisely at three o'clock the local orator much flurried, rose, ran his +hand through his long hair and looked in silence over the crowd. + +"Fellow citizens! There's beauty in the stars, of night and in the +glowin' orb of day. There's beauty in the rollin' meadow and in the +quiet stream. There's beauty in the smilin' valley and in the +everlastin' hills. Therefore, fellow citizens--THEREFORE, fellow +citizens, allow me to introduce to you the future Governor of these +United States--Senator William Bayhone." And he sat down with such a +beatific smile of self-satisfaction that a fiend would not have had the +heart to say he had not won. + +Now, there are wandering minstrels yet in the Cumberland Hills. They +play fiddles and go about making up "ballets" that involve local +history. Sometimes they make a pretty good verse--this, for instance, +about a feud: + + The death of these two men + Caused great trouble in our land. + Caused men to leave their families + And take the parting hand. + Retaliation, still at war, + May never, never cease. + I would that I could only see + Our land once more at peace. + +There was a minstrel out in the crowd, and pretty soon he struck up his +fiddle and his lay, and he did not exactly sing the virtues of Billy +Bayhone. Evidently some partisan thought he ought, for he smote him on +the thigh with the toe of his boot and raised such a stir as a rude +stranger might had he smitten a troubadour in Arthur's Court. The crowd +thickened and surged, and four of the Guard emerged with the fiddler and +his assailant under arrest. It was as though the Valley were a sheet of +water straightway and the fiddler the dropping of a stone, for the +ripple of mischief started in every direction. It caught two +mountaineers on the edge of the crowd, who for no particular reason +thumped each other with their huge fists, and were swiftly led away by +that silent Guard. The operation of a mysterious force was in the air +and it puzzled the crowd. Somewhere a whistle would blow, and, from this +point and that, a quiet, well-dressed young man would start swiftly +toward it. The crowd got restless and uneasy, and, by and by, +experimental and defiant. For in that crowd was the spirit of Bunker +Hill and King's Mountain. It couldn't fiddle and sing; it couldn't +settle its little troubles after the good old fashion of fist and skull; +it couldn't charge up and down the streets on horseback if it pleased; +it couldn't ride over those puncheon sidewalks; it couldn't drink openly +and without shame; and, Shades of the American Eagle and the Stars and +Stripes, it couldn't even yell. No wonder, like the heathen, it raged. +What did these blanked "furriners" have against them anyhow? They +couldn't run _their_ country--not much. + +Pretty soon there came a shrill whistle far down-town--then another and +another. It sounded ominous, indeed, and it was, being a signal of +distress from the Infant of the Guard, who stood before the door of Jack +Woods's saloon with his pistol levelled on Richards, the tough from the +Pocket, the Infant, standing there with blazing eyes, alone and in the +heart of a gathering storm. + +Now the chain of lawlessness that had tightened was curious and +significant. There was the tough and his kind--lawless, irresponsible +and possible in any community. There was the farm-hand who had come to +town with the wild son of his employer--an honest, law-abiding farmer. +Came, too, a friend of the farmer who had not yet reaped the crop of +wild oats sown in his youth. Whiskey ran all into one mould. The +farm-hand drank with the tough, the wild son with the farm-hand, and the +three drank together, and got the farmer's unregenerate friend to drink +with them; and he and the law-abiding farmer himself, by and by, took a +drink for old time's sake. Now the cardinal command of rural and +municipal districts all through the South is, "Forsake not your friend": +and it does not take whiskey long to make friends. Jack Woods had given +the tough from the Pocket a whistle. + +"You dassen't blow it," said he. + +Richards asked why, and Jack told him. Straightway the tough blew the +whistle, and when the little colonel ran down to arrest him he laughed +and resisted, and the wild son and the farm-hand and Jack Woods showed +an inclination to take his part. So, holding his "drop" on the tough +with one hand, the Infant blew vigorously for help with the other. + +Logan, the captain, arrived first--he usually arrived first--and Gordon, +the sergeant, was by his side--Gordon was always by his side. He would +have stormed a battery if the captain had led him, and the captain would +have led him--alone--if he thought it was his duty. Logan was as calm as +a stage hero at the crisis of a play. The crowd had pressed close. + +"Take that man," he said sharply, pointing to the tough whom the colonel +held covered, and two men seized him from behind. + +The farm-hand drew his gun. + +"No, you don't!" he shouted. + +"Take _him_," said the captain quietly; and he was seized by two more and +disarmed. + +It was then that Sturgeon, the wild son, ran up. + +"You can't take that man to jail," he shouted with an oath, pointing at +the farm-hand. + +The captain waved his hand. "And _him_!" + +As two of the Guard approached, Sturgeon started for his gun. Now, +Sturgeon was Gordon's blood cousin, but Gordon levelled his own pistol. +Sturgeon's weapon caught in his pocket, and he tried to pull it loose. +The moment he succeeded Gordon stood ready to fire. Twice the hammer of +the sergeant's pistol went back almost to the turning-point, and then, +as he pulled the trigger again, Macfarlan, first lieutenant, who once +played lacrosse at Yale, rushed, parting the crowd right and left, and +dropped his billy lightly three times--right, left and right--on +Sturgeon's head. The blood spurted, the head fell back between the +bully's shoulders, his grasp on his pistol loosened, and he sank to his +knees. For a moment the crowd was stunned by the lightning quickness of +it all. It was the first blow ever struck in that country with a piece +of wood in the name of the law. + +"Take 'em on, boys," called the captain, whose face had paled a little, +though he seemed as cool as ever. + +And the boys started, dragging the three struggling prisoners, and the +crowd, growing angrier and angrier, pressed close behind, a hundred of +them, led by the farmer himself, a giant in size, and beside himself +with rage and humiliation. Once he broke through the guard line and was +pushed back. Knives and pistols began to flash now everywhere, and loud +threats and curses rose on all sides--the men should not be taken to +jail. The sergeant, dragging Sturgeon, looked up into the blazing eyes +of a girl on the sidewalk, Sturgeon's sister--the maid from Lee. The +sergeant groaned. Logan gave some order just then to the Infant, who +ran ahead, and by the time the Guard with the prisoners had backed to a +corner there were two lines of Guards drawn across the street. The first +line let the prisoners and their captors through, closed up behind, and +backed slowly towards the corner, where it meant to stand. + +It was very exciting there. Winchesters and shotguns protruded from the +line threateningly, but the mob came on as though it were going to press +through, and determined faces blenched with excitement, but not with +fear. A moment later, the little colonel and the Guards on either side +of him were jabbing at men with cocked Winchesters. At that moment it +would have needed but one shot to ring out to have started an awful +carnage; but not yet was there a man in the mob--and that is the trouble +with mobs--who seemed willing to make a sacrifice of himself that the +others might gain their end. For one moment they halted, cursing and +waving; their pistols, preparing for a charge; and in that crucial +moment the tutor from New England came like a thunderbolt to the rescue. +Shrieks of terror from children, shrieks of outraged modesty from women, +rent the air down the street where the huddled crowd was rushing right +and left in wild confusion, and, through the parting crowd, the tutor +flew into sight on horseback, bareheaded, barefooted, clad in a gaudily +striped bathing suit, with his saddle-pockets flapping behind him like +wings. Some mischievous mountaineers, seeing him in his bathing suit on +the point of a rock up the river, had joyously taken a pot-shot or two +at him, and the tutor had mounted his horse and fled. But he came as +welcome and as effective as an emissary straight from the God of +Battles, though he came against his will, for his old nag was frantic +and was running away. Men, women and children parted before him, and +gaping mouths widened as he passed. The impulse of the crowd ran faster +than his horse, and even the enraged mountaineers in amazed wonder +sprang out of his way, and, far in the rear, a few privileged ones saw +the frantic horse plunge towards his stable, stop suddenly, and pitch +his mottled rider through the door and mercifully out of sight. Human +purpose must give way when a pure miracle comes to earth to baffle it. +It gave way now long enough to let the oaken doors of the calaboose +close behind tough, farm-hand, and the farmer's wild son. The line of +Winchesters at the corner quietly gave way. The power of the Guard was +established, the backbone of the opposition broken; henceforth, the work +for law and order was to be easy compared with what it had been. Up at +the big spring under the beeches sat the disgusted orator of the day +and the disgusted Senator, who, seriously, was quite sure that the +Guard, being composed of Democrats, had taken this way to shatter his +campaign. + + * * * * * + +Next morning, in court, the members of the Guard acted as witnesses +against the culprits. Macfarlan stated that he had struck Sturgeon over +the head to save his life, and Sturgeon, after he had paid his fine, +said he would prefer being shot to being clubbed to death, and he bore +dangerous malice for a long time, until he learned what everybody else +knew, that Macfarlan always did what he thought he ought, and never +spoke anything but the literal truth, whether it hurt friend, foe or +himself. + +After court, Richards, the tough, met Gordon, the sergeant, in the road. +"Gordon," he said, "you swore to a ---- lie about me a while ago." + +"How do you want to fight?" asked Gordon. + +"Fair!" + +"Come on"; and Gordon started for the town limits across the river, +Richards following on horseback. At a store, Gordon unbuckled his belt +and tossed his pistol and his police badge inside. Jack Woods, seeing +this, followed, and the Infant, seeing Woods, followed too. The law was +law, but this affair was personal, and would be settled without the +limits of law and local obligation. Richards tried to talk to Gordon, +but the sergeant walked with his head down, as though he could not +hear--he was too enraged to talk. + +While Richards was hitching his horse in the bushes the sergeant stood +on the bank of the river with his arms folded and his chin swinging from +side to side. When he saw Richards in the open he rushed for him like a +young bull that feels the first swelling of his horns. It was not a +fair, stand-up, knock-down English fight, but a Scotch tussle, in which +either could strike, kick, bite or gouge. After a few blows they +clinched and whirled and fell, Gordon on top--with which advantage he +began to pound the tough from the Pocket savagely. Woods made as if to +pull him off, but the Infant drew his pistol. "Keep off!" + +"He's killing him!" shouted Woods, halting. + +"Let him holler 'Enough,' then," said the Infant. + +"He's killing him!" shouted Woods. + +"Let Gordon's friends take him off, then," said the Infant. "Don't _you_ +touch him." + +And it was done. Richards was senseless and speechless--he really +couldn't shout "Enough." But he was content, and the day left a very +satisfactory impression on him and on his friends. + +If they misbehaved in town they would be arrested: that was plain. But +it was also plain that if anybody had a personal grievance against one +of the Guard he could call him out of the town limits and get +satisfaction, after the way of his fathers. There was nothing personal +at all in the attitude of the Guard towards the outsiders; which +recognition was a great stride toward mutual understanding and final +high regard. + +All that day I saw that something was troubling the tutor from New +England. It was the Moral Sense of the Puritan at work, I supposed, and, +that night, when I came in with a new supply of "billies" and gave one +to each of my brothers, the tutor looked up over his glasses and cleared +his throat. + +"Now," said I to myself, "we shall catch it hot on the savagery of the +South and the barbarous Method of keeping it down"; but before he had +said three words the colonel looked as though he were going to get up +and slap the little dignitary on the back--which would have created a +sensation indeed. + +"Have you an extra one of those--those--" + +"Billies?" I said, wonderingly. + +"Yes. I--I believe I shall join the Guard myself," said the tutor from +New England. + + + + +CHRISTMAS NIGHT WITH SATAN + + +No night was this in Hades with solemn-eyed Dante, for Satan was only a +woolly little black dog, and surely no dog was ever more absurdly +misnamed. When Uncle Carey first heard that name, he asked gravely: + +"Why, Dinnie, where in h----," Uncle Carey gulped slightly, "did you get +him?" And Dinnie laughed merrily, for she saw the fun of the question, +and shook her black curls. + +"He didn't come f'um _that place_." + +Distinctly Satan had not come from that place. On the contrary, he might +by a miracle have dropped straight from some Happy Hunting-ground, for +all the signs he gave of having touched pitch in this or another sphere. +Nothing human was ever born that was gentler, merrier, more trusting or +more lovable than Satan. That was why Uncle Carey said again gravelyt +hat he could hardly tell Satan and his little mistress apart. He rarely +saw them apart, and as both had black tangled hair and bright black +eyes; as one awoke every morning with a happy smile and the other with a +jolly bark; as they played all day like wind-shaken shadows and each +won every heart at first sight--the likeness was really rather curious. +I have always believed that Satan made the spirit of Dinnie's house, +orthodox and severe though it was, almost kindly toward his great +namesake. I know I have never been able, since I knew little Satan, to +think old Satan as bad as I once painted him, though I am sure the +little dog had many pretty tricks that the "old boy" doubtless has never +used in order to amuse his friends. + +"Shut the door, Saty, please." Dinnie would say, precisely as she would +say it to Uncle Billy, the butler, and straightway Satan would launch +himself at it--bang! He never would learn to close it softly, for Satan +liked that--bang! + +If you kept tossing a coin or marble in the air, Satan would keep +catching it and putting it back in your hand for another throw, till you +got tired. Then he would drop it on a piece of rag carpet, snatch the +carpet with his teeth, throw the coin across the room and rush for it +like mad, until he got tired. If you put a penny on his nose, he would +wait until you counted, one--two--_three_! Then he would toss it up +himself and catch it. Thus, perhaps, Satan grew to love Mammon right +well, but for another and better reason than that he liked simply to +throw it around--as shall now be made plain. + +A rubber ball with a hole in it was his favorite plaything, and he +would take it in his mouth and rush around the house like a child, +squeezing it to make it whistle. When he got a new ball, he would hide +his old one away until the new one was the worse worn of the two, and +then he would bring out the old one again. If Dinnie gave him a nickel +or a dime, when they went down-town, Satan would rush into a store, rear +up on the counter where the rubber balls were kept, drop the coin, and +get a ball for himself. Thus, Satan learned finance. He began to hoard, +his pennies, and one day Uncle Carey found a pile of seventeen under a +corner of the carpet. Usually he carried to Dinnie all coins that he +found in the street, but he showed one day that he was going into the +ball-business for himself. Uncle Carey had given Dinnie a nickel for +some candy, and, as usual, Satan trotted down the street behind her. As +usual, Satan stopped before the knick-knack shop. + +"Tum on, Saty," said Dinnie. Satan reared against the door as he always +did, and Dinnie said again: + +"Tum on, Saty." As usual, Satan dropped to his haunches, but what was +unusual, he failed to bark. Now Dinnie had got a new ball for Satan only +that morning, so Dinnie stamped her foot. + +[Illustration: Satan would drop the coin and get a ball for himself.] + +"I tell you to turn on, Saty." Satan never moved. He looked at Dinnie +as much as to say: + +"I have never disobeyed you before, little mistress, but this time I +have an excellent reason for what must seem to you very bad manners--" +and being a gentleman withal, Satan rose on his haunches and begged. + +"You're des a pig, Saty," said Dinnie, but with a sigh for the candy +that was not to be, Dinnie opened the door, and Satan, to her wonder, +rushed to the counter, put his forepaws on it, and dropped from his +mouth a dime. Satan had found that coin on the street. He didn't bark +for change, nor beg for two balls, but he had got it in his woolly +little head, somehow, that in that store a coin meant a ball, though +never before nor afterward did he try to get a ball for a penny. + +Satan slept in Uncle Carey's room, for of all people, after Dinnie, +Satan loved Uncle Carey best. Every day at noon he would go to an +upstairs window and watch the cars come around the corner, until a very +tall, square-shouldered young man swung to the ground, and down Satan +would scamper--yelping--to meet him at the gate. If Uncle Carey, after +supper and when Dinnie was in bed, started out of the house, still in +his business clothes, Satan would leap out before him, knowing that he +too might be allowed to go; but if Uncle Carey had put on black clothes +that showed a big, dazzling shirt-front, and picked up his high hat, +Satan would sit perfectly still and look disconsolate; for as there were +no parties or theatres for Dinnie, so there were none for him. But no +matter how late it was when Uncle Carey came home, he always saw Satan's +little black nose against the window-pane and heard his bark of welcome. + +After intelligence, Satan's chief trait was lovableness--nobody ever +knew him to fight, to snap at anything, or to get angry; after +lovableness, it was politeness. If he wanted something to eat, if he +wanted Dinnie to go to bed, if he wanted to get out of the door, he +would beg--beg prettily on his haunches, his little red tongue out and +his funny little paws hanging loosely. Indeed, it was just because Satan +was so little less than human, I suppose, that old Satan began to be +afraid he might have a soul. So the wicked old namesake with the Hoofs +and Horns laid a trap for little Satan, and, as he is apt to do, he +began laying it early--long, indeed, before Christmas. + +When Dinnie started to kindergarten that autumn, Satan found that there +was one place where he could never go. Like the lamb, he could not go to +school; so while Dinnie was away, Satan began to make friends. He would +bark, "Howdy-do?" to every dog that passed his gate. Many stopped to rub +noses with him through the fence--even Hugo the mastiff, and nearly all, +indeed, except one strange-looking dog that appeared every morning at +precisely nine o'clock and took his stand on the corner. There he would +lie patiently until a funeral came along, and then Satan would see him +take his place at the head of the procession; and then he would march +out to the cemetery and back again. Nobody knew where he came from nor +where he went, and Uncle Carey called him the "funeral dog" and said he +was doubtless looking for his dead master. Satan even made friends with +a scrawny little yellow dog that followed an old drunkard around--a dog +that, when his master fell in the gutter, would go and catch a policeman +by the coat-tail, lead the officer to his helpless master, and spend the +night with him in jail. + +By and by Satan began to slip out of the house at night, and Uncle Billy +said he reckoned Satan had "jined de club"; and late one night, when he +had not come in, Uncle Billy told Uncle Carey that it was "powerful +slippery and he reckoned they'd better send de kerridge after him"--an +innocent remark that made Uncle Carey send a boot after the old butler, +who fled chuckling down the stairs, and left Uncle Carey chuckling in +his room. + +Satan had "jined de club"--the big club--and no dog was too lowly in +Satan's eyes for admission; for no priest ever preached the brotherhood +of man better than Satan lived it--both with man and dog. And thus he +lived it that Christmas night--to his sorrow. + +Christmas Eve had been gloomy--the gloomiest of Satan's life. Uncle +Carey had gone to a neighboring town at noon. Satan had followed him +down to the station, and when the train departed, Uncle Carey had +ordered him to go home. Satan took his time about going home, not +knowing it was Christmas Eve. He found strange things happening to dogs +that day. The truth was, that policemen were shooting all dogs found +that were without a collar and a license, and every now and then a bang +and a howl somewhere would stop Satan in his tracks. At a little yellow +house on the edge of town he saw half a dozen strange dogs in a kennel, +and every now and then a negro would lead a new one up to the house and +deliver him to a big man at the door, who, in return, would drop +something into the negro's hand. While Satan waited, the old drunkard +came along with his little dog at his heels, paused before the door, +looked a moment at his faithful follower, and went slowly on. Satan +little knew the old drunkard's temptation, for in that yellow house +kind-hearted people had offered fifteen cents for each dog brought to +them, without a license, that they might mercifully put it to death, and +fifteen cents was the precise price for a drink of good whiskey. Just +then there was another bang and another howl somewhere, and Satan +trotted home to meet a calamity. Dinnie was gone. Her mother had taken +her out in the country to Grandmother Dean's to spend Christmas, as was +the family custom, and Mrs. Dean would not wait any longer for Satan; so +she told Uncle Billy to bring him out after supper. + +"Ain't you 'shamed o' yo'self--suh--?" said the old butler, "keepin' me +from ketchin' Christmas gifts dis day?" + +Uncle Billy was indignant, for the negroes begin at four o'clock in the +afternoon of Christmas Eve to slip around corners and jump from hiding +places to shout "Christmas Gif--Christmas Gif'"; and the one who shouts +first gets a gift. No wonder it was gloomy for Satan--Uncle Carey, +Dinnie, and all gone, and not a soul but Uncle Billy in the big house. +Every few minutes he would trot on his little black legs upstairs and +downstairs, looking for his mistress. As dusk came on, he would every +now and then howl plaintively. After begging his supper, and while +Uncle Billy was hitching up a horse in the stable, Satan went out in the +yard and lay with his nose between the close panels of the fence--quite +heart-broken. When he saw his old friend, Hugo, the mastiff, trotting +into the gaslight, he began to bark his delight frantically. The big +mastiff stopped and nosed his sympathy through the fence for a moment +and walked slowly on, Satan frisking and barking along inside. At the +gate Hugo stopped, and raising one huge paw, playfully struck it. The +gate flew open, and with a happy yelp Satan leaped into the street. The +noble mastiff hesitated as though this were not quite regular. He did +not belong to the club, and he didn't know that Satan had ever been away +from home after dark in his life. For a moment he seemed to wait for +Dinnie to call him back as she always did, but this time there was no +sound, and Hugo walked majestically on, with absurd little Satan running +in a circle about him. On the way they met the "funeral dog," who +glanced inquiringly at Satan, shied from the mastiff, and trotted on. On +the next block the old drunkard's yellow cur ran across the street, and +after interchanging the compliments of the season, ran back after his +staggering master. As they approached the railroad track a strange dog +joined them, to whom Hugo paid no attention. At the crossing another +new acquaintance bounded toward them. This one--a half-breed +shepherd--was quite friendly, and he received Satan's advances with +affable condescension. Then another came and another, and little Satan's +head got quite confused. They were a queer-looking lot of curs and +half-breeds from the negro settlement at the edge of the woods, and +though Satan had little experience, his instincts told him that all was +not as it should be, and had he been human he would have wondered very +much how they had escaped the carnage that day. Uneasy, he looked around +for Hugo; but Hugo had disappeared. Once or twice Hugo had looked around +for Satan, and Satan paying no attention, the mastiff trotted on home in +disgust. Just then a powerful yellow cur sprang out of the darkness over +the railroad track, and Satan sprang to meet him, and so nearly had the +life scared out of him by the snarl and flashing fangs of the new-comer +that he hardly had the strength to shrink back behind his new friend, +the half-breed shepherd. + +A strange thing then happened. The other dogs became suddenly quiet, and +every eye was on the yellow cur. He sniffed the air once or twice, gave +two or three peculiar low growls, and all those dogs except Satan lost +the civilization of centuries and went back suddenly to the time when +they were wolves and were looking for a leader. The cur was Lobo for +that little pack, and after a short parley, he lifted his nose high and +started away without looking back, while the other dogs silently trotted +after him. With a mystified yelp, Satan ran after them. The cur did not +take the turnpike, but jumped the fence into a field, making his way by +the rear of houses, from which now and then another dog would slink out +and silently join the band. Every one of them Satan nosed most +friendlily, and to his great joy the funeral dog, on the edge of the +town, leaped into their midst. Ten minutes later the cur stopped in the +midst of some woods, as though he would inspect his followers. Plainly, +he disapproved of Satan, and Satan kept out of his way. Then he sprang +into the turnpike and the band trotted down it, under flying black +clouds and shifting bands of brilliant moonlight. Once, a buggy swept +past them. A familiar odor struck Satan's nose, and he stopped for a +moment to smell the horse's tracks; and right he was, too, for out at +her grandmother's Dinnie refused to be comforted, and in that buggy was +Uncle Billy going back to town after him. + +Snow was falling. It was a great lark for Satan. Once or twice, as he +trotted along, he had to bark his joy aloud, and each time the big cur +gave him such a fierce growl that he feared thereafter to open his +jaws. But he was happy for all that, to be running out into the night +with such a lot of funny friends and not to know or care where he was +going. He got pretty tired presently, for over hill and down hill they +went, at that unceasing trot, trot, trot! Satan's tongue began to hang +out. Once he stopped to rest, but the loneliness frightened him and he +ran on after them with his heart almost bursting. He was about to lie +right down and die, when the cur stopped, sniffed the air once or twice, +and with those same low growls, led the marauders through a rail fence +into the woods, and lay quietly down. How Satan loved that soft, thick +grass, all snowy that it was! It was almost as good as his own bed at +home. And there they lay--how long, Satan never knew, for he went to +sleep and dreamed that he was after a rat in the barn at home; and he +yelped in his sleep, which made the cur lift his big yellow head and +show his fangs. The moving of the half-breed shepherd and the funeral +dog waked him at last, and Satan got up. Half crouching, the cur was +leading the way toward the dark, still woods on top of the hill, over +which the Star of Bethlehem was lowly sinking, and under which lay a +flock of the gentle creatures that seemed to have been almost sacred to +the Lord of that Star. They were in sore need of a watchful shepherd +now. Satan was stiff and chilled, but he was rested and had had his +sleep, and he was just as ready for fun as he always was. He didn't +understand that sneaking. Why they didn't all jump and race and bark as +he wanted to, he couldn't see; but he was too polite to do otherwise +than as they did, and so he sneaked after them; and one would have +thought he knew, as well as the rest, the hellish mission on which they +were bent. + +Out of the woods they went, across a little branch, and there the big +cur lay flat again in the grass. A faint bleat came from the hill-side +beyond, where Satan could see another woods--and then another bleat, and +another. And the cur began to creep again, like a snake in the grass; +and the others crept too, and little Satan crept, though it was all a +sad mystery to him. Again the cur lay still, but only long enough for +Satan to see curious, fat, white shapes above him--and then, with a +blood-curdling growl, the big brute dashed forward. Oh, there was fun in +them after all! Satan barked joyfully. Those were some new +playmates--those fat, white, hairy things up there; and Satan was amazed +when, with frightened snorts, they fled in every direction. But this was +a new game, perhaps, of which he knew nothing, and as did the rest, so +did Satan. He picked out one of the white things and fled barking after +it. It was a little fellow that he was after, but little as he was, +Satan might never have caught up, had not the sheep got tangled in some +brush. Satan danced about him in mad glee, giving him a playful nip at +his wool and springing back to give him another nip, and then away +again. Plainly, he was not going to bite back, and when the sheep +struggled itself tired and sank down in a heap, Satan came close and +licked him, and as he was very warm and woolly, he lay down and snuggled +up against him for awhile, listening to the turmoil that was going on +around him. And as he listened, he got frightened. + +If this was a new game it was certainly a very peculiar one--the wild +rush, the bleats of terror, gasps of agony, and the fiendish growls of +attack and the sounds of ravenous gluttony. With every hair bristling, +Satan rose and sprang from the woods--and stopped with a fierce tingling +of the nerves that brought him horror and fascination. One of the white +shapes lay still before him. There was a great steaming red splotch on +the snow, and a strange odor in the air that made him dizzy; but only +for a moment. Another white shape rushed by. A tawny streak followed, +and then, in a patch of moonlight, Satan saw the yellow cur with his +teeth fastened in the throat of his moaning playmate. Like lightning +Satan sprang at the cur, who tossed him ten feet away and went back to +his awful work. Again Satan leaped, but just then a shout rose behind +him, and the cur leaped too as though a bolt of lightning had crashed +over him, and, no longer noticing Satan or sheep, began to quiver with +fright and slink away. Another shout rose from another direction--another +from another. + +"Drive 'em into the barn-yard!" was the cry. + +Now and then there was a fearful bang and a howl of death-agony, as some +dog tried to break through the encircling men, who yelled and cursed as +they closed in on the trembling brutes that slunk together and crept on; +for it is said, every sheep-killing dog knows his fate if caught, and +will make little effort to escape. With them went Satan, through the +barn-yard gate, where they huddled in a corner--a shamed and terrified +group. A tall overseer stood at the gate. + +"Ten of 'em!" he said grimly. + +He had been on the lookout for just such a tragedy, for there had +recently been a sheep-killing raid on several farms in that +neighborhood, and for several nights he had had a lantern hung out on +the edge of the woods to scare the dogs away; but a drunken farm-hand +had neglected his duty that Christmas Eve. + +"Yassuh, an' dey's jus' sebenteen dead sheep out dar," said a negro. + +"Look at the little one," said a tall boy who looked like the overseer; +and Satan knew that he spoke of him. + +"Go back to the house, son," said the overseer, "and tell your mother to +give you a Christmas present I got for you yesterday." With a glad whoop +the boy dashed away, and in a moment dashed back with a brand-new .32 +Winchester in his hand. + +The dark hour before dawn was just breaking on Christmas Day. It was the +hour when Satan usually rushed upstairs to see if his little mistress +was asleep. If he were only at home now, and if he only had known how +his little mistress was weeping for him amid her playthings and his--two +new balls and a brass-studded collar with a silver plate on which was +his name, Satan Dean; and if Dinnie could have seen him now, her heart +would have broken; for the tall boy raised his gun. There was a jet of +smoke, a sharp, clean crack, and the funeral dog started on the right +way at last toward his dead master. Another crack, and the yellow cur +leaped from the ground and fell kicking. Another crack and another, and +with each crack a dog tumbled, until little Satan sat on his haunches +amid the writhing pack, alone. His time was now come. As the rifle was +raised, he heard up at the big house the cries of children; the popping +of fire-crackers; tooting of horns and whistles and loud shouts of +"Christmas Gif', Christmas Gif'!" His little heart beat furiously. +Perhaps he knew just what he was doing; perhaps it was the accident of +habit; most likely Satan simply wanted to go home--but when that gun +rose, Satan rose too, on his haunches, his tongue out, his black eyes +steady and his funny little paws hanging loosely--and begged! The boy +lowered the gun. + +"Down, sir!" Satan dropped obediently, but when the gun was lifted +again, Satan rose again, and again he begged. + +"Down, I tell you!" This time Satan would not down, but sat begging for +his life. The boy turned. + +"Papa, I can't shoot that dog." Perhaps Satan had reached the stern old +overseer's heart. Perhaps he remembered suddenly that it was Christmas. +At any rate, he said gruffly: + +"Well, let him go." + +"Come here, sir!" Satan bounded toward the tall boy, frisking and +trustful and begged again. + +"Go home, sir!" + +Satan needed no second command. Without a sound he fled out the +barn-yard, and, as he swept under the front gate, a little girl ran out +of the front door of the big house and dashed down the steps, shrieking: + +"Saty! Saty! Oh, Saty!" But Satan never heard. On he fled, across the +crisp fields, leaped the fence and struck the road, lickety-split! for +home, while Dinnie dropped sobbing in the snow. + +"Hitch up a horse, quick," said Uncle Carey, rushing after Dinnie and +taking her up in his arms. Ten minutes later, Uncle Carey and Dinnie, +both warmly bundled up, were after flying Satan. They never caught him +until they reached the hill on the outskirts of town, where was the +kennel of the kind-hearted people who were giving painless death to +Satan's four-footed kind, and where they saw him stop and turn from the +road. There was divine providence in Satan's flight for one little dog +that Christmas morning; for Uncle Carey saw the old drunkard staggering +down the road without his little companion, and a moment later, both he +and Dinnie saw Satan nosing a little yellow cur between the palings. +Uncle Carey knew the little cur, and while Dinnie was shrieking for +Satan, he was saying under his breath: + +"Well, I swear!--I swear!--I swear!" And while the big man who came to +the door was putting Satan into Dinnie's arms, he said, sharply: + +"Who brought that yellow dog here?" The man pointed to the old +drunkard's figure turning a corner at the foot of the hill. + +"I thought so; I thought so. He sold him to you for--for a drink of +whiskey." + +The man whistled. + +"Bring him out. I'll pay his license." + +So back went Satan and the little cur to Grandmother Dean's--and Dinnie +cried when Uncle Carey told her why he was taking the little cur along. +With her own hands she put Satan's old collar on the little brute, took +him to the kitchen, and fed him first of all. Then she went into the +breakfast-room. + +"Uncle Billy," she said severely, "didn't I tell you not to let Saty +out?" + +"Yes, Miss Dinnie," said the old butler. + +"Didn't I tell you I was goin' to whoop you if you let Saty out?" + +"Yes, Miss Dinnie." + +Miss Dinnie pulled forth from her Christmas treasures a toy riding-whip +and the old darky's eyes began to roll in mock terror. + +"I'm sorry, Uncle Billy, but I des got to whoop you a little." + +"Let Uncle Billy off, Dinnie," said Uncle Carey, "this is Christmas." + +"All wite," said Dinnie, and she turned to Satan. + +In his shining new collar and innocent as a cherub, Satan sat on the +hearth begging for his breakfast. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHRISTMAS EVE ON LONESOME AND OTHER +STORIES*** + + +******* This file should be named 10735.txt or 10735.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/7/3/10735 + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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