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diff --git a/34057.txt b/34057.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..81f0bb0 --- /dev/null +++ b/34057.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12055 @@ +Project Gutenberg's When 'Bear Cat' Went Dry, by Charles Neville Buck + +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: When 'Bear Cat' Went Dry + +Author: Charles Neville Buck + +Illustrator: George W. Gage + +Release Date: October 11, 2010 [EBook #34057] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WHEN 'BEAR CAT' WENT DRY *** + + + + +Produced by David Garcia and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Kentuckiana Digital Library) + + + + + + +WHEN 'BEAR CAT' WENT DRY + +[Illustration: You're agoing to marry me and we're goin' to dwell +thar--together] + + + + +WHEN 'BEAR CAT' WENT DRY + + +BY + +CHARLES NEVILLE BUCK + +_Author of_ +"THE CALL OF THE CUMBERLANDS," etc. + + +Illustrations by +GEORGE W. GAGE + + +NEW YORK +W. J. WATT & COMPANY +PUBLISHERS + + +Copyright, 1918, by +W. J. WATT & COMPANY + + +_OTHER BOOKS_ + +_By_ + +CHARLES NEVILLE BUCK + + THE KEY TO YESTERDAY + THE LIGHTED MATCH + THE PORTAL OF DREAMS + THE CALL OF THE CUMBERLANDS + THE BATTLE CRY + THE CODE OF THE MOUNTAINS + DESTINY + THE TYRANNY OF WEAKNESS + + +PRESS OF +BRAUNWORTH & CO. +BOOK MANUFACTURERS +BROOKLYN, N. Y. + + + +TO + +M. F. + + + + +WHEN 'BEAR CAT' WENT DRY + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +A creaking complaint of loose and rattling boards rose under the old +mountaineer's brogans as he stepped from the threshold to the porch. +His eyes, searching the wooded mountain-side, held at first only that +penetration which born woodsmen share with the hawk and ferret, but +presently they kindled into irascibility as well. + +He raised his voice in a loud whoop that went skittering off across the +rocky creek bed where Little Slippery crawled along to feed the trickle +of Big Slippery ten miles below, and the volume of sound broke into a +splintering of echoes against the forested crags of the Old Wilderness +Ridges. + +"You, Turner!" bellowed the man with such a bull-like roar as might +have issued from the chest of a Viking. "You, Turner, don't ye heer me +a-callin' ye?" + +A woman, rawboned and crone-like before her time under the merciless +forcing of drudgery, appeared in the door, wiping reddened hands on a +coarse cotton apron. + +"I reckon he'll be hyar, presently, paw," she suggested in a +high-pitched voice meant to be placating. "I reckon he hain't fared far +away." + +The hodden-gray figure of the man turned to his wife and his voice, as +it dropped to conversational pitch, held a surprisingly low and +drawling cadence. + +"What needcessity did he hev ter go away a-tall?" came his interrogation. +"He knowed I aimed ter hev him tote thet gryste acrost ther ridge ter +the tub-mill, didn't he? He knows that hits perilous business ter leave +corn like that a-layin' 'round, don't he--_sprouted corn_!" + +A flash of poignant anxiety clouded the woman's eyes. Corn sprouted in +the grain before grinding! She knew well enough what that +meant--incrimination in the eyes of the Government--trial, perhaps, and +imprisonment. + +"Ye 'lowed a long while since, Lone," she reminded him with a trace of +wistfulness in her voice, "that ye aimed ter quit makin' blockade +licker fer all time. Hit don't pleasure me none ter see ye a-follerin' +hit ergin. Seems like thar's a curse on hit from start ter finish." + +"I don't foller hit because I delights in hit," he retorted grimly. +"But what else is thar ter do? I reckon we've got ter live +somehow--hain't we?" For an instant his eyes flared with an upleaping +of rebellion; then he turned again on his heel and roared "Turner--you, +Turner!" + +"Ther boy seemed kinderly fagged out when he come in. I reckon he aimed +ter slip off and rest in ther shade somewhars fer a lettle spell afore +ye needed him," volunteered the boy's mother, but the suggestion failed +to mollify the mounting impatience of the father. + +"Fagged! What's fagged him? I hain't never disc'arned nothin' puny +about him. He's survigrous enough ter go a-snortin' an' a-stompin' over +ther hills like a yearlin' bull, a-honin' fer battle. He's knowed from +God's Blessin' Creek ter Hell's Holler by ther name of Bear Cat Stacy, +hain't he? Bear Cat Stacy! I'd hate ter take my name from a +varmint--but it pleasures him." + +"I don't sca'cely b'lieve he seeks no aimless quarrels," argued the +mother defensively. "Thar hain't no _meanness_ in him. He's jest like +you was, Lone, when ye was twenty a-goin' on twenty-one. He's full o' +sperrit. I reckon Bear Cat jest means thet he's quick-like an' supple." + +"Supple! Hell's torment! Whar's he at now? He's jest about a-layin' +somewhar's on his shoulder-blades a-readin' thet everlastin' book +erbout Abe Lincoln--You, Turner!" + +Then the figure of a young man appeared, swinging along with an +effortless stride down the steep grade of the mountain which was richly +mottled with the afternoon sun. He came between giant clusters of +flowering laurel, along aisles pink with wild roses and white with the +foaming spray of elder blossoms; flanked by masses of colossal rock, +and every movement was a note of frictionless power. + +Like his father, Turner Stacy measured a full six feet, but age and the +yoke of hardship had not yet stooped his fine shoulders nor thickened +his slenderness of girth. His face was striking in its clear chiseling +of feature and its bronzed color. It would have been arrestingly +handsome but for its marring shadow of surliness. + +In one hand he held a battered book, palpably one used with the +constancy and devotion of a monk's breviary, and a forefinger was still +thrust between the dog-eared pages. "Lincoln: Master of Men,"--such was +the title of the volume. + +As Turner Stacy arrived at the house, his father's uncompromisingly +stern eyes dwelt on the book and they were brimming with displeasure. + +"Didn't ye know I hed work for ye ter do terday?" + +The boy nodded indifferently. + +"I 'lowed ye hed ther power ter shout fer me when ye war ready, I +wasn't more'n a whoop an' a holler distant." + +The mother, hovering in the shadowed interior of the house, listened +silently, and a little anxiously. This friction of unbending temper +between her husband and son was a thing to which she could never quite +accustom herself. Always she was interposing herself as a buffer +between their threats of clashing wills. + +"Turner," said the elder man slowly, and now he spoke quietly with an +effort to curb his irascibililty, "I knows thet boys often-times gits +uppety an' brash when they're a-growin' inter manhood. They've got thar +growth an' they feel thar strength an' they hain't acquired neither +sense ner experience enough ter realize how plumb teetotally much they +_don't_ know yit. But speakin' jedgmatically, I hain't never heered +tell of no Stacy afore what hain't been loyal ter his family an' ther +head of his house. 'Pears like ter me hit pleasures ye beyond all +reason ter sot yoreself crost-wise erginst me." + +The boy's eyes grew somberly dark as they met those of his father with +undeviating steadiness. An analyst would have said that the outward +surliness was after all only a mask for an inner questioning--the +inarticulate stress of a cramped and aspiring spirit. + +"I don't know as ye hev any rightful cause fer ter charge me with bein' +disloyal," he answered slowly, as if pondering the accusation. "I +hain't never aimed ter contrary ye." + +Lone Stacy paused for a moment and then the timbre of his voice +acquired the barb of an irony more massive than subtle. + +"Air yore heart in torment because ye hain't ther Presi_dent_ of ther +country, like Abe Lincoln was? Is _thet_ why ye don't delight in +nothin' save dilitary dreams?" + +A slow, brick-red flush suffused the brown cheeks of Bear Cat Stacy, +and his answer came with a slowness that was almost halting. + +"When Abraham Lincoln was twenty years old he warn't no more Presi_dent_ +then what I be. Thar hain't many Lincoln's, but any feller kin have +ther thing in him, though, thet carried Lincoln up ter whar he went. +Any feller kin do his best and want ter do some better. Thet's all I'm +aimin' after." + +The father studied his son's suddenly animated eyes and inquired drily, +"Does this book-l'arnin' teach ye ter lay around plumb ind'lent with +times so slavish hard thet I've been pintedly compelled ter start ther +still workin' ergin, despite my a-bein' a Christian an' a law-lover: +despite my seekin' godliness an' abhorin' iniquity?" + +There was in the sober expression of the questioner no cast of +hypocrisy or conscious anomaly, and the younger man shook his head. + +"I hain't never shirked no labor, neither in ther field ner at ther +still, but----" He paused a moment and once more the rebellious light +flared in his eyes and he continued with the level steadiness of +resolution. "But I hates ter foller thet business, an' when I comes of +age I aims ter quit hit." + +"Ye aims ter quit hit, does ye?" The old mountaineer forgot, in the +sudden leaping of wrath at such unfilial utterances, that he himself +had a few minutes before spoken in the same tenor. "Ye aims ter defy +me, does ye? Wa'al even afore ye comes of age hit wouldn't hardly hurt +ye none ter quit _drinkin'_ hit. Ye're too everlastin' good ter _make_ +blockade licker, but ye hain't none too good ter lay drunk up thar with +hit." + +This time the boy's flush was one of genuine chagrin and he bit off the +instinctive retort that perhaps a realization of this overpowering +thirst was the precise thing which haunted him: the exact urge which +made him want to break away from a serfdom that held him always chained +to his temptation. + +"Ye thinks ye're too much like Abe Lincoln ter make blockade licker," +went on the angry parent, "but ye hain't above rampagin' about these +hills seekin' trouble an' raisin' up enemies whar I've done spent my +days aimin' ter consort peaceable with my neighbors. Hit hain't been +but a week since ye broke Ratler Webb's nose." + +"Hit come about in fair fight--fist an' skull, an' I only hit him +oncet." + +"Nobody else didn't feel compelled ter hit him even oncet, did they?" + +"Mebby not--but he was seekin' ter bulldoze me an' he hurt my feelin's. +I'd done laughed hit off twic't." + +"An' so ye're a-goin' on a-layin' up trouble erginst ther future. Hit +hain't ther _makin'_ of licker thet's laid a curse on these hills. +Hit's _drinkin'_ hit. Ef a man kin walk abroad nowadays without totin' +his rifle-gun an' a-dreadin' ther shot from the la'rel, hit's because +men like me hev sought day an' night ter bring about peace. I counseled +a truce in ther Stacy-Towers war because I war a Christian an' I didn't +'low thet God favored bloodshed. But ther truce won't hardly last ef ye +goes about stirrin' up ructions. + +"Bear Cat Stacy!" stormed the older man furiously as his anger fed upon +itself. "What air a bear cat anyways? Hit's a beast thet rouses up from +sleep an' crosses a mountain fer ther pure pleasure of tearin' out some +other critter's throat an' vitals. Hit's a varmint drove on by ther +devil's own sperit of hatefulness. + +"Even in ther feud days men warred with clean powder an' lead, but +sich-like fightin' don't seem ter satisfy ye. Ye hain't got no use fer +a rifle-gun. Ye wants ter tear men apart with yore bare hands an' ter +plumb rend 'em asunder! I've trod ther streets of Marlin Town with ye, +an' watched yore eyes burnin' like hot embers, until peaceable men drew +back from ye an' p'inted ye out ter strangers. 'Thar goes ther Bear +Cat,' they'd whisper. 'Give him ther whole road!' Even ther town +marshal walked in fear of ye an' war a-prayin' ter God Almighty ye +wouldn't start nothin'." + +"I don't never seek no fight." This time Turner Stacy spoke without +shame. "I don't never have no trouble save whar I'm plumb _obleeged_ +ter hev hit." + +"Thet's what Kinnard Towers always 'lowed," was the dry retort, "though +he's killed numerous men, and folks says he's hired others killed, +too." + +The boy met the accusing glance and answered quietly: + +"Ye don't favor peace no more than what I do." + +"I've aimed ter be both God-fearin' an' law-abidin'," continued the +parent whose face and figure might have been cast in bronze as a type +of the American pioneer, "yet ye censures me fer makin' untaxed +licker!" His voice trembled with a repressed thunder of emotion. + +"I've seed times right hyar on this creek when fer ther most part of a +whole winter we hurted fer salt an' thar warn't none to be had fer love +nor money. Thar warn't no money in these hills nohow--an' damn'-little +love ter brag about. Yore maw an' me an' Poverty dwelt hyar +tergether--ther three of us. We've got timber an' coal an' no way ter +git hit ter market. Thar's jest only one thing we kin turn inter money +or store-credit--an' thet's our corn run inter white licker." + +He paused as if awaiting a reply and when his son volunteered none he +swept on to his peroration. "When I makes hit now I takes numerous +chances, an' don't complain. Some revenuer, a-settin' on his hunkers, +takin' life easy an' a-waitin' fer a fist full of blood money is liable +ter meet up in ther highway with some feller thet's nursin' of a grudge +erginst me or you. Hit's plumb risky an' hits damn'-hard work, but hit +hain't no wrong-doin' an' ef yore grandsires an' yore father hain't +been above hit, I rekon _you_ hain't above hit neither." + +Turner Stacy was still standing on the porch, with one finger marking +the place where he had left off reading his biography of Lincoln--the +master of men. + +Born of a line of stoics, heir to laconic speech and reared to stifle +emotions, he was inarticulate and the somberness of his eyes, which +masked a pageantry of dreams and a surging conflict in his breast, +seemed only the surliness of rebellion. + +He looked at his father and his mother, withered to sereness by their +unrelenting battle with a life that had all been frostbite until even +their power of resentment for its injustice had guttered out and dried +into a dull acceptance. + +His fingers gripped the book. Abraham Lincoln had, like himself, +started life in a log house and among crude people. Probably he, too, +had in those early days no one who could give an understanding ear to +the whispering voices that urged him upward. At first the urge itself +must have been blurred of detail and shadowy of object. + +Turner's lips parted under an impulse of explanation, and closed again +into a more hopelessly sullen line. The older man had chafed too long +in heavy harness to comprehend a new vision. Any attempt at +self-expression would be futile. + +So the picture he made was only that of a headstrong and wilful junior +who had listened unmoved to reason, and a mounting resentment kindled +in the gaze of the bearded moonshiner. + +"I've done aimed ter talk reason with ye," barked the angry voice, "an' +hit don't seem ter convince ye none. Ef ther pattern of life I've sot +ye hain't good enough, do ye think ye're better than yore maw, too?" + +"I didn't never say ye warn't good enough." The boy found himself +freezing into defiant stiffness under this misconstruction until his +very eagerness to be understood militated against him. + +"Wa'al, I'll tell ye a thing I don't talk a heap about. Hit's a thing +thet happened when ye was a young baby. I spent two y'ars in prison +then fer makin' white whiskey." + +"You!" Turner Stacy's eyes dilated with amazement and the older face +hardened with a baleful resentment. + +"Hit warn't jest bein' put in ther jail-house thet I kain't fergit ner +fergive so long as I goes on livin'. Hit war ther _reason_. Ye talks +mighty brash erbout ther sacredness of ther Revenue laws--wa'al, listen +ter me afore ye talks any more." He paused and then continued, as if +forcing himself to an unwelcome recital. + +"I've always borne the name hyarabouts of bein' a law-abidin' citizen +and a man thet could be trusted. I'd hoped ter bring peace to the +mountings, but when they lawed me and sent me down to Looeyville fer +trial, ther Govern_ment_ lawyer 'lowed thet sence I was a prominent +citizen up hyar a-breakin' of the law, they had ought to make a sample +of me. Because my reputation was good I got two y'ars. Ef hit hed been +bad, I mout hev come cl'ar." + +The son took an impulsive step forward, but with an imperious wave of +the hand, his father halted him and the chance for a sympathetic +understanding was gone. + +"Hold on! I hain't quite done talkin' yit. In them days we war livin' +over ther ridge, whar Little Ivy heads up. You thinks this hyar's a +pore fashion of dwellin'-house, but _thet_ one hed jest a single room +an' na'ry a winder in all hits four walls. You're maw war right ailin' +when they tuck me away ter ther big Co'te an' she war mighty young, +too, an' purty them days afore she broke. Thar warn't no man left ter +raise ther crops, an' _you_ ra'red like a young calf ef ye didn't git +yore vittles reg'lar. + +"I reckon mebby ye hain't hardly got no proper idee how long two y'ars +kin string out ter be when a man's sulterin' behind bars with a young +wife an' a baby thet's liable ter be starvin' meanwhile! I reckon ye +don't hardly realize how I studied down thar in prison about ther snow +on these Godforsaken hillsides an' ther wind whirrin' through ther +chinks. But mebby ye _kin_ comprehend this hyar fact. _You'd_ hev +pintedly starved ter death, ef yore maw hedn't rigged up a new still in +place of ther one the Govern_ment_ confiscated, an' made white licker +all ther time I was down thar sarvin' time. _She_ did thet an' paid off +ther interest on the mortgage an' saved a leetle mite for me erginst +ther day when I come home. Now air ye sich a sight better then yore maw +was?" + +A yellow flood of sunlight fell upon the two figures and threw into a +relief of high lights their two faces; one sternly patriarchal and +rugged, the other vitally young and spare of feature. + +Corded arteries appeared on Bear Cat's temples and, as he listened, the +nails of his fingers bit into the flesh of his palms, but his father +swept on, giving him no opportunity to reply. + +"My daddy hed jest shortly afore been lay-wayed an' killed by some +Towers murderer, an' his property had done been parceled out amongst +his children. Thar wasn't but jest fourteen of us ter heir hit an' +nobody got much. When they tuck me down ter ther big Co'te I had ter +hire me a lawyer--an' thet meant a mortgage. Yore maw hedn't, up ter +then, been used ter sich-like slavish poverty. She could hev married +mighty nigh any man in these parts--an' she tuck me. + +"Whilst I war a-layin' thar in jail a-tormentin' myself with my +doubtin' whether either one of ye would weather them times alive, _she_ +was a-runnin' ther still hyar in my stead. Many's the day she tromped +over them hills through ther snow an' mud with _you_ a-whimperin' on +her breast an' wropped in a shawl thet she needed her own self. Many's +ther night she tromped back ergin an' went hongry ter bed, so's _you_ +could have plenty ter eat, when thar warn't sca'cely enough ter divide +betwixt ye. But them things _she_ did in famine days, _you're_ too +sanctified ter relish now." + +Turner Stacy trembled from head to foot. It seemed to him that he could +see that grim picture in retrospect and despite his stoic's training +his eyes burned with unshed tears. Loyalty to kith and kin is the +cornerstone of every mountain man's religion, the very grail of his +faith. Into his eyes blazed a tawny, tigerish light, but words choked +in his throat and his father read, in his agitation, only a defiance +which was no part of his thought. + +"Now, see hyar," he went on with mounting autocracy, "I've done told ye +things I don't oftentimes discuss. I've done reasoned with ye an' now I +commands ye! Ye hain't of age yit and until ye do be, ye've got to do +as I bids ye. Atter that, ef ye aims to turn yore back on yore family +ye can do hit, an' I reckon we can go our two ways. That's all I got to +say to ye. Now pick up that sack of gryste an' be gone with hit." + +The boy's face blackened and his muscles tautened under the arrogant +domineering of the edict. For a moment he neither spoke nor stirred +from his place, though his chest heaved with the fulness of his +breathing. The elder man moved ominously forward and his tone was +violently truculent. + +"Air ye goin' ter obey me or do I hev ter _make_ ye? Thar's a sayin' +thet come acrost ther waters thet no man kin lick his own daddy. I +reckon hit still holds good." + +Still the son remained as unmoving as bronze while his eyes sustained +unflinchingly the wrathful gaze of a patriarchal order. Then he spoke +in a voice carefully schooled to quietness. + +"As to thet sayin'," he suggested evenly, "I reckon mebbe hit mought be +disproved, but I hain't aimin' to try hit. Ye've done said some +right-hard things to-day an' some thet wasn't hardly justified--but I +aims ter fergit 'em." + +Suddenly, by virtue of a leaping light in his eyes, the boy in jeans +and hodden-gray stood forth strangely transfigured. Some spirit +revelation seemed to have converted him into a mystifying incarnation +of latent, if uncomprehended power. It was as startling as though a +road-side beggar had tossed aside a drab cloak and hood of rags and +revealed beneath it, the glitter of helmet and whole armor. + +"I aims ter fergit hit all," he repeated. "But don't seek ter fo'ce me +ner ter drive me none--fer thet's a thing I kain't hardly suffer. As +fur as a man kin go outen loyalty I'll go fer _you_--but I've got ter +go in my own fashion--an' of my own free will. Ye've done said that I +went erbout seekin' trouble an' I hain't got no doubt ye believes what +ye says albeit most of hit's false. Ye says I lays drunk sometimes. +Thet's true an' hit's a shameful thing fer a man ter admit, but hit's a +thing I've got ter fight out fer myself. Hit don't profit neither of us +fer ye ter vilify me." + +He broke off abruptly, his chest heaving, and to Lone Stacy it seemed +that the air was electrically charged, as with the still tensity that +goes, windless and breathless, before the bursting of thunder heads +among the crags. Then Bear Cat spoke again somewhat gropingly and with +inarticulate faultiness, as though a flood pressure were seeking egress +through a choked channel. The words were crude, but back of them was a +dammed-up meaning like the power of hurricane and forest fire. "Thar's +somethin' in me--I don't know how ter name it--thar's somethin' in me +sort of strugglin' an' a-drivin' me like a torment! Thet weakness fer +licker--I hates hit like--like all hell--but I hain't _all_ weakness! +Thet thing, whatever hit be--sometimes jest when hit seems like hit +ought ter raise me up--hit crushes me down like the weight of ther +mountings themselves." + +He wheeled suddenly and disappeared into the house where he deposited +his book on the mantel-shelf and from behind the door swung a grain +sack to his shoulder. Then he left the house. + +Lone Stacy turned to his wife and lifted his hands with a gesture of +baffled perplexity as he inquired, "Does ye understand ther boy? He's +our own blood an' bone, but sometimes I feels like I was talkin' ter a +person from a teetotally diff'rent world. Nobody round hyar don't +comprehend him. I've even heered hit norated round amongst foolish +folks thet he talks with graveyard ha'nts an' hes a witch-craft charm +on his life. Air he jest headstrong, maw, or air he so master big thet +we kain't comprehend him? No man hain't never called me a coward, but +thar's spells when I'm half-way skeered of my own boy." + +"Mebby," suggested the woman quietly, "ef ye gentled him a leetle mite +he wouldn't contrary ye so much." + +Lone Stacy nodded his head and spoke with a grim smile. "Seems like +I've got ter be eternally blusterin' at him jest ter remind myself thet +I'm ther head of this fam'ly. Ef I didn't fo'ce myself ter git mad, I'd +be actin' like he was my daddy instid of me bein' his'n." + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +The afternoon was half spent and the sun, making its way toward the +purpled ridges of the west, was already casting long shadows athwart +the valleys. Along a trail which wound itself in many tortuous twists +across forested heights and dipped down to lose itself at intervals in +the creek bed of Little Slippery, a mounted traveler rode at a +snail-like pace. The horse was a lean brute through whose rusty coat +the ribs showed in under-nourished prominence, but it went +sure-footedly up and down broken stairways of slimy ledges where tiny +waterfalls licked at its fetlocks and along the brinks of chasms where +the sand shelved with treacherous looseness. + +The rider, a man weather-rusted to a drab monotone, slouched in his +saddle with an apathetic droop which was almost stupor, permitting his +reins to flap loosely. His face, under an unclean bristle of beard, +wore a sleepy sneer and his eyes were bloodshot from white whiskey. + +As he rode, unseeing, through the magnificent beauty of the Cumberlands +his glance was sluggish and his face emotionless. But at last the +horse halted where a spring came with a crystal gush out of the +rhododendron thickets, and then Ratler Webb's stupefaction yielded to +a semi-wakefulness of interest. He rubbed a shoddy coat-sleeve across +his eyes and straightened his stooped shoulders. The old horse had +thrust his nose thirstily into the basin with evident eagerness to +drink. Yet, after splashing his muzzle about for a moment he refused +refreshment and jerked his head up with a snort of disgust. A leering +smile parted the man's lips over his yellow and uneven teeth: + +"So ye won't partake of hit, old Bag-o'-bones, won't ye?" he inquired +ironically. "Ye hain't nobody's brag critter to look at, but I reckon +some revenue fellers mought be willin' to pay a master price fer ye. Ye +kin stand at ther mouth of a spring-branch an' smell a still-house +cl'ar up on hits headwaters, kain't ye?" + +For a while Webb suffered the tired horse to stand panting in the creek +bed, while his own eyes, lit now with a crafty livening, traveled up +the hillside impenetrably masked with verdure, where all was silence. +Somewhere up along the watercourse was the mash-vat and coil which had +contaminated this basin for his mount's brute fastidiousness: an +illicit distillery. This man clad in rusty store clothes was not +inspired with a crusading ardor for supporting the law. He lived among +men whose community opinion condones certain offenses--and pillories +the tale-bearer. But above the ethical bearing of local standards and +Federal Statutes, alike, loomed a matter of personal hatred, which +powerfully stimulated his curiosity. He raised one hand and +thoughtfully stroked his nose--recently broken with workman-like +thoroughness and reset with amateurish imperfection. + +"Damn thet Bear Cat Stacy," he muttered, as he kicked his weary mount +into jogging motion. "I reckon I'll hev my chance at him yit. I'm jest +a-waitin' fer hit." + +A half-mile further on, he suddenly drew rein and remained in an +attitude of alert listening. Then slipping quietly to the ground, he +hitched his horse in the concealment of a deep gulch and melted out of +sight into the thicket. Soon he sat crouched on his heels, invisible in +the tangled laurel. His place of vantage overlooked a foot-path so +little traveled as to be hardly discernible, but shortly a figure came +into view around a hulking head of rock, and Ratler Webb's smile +broadened to a grin of satisfaction. The figure was tall and spare and +it stooped as it plodded up the ascent under the weight of a heavy sack +upon its shoulders. The observer did not move or make a sound until the +other man had been for several minutes out of sight. He was engaged in +reflection. + +"So, thet's how ther land lays," he ruminated. "Bear Cat Stacy's totin' +thet gryste over to Bud Jason's tub-mill on Little Ivy despite ther +fact thet thar's numerous bigger mills nigher to his house. Thet sack's +full of _sprouted_ corn, and he dasn't turn it in at no _reg'lar_ mill. +Them Stacys air jest about blockadin' up thet spring-branch." + +He spat at a toad which blinked beadily up at him and then, rising from +his cramped posture, he commented, "I hain't plumb dead sartin yet, but +I aims ter be afore sun-up ter-morrer." + +Bear Cat Stacy might have crossed the ridge that afternoon by a less +devious route than the one he followed. In so doing he would have saved +much weariness of leg and ache of burdened shoulder, but Ratler Webb's +summing up had been correct, and though honest corn may follow the +highways, sprouted grain must go by blinder trails. + +When he reached the backbone of the heights, he eased the jute sack +from his shoulders to the ground and stretched the cramp out of his +arms. Sweat dripped from his face and streamed down the brown throat +where his coarse shirt stood open. He had carried a dead weight of +seventy pounds across a mountain, and must carry back another as heavy. + +Now he wiped his forehead with his shirt-sleeve and stood looking away +with a sudden distraction of dreaminess. A few more steps would take +him again into the steamy swelter of woods where no breath of breeze +stirred the still leafage, and even in the open spaces the afternoon +was torridly hot. But here he could sweep with his eyes league upon +league of a vast panorama where sky and peak mingled in a glory of +purple haze. Unaccountably the whole beauty of it smote him with a +sense of undefined appreciation and grateful wonderment. The cramp of +heart was eased and the groping voices of imagination seemed for the +time no longer tortured nightmares of complaint. + +There was no one here to censor his fantasies and out of the gray eyes +went their veiling sullenness and out of the lips their taut grimness. +Into eyes and lips alike came something else--something touched with +the zealousness of aspiration. + +"Hit's right over thar!" he murmured aloud but in a voice low pitched +and caressing of tone. "I've got ter get me money enough ter buy thet +farm offen Kinnard Towers." + +He was looking down upon a point far below him where through a cleared +space flashed the shimmer of flowing water, and where in a small pocket +of acreage, the bottom ground rolled in gracious amenability to the +plow and harrow. + +Again he nodded, and since he was quite alone he laughed aloud. + +"She 'lows thet's ther place whar she wants ter live at," he added to +himself, "an' I aims ter satisfy her." + +So after all some of his day-dreams were tangible! + +He realized that he ought to be going on, yet he lingered and after a +few moments he spoke again, confiding his secrets to the open woods and +the arching skies--his only confidants. + +"Blossom 'lowed yestiddy she was a-goin' over ter Aunt Jane Colby's +this mornin'. 'Pears like she ought ter be passin' back by hyar about +this time." + +Cupping his hands at his lips, he sent out a long whoop, but before he +did that he took the precaution of concealing his sack of sprouted +grain under a ledge. Then he bent listening for an answer--but without +reward, and disappointment mantled in his gray eyes as he dropped to +the age-corroded rock and sat with his hands clasped about his updrawn +knees. + +It was very still there, except for the industrious hammering of a +"peckerwood" on a decayed tree trunk, and the young mountaineer sat +almost as motionless as his pedestal. + +Then without warning a lilting peal of laughter sounded at his back and +Turner came to his feet. As he wheeled he saw Blossom Fulkerson +standing there above him and her eyes were dancing with the mischievous +delight of having stalked him undiscovered. + +"It's a right happy thing fer you, Turner Stacy, that I didn't aim ter +kill ye," she informed him with mock solemnity. "I've heered ye brag +thet no feller hereabouts could slip up on ye in the woods, +unbeknownst." + +"I wasn't studyin' erbout nobody slippin' up on me. Blossom," he +answered calmly. "I hain't got no cause ter be a-hidin' out from +nobody." + +She was standing with the waxen green of the laurel breaking into pink +flower-foam at her back and through the oak and poplar branches showed +scraps of blue sky--the blue of June. + +A catch came into Turner's voice and he said somewhat huskily, "When +they christened ye Blossom they didn't misname ye none." + +Blossom, he thought, was like a wild-rose growing among sun-flowers. +When the evening star came up luminous and dewy-fresh over the +darkening peaks, while twilight still lingered at the edges of the +world, he always thought of her. + +But the charm was not all in his own eye: not all the magic endowment +of first love. The mountain preacher's daughter had escaped those +slovenly habits of backwoods life that inevitably coarsen. Her beauty +had slender strength and flower freshness. + +Now she stood holding with one hand to the gnarled branch of a dogwood +sapling. A blue sunbonnet falling back from her head left the abundance +of her hair bared to the light so that it shimmered between brown and +gold. + +She was perhaps sixteen and her heavily lashed eyes were brownish amber +and just now full of a mirthful sparkle. + +"Ye seemed ter be studyin' about somethin' almighty hard," she insisted +teasingly. "I thought for a minute that mebbe ye'd done growed thar." + +Turner Stacy smiled again as he looked at her. In his eyes was unveiled +and honest worship. + +"I was a'studyin' about you, Blossom. I don't know no way ter do that +save almighty hard. Didn't ye hear me whoop?" + +The girl's head nodded. + +"Why didn't ye answer me?" + +"I aimed ter slip up on ye, if I could, Turner, but I didn't low it +would be so plumb easy.--You made believe that yore ears could hear the +grass a-growin'." + +The youth took a sudden step toward her and stood close, so close that +her breath touched his face fragrantly as she looked up with a witching +mockery in her eyes. His heart fluttered with the clamor of impulse to +seize her in his arms, but his half-lifted hands dropped to his sides. + +He was not quite twenty-one and she was only sixteen, and the code of +the mountains is strict with the simplicity of the pioneer. A woman +gives her lips in betrothal or, giving them lightly, drops to the caste +of a light woman. + +So the boy drew back with a resolute jerk of his head. + +"I was a-studyin' erbout some day, Blossom," he said, "when thar's +a-goin' ter be a dwellin'-house down thar. Not a house of warped +timbers whar the hawgs scratch their backs under the floors--but a +_real_ house. Mebby by thet day an' time thar'll be a highway men kin +travel without torment." As he paused, at a loss for power of +architectural enlargement, the girl sighed. + +"Then I reckon ye don't hardly 'low ter raise thet house in my +lifetime, Turner," she teased. "I'll most likely be too old ter visit +ye thar afore a highway gits built." + +But he shook his head. "I aims ter speed up ther comin' of sich +things," he announced with the splendid effrontery of youth. "Hit +hain't been so long since ther fust wagon crossed Cedar Mountain. We're +liable to see balloons comin' afore we die." + +"Aunt Jane Colby was tellin' me about that first wagon to-day at +dinner," Blossom assented. "She says one old man asked folks whether it +was true or whether he was fitified. He said: 'What manner of +_contrivance_ air thet? Hit's got four wheels an' one pair's bigger +then t'other pair, an' two of 'em goes round faster then t'other two +an' the Lord A'mighty only knows how hit manages ter keep up with +hitself.'" + +They both laughed with young condescension for the old-fashioned and +then Turner went on, haltingly by reason of callow diffidence. + +"Ef thet house couldn't be reared in time fer _you_ ter come to hit, +Blossom--hit wouldn't be no manner of use ter me a-tall." + +"Does ye aim ter make me a present of a house?" she challenged and +again the provocative allurement of her swept him so that the smooth +sinews of his arms tightened as if with physical effort. + +"I means thet someday--when I've done something worth doin' an' when +ye're a leetle bit older yoreself, Blossom, you're agoin' ter marry me, +an' we're goin' ter dwell thar--together." + +The girl's cheeks reddened furiously and for a moment she made no +response, then she declared with a stout self-assertion designed to +mask her confusion, "I reckon I'll hev somethin' ter say about thet." + +"Ye'll have _everything_ ter say about hit, Blossom, but"--there was a +purposeful ring in his voice that hinted at ultimate victory--"but some +day I aims ter persuade ye ter say, 'yes.'" + +Her cheeks were brightly pink and she pretended to be engrossed in the +demeanor of a squirrel that chattered quarrelsomely at them from a +nearby poplar. Turner Stacy dropped his voice until it was very soft. + +"I kin bide my time an' wait twell ye're ready, Blossom, but if ye +don't _never_ say hit, I don't hardly see how I kin go on livin'." + +"I'm right glad ef ye likes me, Turner," she demurely assured him. +"We've growed up together an' ef ye was to go away somewhar's an' leave +me, I reckon I'd nigh die of lonesomeness." + +Distrust of effusiveness was bred in his bone. Laconic utterance was +his heritage, and now that his heart demanded expression and his eyes +kindled with the dreamer's fire, he stood struggling against the +fettering of his tongue. Then abruptly, tumultuously he burst out, +talking fast. + +"I hain't got ther gift of speech, Blossom; I only knows thet hit +hain't enough ter jest have ye miss me ef I went away. I knows thet +when ye stands thar with ther sun on yore hair hit would be springtime +fer me, even ef thar war snow on ther hillsides an' ice in ther creek. +I knows thet I'm standin' hyar on solid rock. Yore paw says these-hyar +hills were old when ther Alps hadn't riz up yit outen ther waters, but +when I looks at ye, Blossom, this mountain's shakin' under me ... an' +yore face is ther only thing thet's steady afore my eyes." + +He broke off with something like a choke in his throat and Blossom was +trembling a little under that first impact of new emotion that comes +with the waking of the senses. Then she remembered the stories of his +escapades and her eyes clouded. Her hand fell flutteringly on his arm. + +"If--if ye cares thet much about me, Turner, I wish--I don't aim ter +nag ye--but I wish ye'd promise me thet ye won't give men cause ter say +ye drinks too much." + +Turner's brow contracted and his lips stiffened. The defensive mask +which seemed sullen because it was his idea of impassiveness set itself +again, but he nodded. + +"Thet's a fair thing," he said slowly at last. "Drinkin' hain't hardly +a thing a gal kin understand noways. I hain't jest a common drunkard, +Blossom. Thar's times though when I feels es ef I war a-livin' in a +jail-house--an' seekin' ter git free. Thar's su'thin' in me--I don't +know jest what--thet's always fightin'. These hyar hills with their +ign'rance an' dirt an' poverty seems ter be on top of me 'stid of +underneath me. Thet's when I drinks too much. Fer a little spell I +seems ter dream I'm free." + +A few minutes later the girl started down the "yon" side of the wooded +slope, going with a light step and humming a ballade that had come +across the sea with the beginnings of America, and the boy looked after +her with a passionate tenderness that was far from stoical. + +If most of his dreams were intangible and misty, this, his greatest and +brightest dream, was at least clear and vivid. + +When he could no longer see the flash of her blue dress between the +interlacing branches he turned, and drawing his sack of sprouted corn +out of its hiding place, hefted it to his shoulders. He would have to +hurry now to finish his task and get back by dusk. + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +Old man Bud Jason stood at the door of his tub-mill, leaning on the +long hickory staff which he always carried. He stood gauntly tall even +now that his once-broad shoulders sagged and his mane of hair was +white, and from his lips came a querulous mumbling as though he were +awaiting some one tardy of arrival. At last, though, he gave a grunt of +relief when the thicket far above him stirred and the figure of Bear +Cat Stacy appeared, bending under his load of grist. + +He turned then into the shack and drew out a sack of meal from the +bottom of a pile, and as he finished this task a shadow fell across the +door. Turner Stacy let his burden fall and availed himself of the +opportunity to drop into a sitting posture on the step of the shanty, +resting his back against a post. His broad chest heaved and a profound +sigh of relief broke from his panting lips. The old miller stood +regarding him for a little while without words, then broke into +volcanic utterance: + +"Hell's banjer! May God Almighty holp a country whar a young pa'r of +shoulders like your'n don't find no worthier use than man-powerin' good +corn acrost ther ridges ter turn hit inter bad licker." + +Turner Stacy glanced up with mild surprise for the sentiment. + +"I hain't nuver heered ye cavil with a man's license ter use his own +corn as he sees fit, afore, Bud," was his casual reply, and the +white-bearded one wagged his head and laughed tremulously after the +fashion of the old. + +"I reckon ye don't mistrust me none, Bear Cat, even ef I does hit now, +but here of late I've cogitated a heap whilst I've been a-settin' hyar +listenin' ter ther creak of that old mill. Seems almost like ther wheel +was a-lamentin' over hits job. Thar bein' sich a sight of wickedness in +ther community whar my grand-children hes got ter be reared up is a +powerful solemn thing fer me ter study over, an' I've jes erbout +concluded thet whilst ther whiskey-makin' goes on ther killin's an +gin'ral wickedness won't hardly diminish none." + +Furrows of dubious thought etched themselves on the young man's +forehead. + +"Ef ye feels thet-a-way, Bud, why does yer consent ter grind corn fer +blockaders?" he demanded, and the reply was prompt: + +"I don't grind hit only fer a few men thet I'm beholden to." Pausing a +moment, he became more specific. "Yore paw stood over my body onct when +I'd done been shot outen my saddle, an' fought off numerous enemies +single-handed, thereby savin' me from death in ther creekbed. I +couldn't hardly deny him ther use of my mill even ef his corn _hes_ got +sprouts in ther grain two inches long, now, could I?" + +The boy looked abstractedly away, then suddenly blurted out: "I +disgusts blockadin', too, Bud, but pap 'lows hit's ther only way ter +mek a livin' hyarabouts." + +"Lots of folks argues hit out in like fashion, but I don't hold with +'em." The speaker rapped the boards with his long staff and spoke with +conviction. "What these mountings needs air a mite of l'arnin' an' a +leetle common sense an' a heap of good roads. Ef prosperity ever comes +ter these hills, sonny, hit'll come along a highway--an' so long as +stills don't thrive none along highways, hit looks mightily like a +sorry chance." After a thoughtful pause he added, "Hit won't never +change, so long es hits only furriners thet aims ter alter hit. +Revenuers kain't do nothin'. Damn thar skunk hides anyhow! They're our +mortal enemies." The old man drew himself up as if he were seeing a +vision and his eyes held an almost fanatical gleam. "But mark down my +words! Some day thar'll rise up a mountain man--a man thet hain't never +met up with fear an thet's as steadfast as ther hills he sprung from. +_Thet_ man will change hit all, like ther sun changes fog. I wisht I +mout live ter see thet day." + +"Hit'll tek a powerful towerin' man ter bring sich things ter pass," +mused the listener and the oracle declared vehemently: + +"Hit teks a powerful towerin' man ter lead any fight ter victory, +whether hit's a-guidin' ther Children of Israel outen thar bondage or +our benighted children outen thars." + +Suddenly the miller laid a trembling hand on the boy's arm and demanded +in a hushed voice: "Why shouldn't hit be you, Bear Cat? Folks says ye +bears a charmed life, thet thar hain't enough lead in ther mountings +ter kill ye. I heered Kinnard Towers say with my own ears, thet hit war +a God's blessin' ther feud ended afore ye got yore growth--an' Kinnard +don't fear many. When a man thet's hardly nothin' but a saplin' of a +boy bears a repute like thet--hit must denote thet thar's power in him +beyond ther common!" + +The boy stood silent for a moment and slowly his brow drew into a black +scowl. + +"I reckon, Bud, one reason air this," he said bitterly, "thet I'm +accounted ter be a drunkard my own self an' like as not, one sich +reason es thet air plenty." + +Turner glanced up to the bristling ridge which he must climb. Already +the west was kindling into a flare of richness and the skyline hills +were dyed with ashy purple. + +"I've done over-tarried," he said abruptly, as he lifted his sack from +the floor, but his face wore a glow which was not altogether from the +sinking sun. "I reckon I'd better be on my way--but I hain't denyin' +thet I've done hed thoughts like your'n myself, Bud." + +But young Stacy had not gone far when that sense of intensified +woodcraft which Blossom had derided caused him to halt dead in his +tracks. + +The sound that had first arrested him had been nothing more than a +laugh, but, in it, he had recognized a quality that bespoke derisive +hostility and a thickness that indicated drink. + +He had left the place empty except for Old Bud Jason and no one could +have reached it, unannounced by normal sounds, so soon unless the +approach had been achieved by stealth. + +Bear Cat Stacy put down his sack and worked his way back, holding the +concealment of rock and laurel; guarding each footfall against the +betrayal of a broken twig--and, as yet, denied a view of the tub-mill. +But his cars were open and doing duty for his eyes. + +"Wa'al," came the miller's voice in a wrathful tremolo, "what business +brings ye hyar es ef ye war aimin' ter lay-way somebody? Folks +gin'rally comes hither upstandin'--an' open." + +This time the voice of the new arrival was sneeringly truculent: + +"Does they come thet-a-way when they fotches in sprouted corn thet they +dastn't take elsewhere?" + +Bear Cat stiffened as he recognized the voice of Ratler Webb, whom he +had not met since their encounter in which a nose had been broken. He +knew that in the breast of this man, hitherto unchallenged as +neighborhood bully, an ugly and dangerous grudge was festering. + +Now it seemed that the old miller, because of friendship for the Stacys +was to be heckled, and Bear Cat's wrath boiled. He heard Bud Jason +inquiring in tones no longer querulous but firmly indignant: + +"Is thet all ye come fer? Ter blackguard me?" + +Ratler answered in a voice savoring more of highwayman's coercion than +request. + +"I was jest a-funnin' with ye, Old Bud, but I'd be mighty obleeged ter +ye fer a leetle dram of licker. My bottle's nigh empty an' I've got a +far way ter travel yit." + +Turner Stacy had now arrived at a point from which he could see around +the hulking shoulder of sandstone and the picture which met his eye was +not reassuring. + +The miller stood barring the door to his shack and the visitor, +inflamed of eye, a little unsteady on his feet, confronted him with a +swagger of lawless daredeviltry. + +"I hain't got no licker. I don't never use hit," replied Jason curtly. +"So ef thet's all thet brought ye hyar, ye've already got yore answer +an' ye mout es well be farin' on." + +Webb's leer darkened to malignity and his voice came in a snarl. + +"Ye hain't hardly got no tolerance fer drinkin', hes ye, Bud? Albeit ye +hain't none too sanctified ter grind up all ther sprouted corn thet +other fellers fotches in ter ye." + +The old fellow was alone and unarmed save for his hickory staff, but he +was vested with that authority which stiffens a man, standing on his +own threshold and facing an insolent trespasser. His manner was +choleric and crisp in its note of command. + +"I don't aim ter waste no time cavilin' with a drunken carouser. I bids +ye ter leave my place. Begone!" + +But the traveler, inflamed with the venom of the drunken bully, lurched +forward, whipping a revolver from its sagging pocket. With an oath he +rammed the muzzle close against the pit of the other's stomach. + +Bud's level eyes did not falter. He gripped his useless hickory as if +it had been a lictor's staff of unchallengeable office. Perhaps that +steady moment saved his life, for before his assailant's flood of +obscene vilification had reached its period, Ratler Webb leaped +back--interrupted. He changed front, wheeling to protect his back +against the logs of the rude wall and thrusting his pistol before him, +while his jaw sagged abruptly in dismay. + +Bear Cat stood facing him, ten yards distant, and his right hand was +thrust into his opened shirt, under the armpit, where the mountain man +carries his holster. That the position of the hand was a bluff, +covering an unarmed helplessness, Ratler Webb did not know. + +"Air ye follerin' revenuin' these days, Ratler?" inquired Stacy in a +voice of such velvet softness that the other responded only with an +incoherent snarl. "Because ef ye air, numerous folks hyarabouts will be +right glad ter find out who it is that's informin' on 'em." + +"Damn ye! Keep thet hand whar hit's at!" ordered the aggressor +violently and like the cornered rat he had become doubly dangerous. He +had set out only to torture a defenseless victim, and now it seemed a +question of killing or being killed, so he loaded his voice with +truculence as he went on. + +"Ef ye seeks ter draw hit out or come a step frontwards, so help me +Almighty God I'll kill ye in yore tracks!" + +Turner Stacy smiled. Upon his ability to do so with a semblance of +quiet contempt he was staking everything. + +"Shoot whenever ye gits ready, Ratler," he challenged. "But don't do +hit onless ye're expectin' ter die, too. When this trigger-work +commences, I aims ter _git_ ye." + +"Move a hand or a foot then, an' see--" The voice was desperately high +pitched and nasal now, almost falsetto, but through its threat Bear Cat +recognized an undercurrent of sudden terror. The desperado remembered +that his horse stood hitched a quarter of a mile away. His right boot +sole had been freshly patched and left a clearly identifying mark in +the mud. He had prepared no alibi in advance, and within a few hours +after Turner fell scores of his kinsmen would be baying on the trail. + +"Shoot!" taunted Bear Cat Stacy. "Why don't ye shoot?"--and then with +an effrontery which dazed his antagonist, he deliberately moved several +steps forward--halting nearer the pistol's muzzle. + +"I don't aim ter kill ye onless I has ter," stormed Webb with weakening +assurance. "Halt! I'm givin' ye fa'r warnin'. Hit's self-d_ee_fense ef +ye crowds me." + +Stacy spoke again, standing once more motionless. + +"Ye couldn't shoot thet pistol at me ef I walked in on ye with my hands +over my head. My time hain't come yit ter die, because ther's things I +was born ter do--an' God Almighty aims ter hev me live till I've done +'em. He don't aim ter hev me hurt by no coward like you, I reckon. Ye +couldn't shoot any man noways whilst his eyes was lookin' full at ye. +Ye has need ter lay hid in ther la'rel afore ye kin pull yore trigger +finger. I dares ye to shoot!" + +The white-bearded miller stood motionless, too, measuring all the +chances. For a moment he wondered whether it would be possible to +strike up the armed hand with his long staff, but he wisely repressed +the impulse. This after all was a new sort of combat, a duel of wills +rather than of weapons. He knew that Bear Cat Stacy was unarmed because +he had so recently seen the sweat-drenched shirt clinging close to the +arched chest. + +Ratler Webb's hand no longer trembled with the uncertainty of +tipsiness. His eyes were no longer obfuscated and muddled with whiskey +fumes. He had reverted to the feral instincts of desperation--and was +suddenly sobered. + +He gripped his out-thrust pistol in both hands for greater surety and +half-crouched with knees bent under him, ready either to spring or +brace himself against attack. His eyes, gleaming with blood-passion, +traveled shiftily so that he could keep watch on both his possible +adversaries. + +The other and younger man stood upright, but his muscles, too, were +poised and balanced with all nicety of readiness and his eyes were +measuring the distance between: gauging sundry odds of life and death. + +For a moment more the tableau held in silence. Both the miller and the +boy could hear the labored, almost gasping breath of the man with the +pistol and both knew that the mean temper of his heart's metal was +weakening. + +Then when a squirrel barked from the timber, Ratler Webb started +violently and above the stubble of dirty beard, sweat drops began to +ooze on his face. + +Why didn't Bear Cat Stacy say something? Why didn't somebody move? If +he fired now he must kill both men or leave a witness to blab deadly +information close on the heels of his flight! In his heart welled a +rising tide of panic. + +Turner knew by instinct that every moment he could hold Ratler there +with his pistol leveled, was for the desperado, a moment of weakening +resolve and nerve-breaking suspense. But he also knew another thing. +When the strain of that waiting snapped Ratler would either run or +shoot. Mountain annals hold more instances of the latter decision that +the former, but that was the chance to be taken. + +Webb carried a notched gun. He had forced many fights in his day, but +in all of them there had been the swift tonic of action and little time +to think. Now he dared not lower his weapon in surrender--and he was +afraid to fire. He felt that his lips were growing dry and thickening. +He thrust out his tongue to lick them, and its red tip gave, to his +ugly features, a strange grotesqueness. + +Under the brown of wind and sun and the red of liquor-flush his face +paled perceptibly. Then it grew greenish yellow with a sick clamminess +of dread. + +At last with a discernible quaver in his voice he broke the unendurable +silence, and his words came brokenly and disjointed: + +"I didn't aim ter force no quarrel on ye, Bear Cat.... Ef ye plumb +compels me ter do hit, I've got ter kill ye, but I hain't a-hankerin' +none fer ther task." + +"Thet's a lie, too. Ye come hyar a-seekin' of _evidence_ because ye're +harborin' a grudge erginst me an' ye dastn't satisfy hit no other way." + +There was a pause, then Webb said slowly, and with a half-heartedness +from which all the effrontery had ebbed: + +"I 'lows ter go on erbout my business now, but if either one of ye +moves from whar ye're standin' twell I'm outen range I aims ter kill ye +both." + +Shifting his revolver to his right hand and feeling behind him with his +left, he began backing away, still covering his retreat and edging a +step at a time toward the corner of the shack, but at the second step, +with a swiftness which vindicated his name, the Bear Cat sprang. + +The old miller shook his head, but made no outcry. He heard the thud of +two bodies and the grunt driven from a chest by the impact of charging +shoulders. He saw two figures go down together while a tongue of flame +and a muffled roar broke belatedly from the mouth of the pistol. + +Whether the bullet had taken effect or, if so, who was its victim, he +could not at first distinguish. Two human beings, muscled like +razor-backs were writhing and twisting in a smother of dust, their +limbs clinched and their voices mingled in snarling and incoherent +savagery. The mountain ethics of "fist and skull" impose no Queensbury +restrictions. Tooth and knee, heel and knuckle may do their best--and +worst. + +But the pistol itself flew clear and the old miller picked it up, +turning again to observe the result of the encounter. + +The fighters had struggled up again to their feet and were locked in a +bone-breaking embrace of hatred. For the moment the advantage seemed to +rest with Webb, who was clutching Turner's head in the distressing +chancery of his powerful right arm and doing his utmost to break the +neck. Bear Cat's breathing was a hoarse and strangling agony, but his +fists battered like unremitting flails against the ribs and kidneys of +his antagonist. As they swayed and tottered their brogans were +ploughing up the hard soil and, totally blinded by sweat and rage, they +wavered perilously close to the edge of the huge rock--with its +ten-foot drop to the mill race. + +Even as Old Bud gave his warning cry, they went down together--and fell +short of the brink, escaping that danger. Stacy writhed free from the +neck-grip, and both came up again, leaping into a fresh embrace of +panthers, with eyes glaring insanely out of blood-smeared faces. + +Then it all ended abruptly. Bear Cat wrenched himself free and sent a +chance blow, but one behind which went all his weight and passion, to +the other's mouth. The smitten head went back with a jerk. Webb reeled +groggily for an instant, then crumpled, but before he had quite fallen +Stacy, with an insensate fury, was dragging him to his feet and +clutching at the throat which his fingers ached to strangle. + +At that instant, the old miller seized his arms. + +"Hold on thar, Bear Cat," he cried with his quavering voice. "He's +already licked. You'll kill him ef ye hain't heedful." + +"I _aims_ ter kill him," panted the boy, casting off the interference +of aged arms with the savagery of a dog whose fangs have been pried too +soon from the throat of its victim. + +But Bud Jason clung on, reiterating: "Fer shame, son! Thet hain't +_yore_ manner of conduct. Fer shame!" + +Unsteadily, then, with a slow dawning of reason Bear Cat Stacy +staggered back and leaned heavily against the wall of the tub-mill, +breathing in sob-like gasps. His shirt was half torn from his body and +for the first time the miller saw the ugly gash where a pistol bullet +had bitten its grazing course along his left shoulder. Grime and blood +stained him and for a while he stood gazing down on the collapsed +figure at his feet--a figure that stirred gropingly. + +"I reckon," he said slowly, "I'd jest about hev finished him, ef hit +hadn't a-been fer _you_, Bud. I'm beholden ter ye. I reckon I was +seein' red." + +Together they lifted Ratler Webb and gave him water from the gourd that +hung by the door. When he was able to stand, dourly resentful, baleful +of eye but mute as to tongue, Bear Cat spoke briefly with the victor's +authority: + +"I aims ter keep thet pistol o' your'n fer a spell, Ratler. I don't +hardly trust ye with hit jest yit. When ye wants hit, come by my house +and ask fer hit." + +The bully turned sullenly away. He spoke no word of farewell and +offered no protest, but when he was out of sight the miller shook his +head and his voice was troubled. + +"Of course ye knows, son, thet he hain't never agoin' ter fergit hit? +So long as ther two of ye lives ye've got ter keep on watchin' him." + +Turner nodded. He was bathing his shoulder and spreading cobwebs on its +grazed wound. + +"I've done wasted a heap of time," he said irrelevantly. "An' hit's +comin' on to rain, too. I reckon I'll be benighted afore I gets over +ter ther still." + +Starting away, he paused and turned shamefacedly back for a moment. + +"Hit won't profit us none to norrate this matter abroad," he suggested. +"I've got enough name already fer gittin' into ructions. Paw don't like +hit none." + +Gazing after the retreating figures the old man wagged his head and his +expression was one of foreboding. + +"Meanness an' grudge-nursin' kin bring on a heap of pestilence," he +mused. "This Ratler will nurse his on ther bottle, an' he won't never +wean hit--an' some day----! But it don't profit a feller ter borry +trouble. These hills hes got enough misfortunes withouten thet." + +Already twilight was settling over the valleys and the ridges were +starkly grim as their color died to the neutrality of night, and the +murk of a gathering storm. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +With a mutter of distant thunder in his ears, the young mountaineer +plodded "slavishly" on under his load as night closed about him. The +path twisted among heaped up bowlders where a misstep might mean broken +bones and crawled through entanglements of fallen timber: of gnarled +rhododendron and thorn-leaved holly. It wormed into dew-drenched +thicknesses where branches lashed the burden-bearer's face with the +sting of whips, and soon the colossal barriers began to echo with the +storm roar of high places. The clouds were ripped with the blue-white +blades of lightning. The rock walls of the ranges seemed quaking under +the thunder's incessant cannonading, and the wind's shrieking mania. +Then through the rent and buffeted timber-tops the rain burst in a +lashing curtain of water as violent as a shot-shower. + +Bear Cat Stacy, wet to the skin, with the steaming sweat of toil and +fight turned into a marrow-pinching chill, cast about him for a place +where he could protect his sack of meal until an abatement should come +to the storm's violence. + +As he sat under a dripping roof of shelving rock to which he had groped +his way by the beacon of the lightning, a startled owl swept past him, +almost brushing his face with its downy wings. + +His wet clothes hung to his flesh with what seemed icy coldness. His +shoulder throbbed with an abomination of pain and his bones ached with +a dull wretchedness. + +But after a time the wind and thunder dropped away to whimpering +echoes. It was as if the hound pack of the furies had been whistled in, +its hunt ended. + +Turner rose and stamped his numbed feet. There was yet a long way to go +before he arrived at the low-built shed, thatched with brush and +screened behind a fallen hemlock top, where the Stacy still lay hidden. + +At last he was there, with every muscle proclaiming its location by the +outcry of sore tissues, and ahead of him lay the task of watching and +feeding the fire under the mash kettle until dawn. + +"Ye kin lay down when ye're ready, Lee," he said shortly to the +stockily built man whom he was relieving from duty there. "I'll keep +ther fire goin' an' call ye round about dawn." + +Taking up the rifle to which he had fallen heir, as picket, he made his +way from the sentinel's shelter to the still-house itself, stooping +low, so that the waning fire might not throw his figure or face into +relief. He piled a handful of wood under the kettle and crawled back +into the timber. + +The heavens were full of stars now: not the small light-points of skies +arching over lowlands, but the gorgeous, great stars of the walled +highlands. + +His mother had done this sort of work to keep him alive, while his +father was in prison! If he went on doing it, and if Blossom married +him, they faced a future of the same drab decay! At the thought of that +prospect he ground his chattering teeth and cursed under his breath. + +The dull glow of the fire on a tin bucket and cup held his eyes with a +spell of fascination. It was white liquor, raw, sweetish and freshly +brewed. A gleam of craving flashed into his eyes: a craving that had +come down through generations of grandsires--even though his own father +had escaped it. Turner put out one hand, trembling with anticipation. + +Here was warmth! Here was to be had for the taking a glow about the +heart and a quickened current in the veins. Here was the stuff from +which ease and waking dreams would come; release from his aching chill +and dulness of spirit! + +Bear Cat's eyes burned thirstily. He seemed only a vessel of flesh +overflowing with craving--with a torture of craving--an utter hell of +craving! Then he drew back the eagerly extended hand. + +"No," he said grimly. "Blossom air right. Ther stuff'll ruin me." + +Resolutely he turned his back and stood facing the woods, listening to +the drip of drenched leafage. Through raw hours he struggled with his +appetite. Each time that he went back to throw fresh faggots on the +fire he moved warily around the bucket, seeking to keep his eyes +averted, but each time his gaze came back to it, and rested there +thirstily. + +Twice as his watch drew near its end he dipped the cup into the pail +only to spill back the contents again, almost wildly, watching the thin +trickle; and greedily sniffing its sweetish invitation of odor. Once +the rim met his lips and the taste touched his tongue, but he violently +spat it out and wiped his lips on the sleeve of his shirt. + +"Hits ther devil's holy water," he murmured to himself. "Thet's what +Brother Fulkerson says--an' I reckon he's right." + +The evening star always reminded him of Blossom. He thought of it as +her star, and upon it, as upon her own face, he kept his eyes fixed for +encouragement as his spirit's resistance waned in the mounting tide of +exhaustion. But when even that beacon was gone behind the mountain-top +he felt the despair of one whose last ally has abandoned him to face +travail unsupported. + +He fell back on his dreams; dreams of what Lincoln had faced and +conquered; of what he, too, might achieve. But now he could see them +only dispiritedly as hollow shapes; misty things without hope or +substance. That bucket now--a sip from it would rehabilitate them, give +them at least the semblance of attainability. There lay relief from +despair! + +His mind flashed back to his father's rebuke and his answer: "Ye says I +lay drunk. Thet's true an' hit's a shameful thing fer a man ter +admit.... But hit's a thing I've got ter fight out fer myself." + +A great indignation against his father's misunderstanding possessed +him. He must fight in his own way! Even Blossom had only asked him not +to drink "too much." + +When it needed only an hour more for the coming of dawn, his face grew +darkly sullen. + +"Hit's hell thet I've got ter spend my whole life a-brewin' ther stuff +ergin my will--takin' chances of ther jail-house fer hit--an' yit I +kain't have a drink when I'm wet ter ther bone," he growled. + +Going as if drawn by a power stronger than his own volition, he moved +balkingly yet with inevitable progress once more to the bucket. He half +filled the cup--raised it--and this time gulped it down greedily and +recklessly to the bottom. + +Immediately his chilled veins began to glow with an ardent +gratefulness. The stars seemed brighter and the little voices of the +night became sweeter. The iron-bound gates of imagination swung wide to +a pageantry of dreams, and as he crouched in the reeking underbrush, he +half forgot his discontent. + +Repeatedly he dipped and drained the cup. He was still on duty, but now +he watched with a diminished vigilance. Gradually his senses became +more blunt. The waking dreams were vaguer, too, and more absurd. + +He still tended the fire under the kettle--but he laughed scornfully at +the foolish need of keeping his face always in the shadow. Then +suddenly he dropped down close to the dark earth, let the cup splash +into the bucket, and thrust forward his rifle. + +His ears had caught a sound which might have been a raccoon stirring in +the brush--or a fox slipping covertly through the fallen hemlock top. + +But there was no repetition, so he laughed again and with the first +pallid hint of dawn on the ridges he shook the shoulder of his sleeping +companion. Then he himself sank down in the heavy torpor of exhaustion +and drunkenness. + +At the same time, because it would soon be light, the living creature +which had made the sound began creeping away, and in doing so it +avoided any other alarms. It was the figure of a man who had learned +what he came there to determine. + +When Lone Stacy plodded up to his still-house some hours later, he +exchanged nods with the squat mountaineer whom he found waiting. + +"Whar's Turner?" was his brief inquiry and the reply matched it in +taciturnity. "In thar--a-layin' drunk." + +The father went over and looked scowlingly down at the prostrate figure +stretched awkwardly in open-mouthed stupor. + +"I reckon," he announced succinctly, "thar hain't nothin' fer hit but +ter suffer him ter sleep hit off." + +With the toe of his boot Lone Stacy stirred the insensate body which +sprawled there; all its youthful vitality stilled into grotesque +stagnation. But when the hired man, Lee, was out of sight the bearded +face twitched with a spasm of distress. + +Its eyes traveled in a silent pathos from the sight of sagging jaw and +hunched shoulders to the unresponsive majesty of the calm hills as if +beseeching comfort there. In his only son's spirit had seemed to burn a +fire of promise which even he could not understand. Was that fire to be +quenched into the stale ashes of habitual drunkenness? + +A groan rumbled in his throat. + +Yet, had he remembered his Scriptures, Samson, the Mighty, had +surrendered in his moment of weakness to the allurements and the shears +of Delilah! Afterward, he had pulled down the pillars of the temple. + +These hills that had stood upright in days when the Alps and the +Himalayas had not yet stirred in conception, looked down placid, and +unsympathetic. Perhaps the eternal spirit of the range was not ashamed +of this erring child, asleep on its bosom. Perhaps, cognizant alike of +tempest and calm, it recognized this son's kinship with itself. The +prophecy which dwells in the immemorial may have foreseen gathering +powers of hurricane and might, which should some day make him rise, +above lesser summits. Possibly as he slept the great, silent voices +were crooning a lullaby over offspring destined for mastery. + + * * * * * + +When Ratler Webb had turned away from the tub-mill his brain was still +half stunned from the jarring punishment of battle. He was thoroughly +conscious only of deep chagrin and a gnawing hunger for reprisal. + +From childhood he retained no tender memories. + +There was no one upon whom he had a claim of blood, and neighborhood +report had not let him forget that he was a woodscolt. In hill parlance +a woodscolt signifies one whose birth has been sanctioned by no prior +rites of matrimony. + +Since he could remember he had existed only by virtue of the same +predatory boldness which gives the lean razor-back strength and innate +craftiness to live. + +Just now his whole abundant capacity for hatred was centered on Bear +Cat Stacy, yet since Bear Cat's kinsmen peopled every creek and +spring-branch of this country he could not be casually murdered. + +Any word slipped to the ear of the revenue man might be traced back to +him and after that he could no longer live among his native hills. +Still, he reflected as he slowly rubbed his fingers along his uneven +nose, time brings changes and chances. The possession of definite +evidence against his enemy might some day bear fruit. + +So Ratler did not ride home after his encounter at the mill. He took +refuge instead in an abandoned cabin of which he knew, strategically +located within a mile of the place where he had surmised the Stacy +family were making illicit whiskey. While the storm raged, threatening +to bring down the sagging roof timbers about his ears, he sat before +its dead and ruined hearth, entertaining bitter thoughts. + +Between midnight and dawn he stepped over the broken threshold and +began his reconnaissance. For two hours he crouched, wet and cramped, +in the laurel near enough to throw a stone against the kettle of the +primitive distillery--waiting for that moment of relaxed vigilance, +when the figure that moved in the shadows should permit a ray from the +fire to fall upon its features. + +When dawn had almost come his vigil was rewarded and he had turned away +again. + +Blossom Fulkerson knew none of these things at noon of the day +following the fight at the mill when, in the road, she encountered Lone +Stacy making his way back to his house for his midday dinner, but as +the old man stopped and nodded she read trouble in his eyes. + +"Air ye worrited about somethin', Mr. Stacy?" she demanded, and for a +little space the man stood hesitantly silent. + +At last he hazarded, "Little gal, thar's a thing I'd like ter name ter +ye. I reckon if anybody kin holp me hit mout be you." + +The girl's eyes lighted with an instinctive sympathy--then shadowed +with a premonition of what was coming. + +"Is hit--about--Turner?" + +The father nodded his head gravely. His eyes wore the harassed disquiet +of a problem for which he knew no solution. + +"Does ye mean thet he's--he's----" She broke off abruptly and Lone +Stacy answered her with unrelieved bluntness. + +"He's a-layin' up thar drunk ergin, an' he's got a gash on one shoulder +thet's powder burned. I reckon he's been engagin' in some manner of +ruction." + +For a moment the girl did not speak, but her cheeks paled and tears +swam abruptly in her eyes. She raised one hand and brushed them +fiercely away. + +She had awakened this morning with a new and unaccountable happiness in +her heart. In all the lilt and sparkle of the world and all the +tunefulness of the young summer there had seemed a direct message to +herself. In her memory she had been hearing afresh the crude but +impassioned eloquence with which the boy had talked to her yesterday. +Now he lay up there at the distillery in the heavy sleep of the +drunkard. + +"Ther boy's all I've got," announced Lone Stacy with an unaccustomed +break in his voice. "I reckon mebby ef I hadn't been so harsh I mout +hev more influence with him." Then he turned abruptly on his heel and +trudged on. + +Blossom Fulkerson slipped into the woods and came to a sun-flecked +amphitheater of rock and rhododendron where the ferns grew lush and +tall, by the sparkle of water. There she sank down and covered her face +with her hands. Her sobs shook her for a while, and then washing the +tears away, she knelt and prayed with a passionate simplicity. + +Sometimes she lifted a pale face and her lips twisted themselves +pathetically in the earnestness of her prayer. + +The Almighty to Whom she made her plea, and Who knew everything, must +know, even as she knew, that Turner Stacy was not like those rowdy +youths who habitually disgraced the hills. That occasional smile which +lurked with its inherent sweetness under his affected sullenness must +mean _something_. + +Turner had always been her willing vassal, and "sometime" she had +supposed, though hitherto that had always seemed a vaguely distant +matter like the purple haze on the horizon, they would be avowed +sweethearts. + +Yesterday, though, as she walked back from the meeting on the ridge it +had seemed as if she had spent a moment in that languourous land where +the far mists drouse,--and yet the glamour had not faded. She hadn't +sought to analyze then, she had only felt a new thrill in her heart as +she instinctively broke clusters of pink-hearted bloom from the laurel. + +She left the woods after a while and as she came out again to the high +road, she heard a voice raised in the high-pitched, almost falsetto, +minors of mountain minstrelsy. + +It was not a pleasing voice, nor was the ballad a cheery one. As for +the singer himself, the twisting of the way still concealed him from +view, so that his song proclaimed him like a herald in advance. + + "He stobbed her to ther heart an' she fell with a groan. + He threw a leetle dirt _ov_-er her, an' started fer home," + +wailed the dolorous voice of the traveler. There was a splashing of +hoofs in shallow water, then a continuation + + "His debt ter ther devil now William must pay, + Fer he fell down an' died afore break of day." + +Thus announced, a mule plodded shortly into sight, and upon his back, +perching sidewise, sat a tow-headed lout of a boy with staring, vacant +eyes and a mouth which hung open, even when he desisted from song. + +With an access of callow diffidence he halted his mount at sight of +Blossom, staring with a nod and a bashful "Howdy." + +"Howdy, Leander," accosted the girl. "How's all your folks?" + +Leander White, of Crowfoot Branch, aged fifteen, gulped twice with +prodigious and spasmodic play of his adam's apple, before he eventually +commanded voice to reply: + +"They're all well.... I'm obleeged ... ter ye." Then, however, +reassured by the cordial smile on the lips of Blossom Fulkerson, his +power of speech and his hunger for gossip returned to him in unison. + +"But old Aunt Lucy Hutton, over acrost ther branch, she fell down +yistiddy an' broke a bone inside of her, though." + +"Did she?" demanded the girl, readily sympathetic, and Leander, thus +given sanction as a purveyor of tidings, nodded and gathered +confidence. "Huh-huh, an' Revenuers raided Joe Simmons's still-house on +ther headwaters of Skinflint an' cyarried off a _beau_tiful piece o' +copper--atter they'd punched hit full o' holes." + +"Revenuers!" Into the girl's voice now came a note of anxiety. + +"Huh-huh, revenuers. Folks says they're gittin' bodaciously pesky these +days." + +"Ye ain't--ye ain't seen none of 'em yourself, have ye, Leander?" The +question came a bit breathlessly and the boy forgot his bashfulness as +he expanded with the importance of his traveler's tales. + +"Not to know 'em fer sich," he admitted, "but I met up with a furriner +a few leagues back along ther highway. He was broguein' along mighty +brash on his own two feet. La! But he was an elegant party ter be +a-ridin' on shoe-leather, though!" + +"What manner of furriner was he, Leander?" demanded Blossom with a +clutch of fright at her heart, but the boy shook his head stupidly. + +"Wa'al he was jest a feller from down below. Ter tell hit proper, I +didn't hev much speech with him. We jest met an' made our manners an' +went our ways. He 'lowed ter go ter Lone Stacy's house." + +"Lone Stacy's house," echoed the girl faintly. + +"Reckon' I'll be a-ridin' on," drawled the young horseman nonchalantly. +"Reckon I've done told ye all ther tidings I knows." + +Blossom stood, for a while, rooted where he had left her, listening to +the splash of the mule's feet along the creek. If a prying eye should +discover the Stacy still to-day it would find not only "a beautiful +piece of copper" but Bear Cat lying there incapacitated and helpless! + +Her heart missed its beat at the thought. The hills seemed to close in +on her stiflingly with all their age-old oppression of fears and +impending tragedies, and she sat down by the roadside to think it out. +What should she do? + +After a while she saw the tall figure of the elder Stacy climbing the +mountainside, but he was taking a short cut--and would not come within +hailing distance. Her eye, trained to read indications, noted that a +rifle swung in his right hand. + +Bitterly she had been taught by her father to resent the illicit +business to which Turner's service was grudgingly given. But above all +ethical hatred of law-breaking rose the very present danger to Turner +himself. Laws were abstract things and Turner was Turner! + +There was only one answer. She must watch and, if need arose, give +warning. + +Just where the brook that trickled down from the still gushed out to +the creek and the road which followed its course, lay a steeply sloping +field of young corn. Along its back grew rows of "shuckybeans," and +here Blossom took her station for her self-appointed task of sentry +duty. + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +Jerry Henderson had lost his way. + +Aching muscles protested the extra miles because back there at Marlin +Town he had been advised to cross Cedar Mountain on foot. + +"Unless they suspicions ye, 'most any man'll contrive ter take ye in +an' enjoy ye somehow," his counselors had pointed out. "But thar's +heaps of them pore fam'lies over thar thet hain't got feed fer a ridin' +critter noways." + +Now Cedar Mountain is not, as its name mendaciously implies, a single +peak but a chain that crawls, zig-zag as herringbone, for more than a +hundred miles with few crossings which wheels can follow. + +It is a wall twenty-five hundred feet high, separating the world from +"back of beyond." Having scaled it since breakfast, Jerry Henderson was +tired. + +He was tanned and toughened like saddle-leather. He was broad of +shoulder, narrow of thigh, and possessed of a good, resolute brow and a +straight-cut jaw. His eyes were keen with intelligence and sufficiently +cool with boldness. + +Arriving at a narrow thread of clear water which came singing out at +the edge of a corn-field, his eyes lighted with satisfaction. Tilled +ground presumably denoted the proximity of a human habitation where +questions could be answered. + +So he stood, searching the forested landscape for a thread of smoke or +a roof, and as he did so he perceived a movement at the edge of the +field where the stalks had grown higher than the average and merged +with the confusion of the thicket. + +Jerry turned and began making his way along the edge of the patch, +respecting the corn rows by holding close to the tangle at the margin. +Then suddenly with a rustling of the shrubbery as startling as the +sound with which a covey of quail rises from nowhere, a figure stepped +into sight and the stranger halted in an astonishment which, had +Blossom Fulkerson realized it, was the purest form of flattery. + +He had seen many women and girls working in the fields as he had come +along the way and most of them had been heavy of feature and slovenly +of dress. Here was one who might have been the spirit of the hills +themselves in bloom; one who suggested kinship with the free skies and +the sunlit foliage. + +With frank delight in the astonishing vision, Jerry Henderson stood +there, his feet well apart, his pack still on his shoulders and his +lips parted in a smile of greeting and friendliness. + +"Howdy," he said, but the girl remained motionless, vouchsafing no +response. + +"I'm a stranger in these parts," he volunteered easily, using the +vernacular of the hills, "and I've strayed off my course. I was aiming +to go to Lone Stacy's dwelling-house." + +Still she remained statuesque and voiceless, so the man went on: "Can +you set me right? There seems to be a sort of a path here. Does it lead +anywhere in particular?" + +He took a step nearer and eased his pack to the ground among the briars +of the blackberry bushes. + +Abruptly, as if to bar his threatened progress, Blossom moved a little +to the side, obstructing the path. Into her eyes leaped a flame of +Amazonian hostility and her hands clenched themselves tautly at her +sides. Her lips parted and from her throat came a long, mellow cry not +unlike the yodle of the Tyrol. It echoed through the timber and died +away--and again she stood confronting him--wordless! + +"I didn't mean to startle you," he declared reassuringly, "I only +wanted information." + +Again the far-carrying but musical shout was sent through the quiet of +the forest--his only answer. + +"Since you won't answer my questions," said Jerry Henderson, irritated +into capriciousness, "I think I'll see for myself where this trail +leads." + +Instantly, then, she planted herself before him, with a violently +heaving bosom and a wrathful quivering of her delicate nostrils, Her +challenge broke tensely from her lips with a note of unyielding +defiance. + +"Ye can't pass hyar!" + +"So you _can_ talk, after all," he observed coolly. "It's a help to +learn that much at all events." + +He had chanced on a path, he realized, which some moonshiner preferred +keeping closed and the girl had been stationed there as a human +declaration, "no thoroughfare." + +Still he stood where he was and presently he had the result of his +waiting. + +A deep, masculine voice, unmistakable in the peremptoriness of its +command, sounded from the massed tangle of the hillside. It expressed +itself in the single word "Begone!" and Henderson was not fool enough +to search the underbrush for an identifying glimpse of his challenger. + +"My name is Jerry Henderson and I was seeking to be shown my way," he +said quietly, keeping his eyes, as he spoke, studiously on the face of +the girl. + +"Begone! I'm a-warnin' ye fa'r. Begone!" + +The wayfarer shrugged his shoulders. Debate seemed impracticable, but +his annoyance was not lessened as he recognized in the clear eyes of +the young woman a half-suppressed mockery of scorn and triumph. + +Henderson stooped and hefted his pack again to his shoulders, adjusting +it deliberately. If it must be retreat, he wished at least to retire +with the honors of war. The girl's expression had piqued him into +irascibility. + +"I'd heard tell that folks hereabouts were civil to strangers," he +announced bluntly. "And I don't give a damn about whatever secret +you're bent on hiding from me." + +Then he turned on his heel and started, not rapidly but with a +leisurely stride to the road. He seemed to feel the eyes of the girl +following him as he went, and his spirit of resentment prompted an act +of mild bravado as he halted by the rotten line of fence and +unhurriedly tightened the lace of a boot. + +"Hasten!" barked the warning voice from the laurel, but Henderson did +not hasten. He acknowledged the disquieting surmise of a rifle trained +on him from the dense cover, but he neither looked back nor altered his +pace. Then he heard a gun bark from the shrubbery and a bullet zip as +it found its billet in a tree trunk above his head, but that he had +expected. It was merely a demonstration in warning--not an attempt on +his life. As long as he kept on his way, he believed hostilities would +go no further. + +Without venturing to use his eyes, he let his ears do their best, and a +satirical smile came to his lips as he heard a low, half-smothered +scream of fright break from the lips of the girl whom he could no +longer see. + +And, had he been able to study the golden-brown eyes just then, he +would have been even more compensated, for into them crept a slow light +of admiration and astonished interest. + +"He ain't nobody's coward anyways," she murmured as the figure of the +unknown man swung out of sight around the bend, and some thought of the +same sort passed through the mind of the elderly man in the thicket, +bringing a grim but not an altogether humorless smile to his lips. + +"Wa'al, I run him off," he mused, "but I didn't hardly run him no-ways +_hard_!" + +Jerry Henderson had borne credentials from Uncle Israel Calvert who +kept a store on Big Ivy, and he had been everywhere told that once +Uncle Billy had vised his passports, he would need no further +safe-conduct. + +In the encounter at the cornfield there had been no opportunity to show +that bill of health and it was only after an hour spent in walking the +wrong way, that its possessor met the next person to whom he could put +questions. Then he learned that "Lone Stacy dwelt in a sizeable house +over on Little Slippery,"--but that he had strayed so far from the true +course that now he must climb a mountain or take a detour and that in +either event he would have to hasten to arrive there before nightfall. + +So the shadows were lengthening when he turned into the course of what +must be "Little Slippery"--and came face to face with two men of +generous stature, one elderly and the other youthful. He noted that the +older of these men carried a rifle on his shoulder and was conscious of +a piercing scrutiny from both pairs of eyes. + +"I'm seeking Lone Stacy," began Henderson, and the older face darkened +into a momentary scowl of animosity, with the coming of the curt reply: + +"Thet's my name." + +The traveler gave a violent start of astonishment. It was a +deep-chested voice which, once heard, was not to be confused with other +voices, and Jerry Henderson had heard it not many hours before raised +in stentorian warning from the depth of the thickets. But promptly he +recovered his poise and smiled. + +"I have a piece of paper here," he said, "from Uncle Israel Calvert. He +said that if he vouched for me you would be satisfied." + +As Lone Stacy accepted the proffered note with his left hand he passed +his rifle to the younger man with his right, and even then he held the +sheet unopened for a space while his serious gaze swept the stranger +slowly from head to foot in challenging appraisal. + +He read slowly, with the knitted brows of the unscholastic, and as he +did so the youth kept his eye on Henderson's face--and his finger on +the trigger. + +Having seen the boy's face, Henderson found it hard to shift his glance +elsewhere. He had encountered many mountain faces that were sinister +and vindictive--almost malign, but it was not the unyielding challenge +which arrested him now. It was something far more individual and +impressive. There are eyes that reflect light with the quicksilver +responsiveness of mirrors. There are others, though more rare, which +shine from an inner fire. + +Bear Cat Stacy's held the golden, unresting flame that one encounters +in the tawny iris of a captive lion or eagle. Such eyes in a human face +mean something and it is something which leads their possessor to the +gallows or the throne. They are heralds of a spirit untameable and +invincible; of the will to rend or rebuild. + +Henderson found himself thinking of volcanoes which are latent but not +extinct. It was a first glimpse, but if he never again saw this boy, +who stood there measuring him with cool deliberation, he would always +remember him as one remembers the few instantly convincing +personalities one has brushed in walking through life. + +But when Lone Stacy had finished his perusal, the nod of his head was +an assurance of dissipated doubt. There was even a grave sort of +courtesy in his manner now, as he announced: + +"Thet's good enough fer me. If Uncle Israel vouches fer ye, ye're +welcome. He says hyar 'ther bearer is trustworthy'--but he don't say +who ye air. Ye said yore name war Jerry Henderson, didn't ye?" + +"That _is_ my name," assented the newcomer, once more astonished. "But +I didn't realize I'd told it yet." + +With an outright scorn for subterfuge the older man replied, "I reckon +thar hain't no profit in a-beatin' ther devil round ther stump. You've +heered my voice afore--an' I've seed yore face. Ye tole me yore name +back thar--in ther la'rel, didn't ye?" + +Henderson bowed. "I _did_ recognize your voice, but I didn't aim to +speak of it--unless you did." + +"When I says that I trusts a man," the moonshiner spoke with an +unambiguous quietness of force, "I means what I says an' takes my +chances accordin'. Ef a man betrays my confidence--" he paused just an +instant then added pointedly--"he takes _his_ chances. What did ye 'low +yore business war, hyarabouts, Mr. Henderson?" + +"I mean to explain that to you in due time, Mr. Stacy, but just now it +takes fewer words to say what's _not_ my business." + +"Wall then, what _hain't_ yore business?" + +"Other people's business." + +"Wa'al so far as hit goes thet's straight talk. I favors outright +speech myself an' ye don't seem none mealy-mouthed. Ye talks right fer +yoreself--like a mountain man." + +"You see," said Henderson calmly, "I _am_ a mountain man even if I've +dwelt down below for some years." + +"You--a mountain man?" echoed the bearded giant in bewilderment and the +visitor nodded. + +"Ever hear of Torment Henderson?" he inquired. + +"Colonel Torment Henderson! Why, hell's fiddle, man, my daddy sarved +under him in ther war over slavery! I was raised upon stories of how he +tuck thet thar name of 'Torment' in battle." + +"He was my grandpap," the stranger announced, dropping easily into the +phrases of the country. + +"Mr. Henderson," said the old man, drawing himself up a trifle +straighter, "we're pore folks, but we're proud ter hev ye enjoy what +little we've got. This hyar's my son, Turner Stacy." + +Then Bear Cat spoke for the first time. "I reckon ye be leg-weary, Mr. +Henderson. I'll fotch yore contraptions ter ther house." + +There remained to the splendidly resilient powers of Bear Cat's +physical endowment no trace of last night's debauch except that +invisible aftermath of desperate chagrin and mortification. As he +lifted the pack which Henderson had put down something like admiring +wonderment awoke in him. Here was a man born like himself in the hills, +reared in crude places, who yet bore himself with the air of one +familiar with the world, and who spoke with the fluency of education. + +As the wearied traveler trudged along with his two hosts, he had +glowing before his eyes the final fires of sunset over hills that grew +awesomely somber and majestic under the radiance of gold and ash of +rose. Then they reached a gate, where a horse stood hitched, and before +them bulked the dark shape of a house whose open door was a yellow slab +of lamplight. + +From the porch as they came up, rose a gray figure in the neutrality of +the dying light; a man with a patriarchal beard that fell over his +breast and an upper lip clean shaven, like a Mormon elder. Even in that +dimness a rude dignity seemed inherent to this man and as Henderson +glanced at him he heard Lone Stacy declaring, "Brother Fulkerson, ye're +welcome. This hyar is Mr. Henderson." Then turning to the guest, the +householder explained. "Brother Fulkerson air ther preacher of God's +Word hyarabouts. He's a friend ter every Christian an' a mighty +wrastler with sin." + +As the stranger acknowledged this presentation he glanced up and, +standing in the light from the door, found himself face to face with +yet another figure; the figure of a girl who was silhouetted there in +profile, for the moment seemingly frozen motionless by astonishment. +Her face was flooded with the pinkness of a deep blush, and her slender +beauty was as undeniable as an axiom. + +Lone Stacy turned with an amused laugh, "An' this, Mr. Henderson," he +went on, "air Brother Fulkerson's gal, Blossom. I reckon ye two hev met +afore--albeit ye didn't, in a way of speakin', make yore manners ther +fust time." + +Blossom bowed, then she laughed shyly but with a delicious quality of +music in her voice. + +"I reckon ye 'lowed I didn't know nothin'--I mean anything--about +manners, Mr. Henderson," she confessed and the man hastily assured her: + +"I 'lowed that you were splendidly loyal--to somebody." + +As he spoke he saw Bear Cat at his elbow, his eyes fixed on the girl +with a wordless appeal of contrition and devotion, and he thought he +understood. + +"Howdy, Blossom," murmured Turner, and the girl's chin came up. Her +voice seemed to excommunicate him as she replied briefly: "Howdy, +Turner." + +This was a lover's quarrel, surmised Henderson and discreetly he turned +again to the host, but, even so, he saw Turner step swiftly forward and +raise his hands. His lips were parted and his eyes full of +supplication, but he did not speak. He only let his arms fall and +turned away with a face of stricken misery. + +Blossom knew about last night, reflected Bear Cat. He was, as he +deserved to be, in disgrace. + +Then as the girl stood looking off into the gathering darkness her own +face filled wistfully with pain and the boy, dropping to a seat on the +floor of the porch, watched her covertly with sidewise glances. + +"Blossom met me down ther road," observed the minister, "an' named ter +me thet she hed----" He paused, casting a dubious glance at the +stranger, and Lone Stacy interrupted: "She named ter ye thet she stood +guard at ther still an' warned Mr. Henderson off?" + +Brother Fulkerson nodded gravely. "I was a little mite troubled in my +mind lest she'd put herself in jeopardy of the law. Thet's why I +lighted down an' hitched hyar: ter hev speech with ye." + +"Ye needn't worrit yoreself none, Brother Fulkerson," reassured the +host. "Mr. Henderson comes vouched fer by Uncle Israel." + +The preacher sat for a space silent and when he next spoke it was still +with a remnant of misgiving in his tone. + +"I don't aim to go about crossin' good men and a-cavilin' with thar +opinions," he began apologetically. "Like as not heaps of 'em air +godlier men than me, but I holds it to be my duty to speak out free." +Again he paused and cast a questioning glance at his host as though in +deference to the hospitality of the roof, and the tall mountaineer, +standing beside the post of his porch, nodded assent with equal +gravity. + +"Talk right fer yoreself, Brother Fulkerson. I don't never aim ter +muzzle no man's speech." + +"Waal, this day I've rid some twenty miles acrost high ridges and down +inter shadowy valleys, I've done traversed some places thet war +powerful wild an' laurely. Wharsoever God's work calls me, I'm obleeged +ter go, but I raised my voice in song as I fared along amongst them +thickets, lest some man thet I couldn't see; some man a-layin' on +watch, mout suspicion I was seekin' ter discover somethin' he aimed ter +keep hid--jest as ye suspicioned Mr. Henderson, hyar." + +Lone Stacy stroked his beard. + +"I reckon thet war ther wisest way, Brother Fulkerson, unless every man +over thar knowed ye." + +"I reckon God likes ther songs of his birds better," declared the +preacher, "then ther song of a man thet _hes_ ter sing ter protect his +own life. I reckon no country won't ever prosper mightily, whilst hit's +a land of hidin' out with rifle-guns in ther laurel." + +There was no wrath in the eyes of the host as he listened to his +guest's indictment or the voice of thrilling earnestness in which it +was delivered. He only raised one hand and pointed upward where a +mighty shoulder of mountain rose hulking through the twilight. Near its +top one could just make out the thread-like whiteness of a new fence +line. + +"Yonder's my corn patch," he said. "When I cl'ared hit an' grubbed hit +out my neighbors all came ter ther workin' an' amongst us we toiled +thar from sun-up twell one o'clock at night--daylight an' moonlight. On +thet patch I kin raise me two or three master crops o' corn an' atter +_thet_ hit won't hardly raise rag weeds! A bushel o' thet corn, sledded +over ter ther nighest store fotches in mebby forty cents. But thar's +two gallons of licker in hit an' _thet's_ wuth money. Who's a-goin' ter +deny me ther rightful license ter do hit?" + +"Ther Law denies ye," replied the preacher gravely, but without +acerbity. + +"Thar's things thet's erginst ther law," announced the old man with a +swift gathering of fierceness in his tone, "an' thar's things thet's +_above_ ther law. A criminal is a man thet's done befouled his own +self-respect. I hain't never done thet an' I hain't no criminal. What +do _you_ think, Mr. Henderson?" + +Henderson had no wish to be drawn, so soon, into any conflict of local +opinion, yet he realized that a candid reply was expected. + +"My opinion is that of theory only," he responded seriously. "But I +agree with Brother Fulkerson. A community with secrets to hide is a +hermit community--and one of the strangers that is frightened away--is +Prosperity." + +Bear Cat Stacy, brooding silently in his place, looked suddenly up. +Hitherto he had seen only the sweet wistfulness of Blossom's eyes. Now +he remembered the words of the old miller. + +"Some day a mountain man will rise up as steadfast as the hills he +sprung from--an' he'll change hit all like ther sun changes fog!" +Perhaps Turner Stacy was ripe for hero-worship. + +Over the mountain top appeared the beacon of the evening star--luminous +but pale. As if saluting it the timber became wistful with the call of +whippoorwills and fireflies began to flit against the sooty curtain of +night. + +Something stirred in the boy, as though the freshening breeze brought +the new message of an awakening. Here was the talk of wise men, +concurring with the voices of his dreams! But at that moment his mother +appeared in the doorway and announced + +"You men kin come in an' _eat_, now." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +In former days an Appalachian tavern was a "quarter-house"; a hostelry +where one paid a quarter for one's bed and a quarter, each, for meals. +Now the term has fallen into such disuse as to be no longer generic, +but locally it survived with a meaning both specific and malodorous. +The press of Kentucky and Virginia had used it often, coupled with +lurid stories of blood-lettings and orgies; linking with it always the +name of its proprietor, Kinnard Towers. + +How could such things go on in the twentieth century? questioned the +readers of these news columns, forgetting that this ramparted isolation +lives not in the twentieth century but still in the eighteenth; that +its people who have never seen salt water still sing the ballads of +Walter Raleigh's sea-rovers, and that from their lips still fall, warm +with every-day usage, the colloquialisms of Chaucer and of Piers the +Ploughman. + +The Quarterhouse stood in a cleft where the mountains had been riven. +Its front door opened into Virginia and its rear door gave into +Kentucky. Across the puncheon floor was humorously painted a stripe of +whitewash, as constantly renewed as the markings of a well-kept tennis +court--and that line was a state boundary. + +Hither flocked refugees from the justice of two states, and if a +suddenly materializing sheriff confronted his quarry in the room where +each day and each night foregathered the wildest spirits of a wild +land, the hounded culprit had only to cross that white line and stand +upon his lawful demand for extradition papers. Here, therefore, the +hunted foxes of the law ran to ground. The man who presided as +proprietor was a power to be feared, admired, hated as individual +circumstance dictated, but in any case one whose wrath was not to be +advisedly stirred. + +He had found it possible to become wealthy in a land where such +achievement involves battening on poverty. Cruel--suave; +predatory--charitable, he had taken life by his own hand and that of +the hireling, but also he had, in famine-times, succored the poor. + +He had, in short, awed local courts and intimidated juries of the +vicinage until he seemed beyond the law, and until office-holders wore +his collar. + +Kinnard Towers was floridly blond of coloring, mild of eye and urbanely +soft-spoken of voice. + +Once, almost two decades ago, while the feud was still eruptive, it had +seemed advisable to him to have Lone Stacy done to death, and to that +end he had bargained with Black Tom Carmichael. + +Black Tom had been provided with a double-barreled gun, loaded with +buckshot, and placed in a thicket which, at the appointed hour, the +intended victim must pass. But it had chanced that fate intervened. On +that day Lone Stacy had carried in his arms his baby son, Turner Stacy, +and, seeing the child, Black Tom had faltered. + +Later in the seclusion of a room over the Quarterhouse, the employer +had wrathfully taken his churl to task. + +"Wa'al, why didn't ye git him?" was the truculent interrogation. "He +passed by close enough fer ye ter hit him with a rock." + +"He was totin' his baby," apologized the designated assassin +shamefacedly, yet with a sullen obstinacy, "I was only hired ter kill a +growed-up man. Ef ye'd a-give me a rifle-gun like I asked ye 'stid of a +scatter-gun I could've got him through his damned head an' not harmed +ther child none. Thet's why I held my hand." + +Kinnard Towers had scornfully questioned: "What makes ye so tormentin' +mincy erbout ther kid? Don't ye know full well thet when he grows up +we'll have ter git _him_, too? Howsoever next time I'll give ye a +rifle-gun." + +Like all unlettered folk the mountaineer is deeply superstitious and +prone to believe in portents and wonders. Often, though he can never be +brought to confess it he gives credence to tales of sorcery and +witchcraft. + +Turner Stacy was from his birth a "survigrous" child, and he was born +on the day of the eclipse. As he came into the world the sun was +darkened. Immediately after that a sudden tempest broke which tore the +forests to tatters, awoke quiet brooks to swirling torrents, unroofed +houses and took its toll of human life. Even in after years when men +spoke of the "big storm" they always alluded to _that_ one. + +An old crone who was accounted able to read fortunes and work charms +announced that Turner Stacy came into life on the wings of that storm, +and that the sun darkened its face because his birth savored of the +supernatural. This being so, she said, he was immune from any harm of +man's devising. Her absurd story was told and retold around many a +smoky cabin hearth, and there were those who accorded it an unconfessed +credence. + +Later Black Tom was given a rifle and again stationed in ambush. Again +Lone Stacy, favored by chance, carried his baby son in his arms. Black +Tom, whose conscience had never before impeded his action, continued to +gaze over his gun-sights--without pressing the trigger. + +Towers was furious, but Carmichael could only shake his head in a +frightened bewilderment, as if he had seen a ghost. + +"Ther brat looked at me jest as I was about to fire," he protested. +"His eyes didn't look like a human bein's. He hain't no baby--he was +born a man--or somethin' more then a man." + +As affairs developed, the truce was arranged soon afterward, and also +the marked man's death became unnecessary, because he was safe in +prison on a charge of moonshining. + +Neither Lone Stacy nor his son had ever known of this occurrence, and +now the Stacys and the Towers met on the road and "made their manners" +without gun-play. + +But to Kinnard Towers local happenings remained vital and, for all his +crudity, few things of topical interest occurred of which he was not +duly apprised. + +Into his dwelling place came one day the Honorable Abraham Towers, his +nephew, who sat in the state Legislature at Frankfort. The two were +closeted together for an hour and as the nephew emerged, at the end of +the interview, Kinnard walked with him to the hitching-post where the +visitor's horse stood tethered. + +"I'm obleeged ter ye, Abe," he said graciously. "When this man +Henderson gits hyar, I'll make hit a point ter hev casual speech with +him. I aims ter l'arn his business, an' ef what ye suspicions air true, +he'll have dealin's with me--or else he won't hardly succeed." + +So it happened logically enough that on the evening of Jerry's arrival, +Kinnard Towers mounted and started out over the hill trails. He rode, +as he always did when he went far abroad, under armed escort since +tyrants are never secure. Four rifle-equipped vassals accompanied him; +two riding as advance guard and two protecting the rear. + +Kinnard's destination was the house of Lone Stacy on Little Slippery, a +house whose threshold he could not, in the old days, have crossed +without blood-letting; but these were the days of peace. + +Arriving, he did not go direct to the door and knock, but discreetly +halting in the highway, lifted his voice and shouted aloud, "Halloo! +I'm Kinnard Towers an' I'm a-comin' in." + +The door was thrown promptly open and Lone Stacy appeared, framed +between threshold and lintel, holding a lamp aloft and offering +welcome. + +"Gentlemen," said the host in a matter-of-fact voice, "ef you'll excuse +me, I'll rest yore guns." + +Then in observance of a quaint and ancient ceremonial, each armed +guardian passed in, surrendering his rifle at the threshold. In +retarded Appalachia so runs the rule. To fail in its fulfilment is to +express distrust for the honesty and ability of the householder to +protect his guests, and such an implication constitutes a grave +discourtesy. + +Inside a fire roared on the hearth, for even in June, the mountain +nights are raw. + +Henderson, watching the small cavalcade troop in, smiled inwardly. He +was not unmindful of the identity or the power of this modern baron, +and he was not without suspicion that he himself was the cause of the +visit. + +"I chanced ter be farin' by, Lone," Kinnard Towers enlightened his host +easily, "an' I 'lowed I'd light down an' rest a little spell." + +"Ye're welcome," was the simple reply. "Draw up ter ther fire an' set +ye a cheer." + +The talk lingered for a space on neighborhood topics, but the host had +found time, between hearing the shout outside and replying to it, to +say in a low voice to his guest: "I reckon atter Kinnard Towers comes +in we won't talk no more erbout my still--jest stills in gin'ral," and +that caution was religiously observed. + +The kitchen tasks had been finished now and while the men sat close to +the smoking hearth the faces of the women looked on from the shadowed +corners of the room, where they sat half obscured upon the huge +four-poster beds. + +The man who had crossed Cedar Mountain lighted his pipe from the bed of +coals and then, straightening up, he stood on the hearth where his eyes +could take in the whole semicircle of listening faces. They were eyes +that, for all their seeming of a theorist's engrossment, missed little. + +This house might have been a pioneer abode of two hundred years ago, +standing unamended by the whole swelling tide of modernity that had +passed it by untouched. + +The leaping blaze glittered on the metal of polished rifles stacked in +a corner, and on two others hanging against the smoke-dimmed logs of +the walls. Red pods of peppers and brown leaves of tobacco were strung +along the rafters. Hardly defined of shape against one shadowy wall, +stood a spinning wheel. + +Henderson knew that the room was pregnant with the conflict of human +elements. He realized that he himself faced possibilities which made +his mission here a thing of delicate manipulation; even of personal +danger. + +The blond man with the heavy neck, who sat contemplatively chewing at +the stem of an unlighted pipe, listened in silence. He hardly seemed +interested, but Henderson recognized him for the sponsor and +beneficiary of lawlessness. He more than any other would be the logical +foe to a new order which brought the law in its wake--and the law's +reckonings. + +Near to the enemy whom he had heretofore faced in pitched battle, sat +old Lone Stacy, his brogans kicked off and his bare feet thrust out to +the warmth; bearded, shrewd of eye, a professed lover of the law, +asking only the exemption of his illicit still. He, too, in the feud +days had wielded power, but had sought in the main to wield it for +peace. + +And there, showing no disposition to draw aside the skirts of his +raiment in disgust, sat the preacher of the hills whose strength lay in +his ability to reconcile antagonisms, while yet he stood staunch, +abating nothing of self-sacrificial effort. It was almost as though +church and crown and commoner were gathered in informal conclave. + +But luminous, like fixed stars, gleamed two other pairs of eyes. As he +realized them, Henderson straightened up with such a thrill as comes +from a vision. Here were the eyes of builders of the future--agleam as +they looked on the present! Blossom's were wide and enthralled and +Turner Stacy's burned as might those of a young crusader hearing from +the lips of old and seasoned knights recitals of the wars of the +Sepulchre. + +Bear Cat Stacy saw in this stranger the prophet bearing messages for +which he had longed--and waited almost without hope. But Kinnard Towers +saw in him a dangerous and unsettling agitator. + +"You said," declared Henderson, when the theme had swung back again to +economic discussion, "that your cornfield was good for a few crops and +then the rains would wash it bare, yet as I came along the road I saw +an out-cropping vein of coal that reached above my head, and on each +side of me were magnificent stretches of timber that the world needs +and that is growing scarce." + +"Much profit thet does me," Lone Stacy laughed dryly. "Down at Uncle +Israel's store thar's a dollar bill thet looks like hit's a-layin' on +ther counter--but when ye aims to pick hit up ye discarns thet hit's +pasted under ther glass. Thet coal an' timber of mine air pasted ter +ther wrong side of Cedar Mounting." + +"And why? Because there are few roads and fewer schools. It's less the +cost and difficulties of building wagon roads than something else that +stands in the way. It's the laurel." + +"The laurel?" repeated Lone Stacy, but the preacher nodded +comprehendingly, and the visitor went on: + +"Yes. The laurel. I've been in Central American jungles where men died +of fever because the thick growth held and bred the miasma. Here the +laurel holds a spirit of concealment. If there wasn't a bush in all +these hills big enough to hide a man, the country would be thrown open +to the markets of the world. It's the spirit of hiding--that locks life +in and keeps it poor." + +"I presume ye means on account of ther blockade licker," replied the +host, "but thet don't tech ther root of ther matter. How erbout ther +fields thet stand on end; fields thet kain't be plowed an' thet ther +rains brings down on yore head, leavin' nuthin 'thar but ther rock?" + +Henderson had the power of convincing words, abetted by a persuasive +quality of voice. As a mountain man he preached his faith in the future +of the hills. He spoke of the vineyards of Madeira where slopes as +incorrigibly steep as these were redeemed by terracing. He talked of +other lands that were being exhausted of resources and turning greedy +eyes upon the untapped wealth of the Cumberlands. He painted the +picture glowingly and fervently, and Turner Stacy, listening, bent +forward with a new fire in his eyes: a fire which Kinnard Towers did +not fail to mark. + +"When ther railroad taps us," interpolated Lone Stacy, in a pause, +"mebby we kin manage ter live. Some says ther road aims ter cross Cedar +Mounting." + +"Don't deceive yourself with false hopes," warned the visitor. "This +change must be brought about from inside--not outside. The coming of +the railroad lies a decade or two away. I've investigated that question +pretty thoroughly and I know. The coal-fields are so large that +railroads can still, for a long time to come, choose the less expensive +routes. Cedar Mountain balks them for the present. It will probably +balk them for the length of our lives--but this country can progress +without waiting for that." + +"So ye thinks thet even without no railroad this God-forsaken land kin +still prosper somehow?" inquired the host skeptically, and the visitor +answered promptly: + +"I do. I am so convinced of it that I'm here to buy property--to invest +all I have and all my mother and sisters have. I think that by +introducing modern methods of intensive farming, I can make it pay a +fair return in my own time--and when I die I'll leave property that +will ultimately enrich the younger generations. I _don't_ think it can +make me rich in my lifetime--but _some_ day it's a certainty of +millions." + +"Why don't ye buy yoreself property whar ther railroad will come in +yore own day, then? Wouldn't thet pay ye better?" + +The suggestion was the first contribution to the conversation that had +come from Kinnard Towers, and it was proffered in a voice almost urbane +of tone. + +Henderson turned toward him. + +"That's a straight question and I'll answer it straight. To buy as much +property as I want along a possible railway line would cost too much +money. I'm gambling, not on the present but on the future. I come here +because I know the railroad is _not_ coming and for that reason prices +will be moderate." + +As he made this explanation the newcomer was watching the face of his +questioner almost eagerly. What he read there might spell the success +or failure of his plans. Any enterprise across which Kinnard Towers +stamped the word "prohibited" was an enterprise doomed to great +vicissitude in a land where his word was often above the law. + +But the blond and florid man granted him the satisfaction of no reply. +He gazed pensively at the logs crackling on the hearth and his features +were as inscrutably blank as those of the Sphinx. + +After a moment Towers did speak, but it was to his host and on another +topic. + +"Lone," he said, "thet firewood of yourn's right green an' sappy, +hain't it? Hit pops like ther fo'th of July." + +Brother Fulkerson spoke reflectively: "We needs two more things then +we've got in these hills--an' one thing less then we've got. We wants +roads an' schools--and the end of makin' white licker." + +Henderson saw Blossom slip from the bed and flit shadow-like through +the door, and a few moments later he missed, too, the eagerly attentive +presence of the boy. Blossom had escaped from the reek of tobacco smoke +inside, to the soft cadences of the night-song and the silver wash of +the moonlight. + +Turner Stacy found her sitting, with her face between her palms, under +a great oak that leaned out across the trickle of the creek, and when +he spoke her name, she raised eyes glistening with tears. + +"Blossom," he began in a contrite voice, "ye're mad at me, ain't ye? +Ye've done heerd about--about last night." Then he added with moody +self-accusation, "God knows I don't blame ye none." + +She turned her head away and did not at once answer. Suddenly her +throat choked and she broke into sobs that shook her with their +violence. The young man stood rigid, his face drawn with self-hatred +and at last she looked up at him. + +"Somehow, Turner," she said unsteadily, "hit wouldn't of been jest ther +same ef hit had been any other time. Yestiddy--up thar on ther +ridge--ye promised me thet ye'd be heedful with licker." + +"I knows I did," he declared bitterly. "Ye've got a right ter plumb +hate me." + +"Ef I'd a-hated ye," she reminded him simply, "I wouldn't sca'cely have +watched ther road all day." Then irrelevantly she demanded, "How did ye +git yore shoulder hurt?" + +The wish to defend himself with the palliations of last night's +desperate fatigue and the chill in his wound was a strong temptation, +but he repressed it. Knowledge of his encounter with Ratler Webb would +only alarm her and conjure up fears of unforgiving vengeance. + +"Hit war just a gun thet went off accidental-like," he prevaricated. "I +wasn't harmed none, Blossom." Then in a tense voice he continued: "I +only aimed ter drink a leetle--not too much--an' then somehow I didn't +seem ter hev ther power ter quit." + +He felt the lameness of that plea and broke off. + +"I'd been studyin' about what you said on ther ridge," she told him +falteringly, and the tremor of her voice electrified him. Again the +mountains on their ancient foundations grew unsteady before his eyes. + +"Does ye mean thet--thet despite last night--ye keers fer me?" + +He bent forward, lips parted and heart pounding--and her reply was an +unsteady whisper. + +"I hain't plumb dead sartain yit, Turner, but--but this mornin' I +couldn't think of nothin' else but you." + +"Blossom!" exclaimed the boy, his voice ringing with a solemn +earnestness. "I don't want thet ye shall hev ter feel shame fer +me--but----" + +Once again the words refused to come. The girl had risen now and stood +slender in the silver light, her lashes wet with tears. With that +picture in his eyes it became impossible to balance the other problems +of his life. So he straightened himself stiffly and turned his gaze +away from her. He was seeing instead a picture of the squat shanty +where the copper worm was at work in the shadow, and for him it was a +picture of bondage. + +So she waited, feeling some hint of realization for the struggle his +eyes mirrored. + +There would be many other wet nights up there, he reflected as his jaw +set itself grimly; many nights of chilled and aching bones with that +wild thirst creeping seductively, everpoweringly upon him out of the +darkness. There would be the clutch of longing, strangling his heart +and gnawing at his stomach. + +But if he _did_ promise and failed, he could never again recover his +self-respect. He would be doomed. With his face still averted, he spoke +huskily and laboriously. + +"I reckon thar hain't no way ter make ye understand, Blossom. I don't +drink like some folks, jest ter carouse. I don't oftentimes want ter +tech hit, but seems like sometimes I jest _has_ ter hev hit. Hit's most +gin'rally when I'm plumb sick of livin' on hyar withouten no chance ter +better myself." + +Even in the moonlight she could see that his face was drawn and pallid. +Then abruptly he wheeled: + +"Ther Stacys always keeps thar bonds. I reckons ye wants me ter give ye +my hand thet I won't never tech another drop, Blossom, but I kain't do +thet yit--I've got ter fight hit out fust an' be plumb dead sartain +thet I could keep my word ef I pledged hit----" + +Blossom heard her father calling her from the porch and as she seized +the boy's arms she found them set as hard as rawhide. + +"I understands, Turney," she declared hastily, "an'--an'--I'm a-goin' +ter be prayin' fer ye afore I lays down ternight!" + +As Turner watched the preacher mount and ride away, his daughter +walking alongside, he did not return to the house. He meant to fight it +out in his own way. Last night when the hills had rocked to the fury of +the storm--he had surrendered. To-night when the moonlit slopes drowsed +in the quiet of silver mists, the storm was in himself. Within a few +feet of the gate he took his seat at the edge of a thick rhododendron +bush, where the shadow blotted him into total invisibility. He sat +there drawn of face and his hands clenched and unclenched themselves. +He did not know it, but, in his silence and darkness, he was growing. +There was for him a touch of Golgotha in those long moments of +reflection and something of that anguished concentration which one sees +in Rodin's figure of "The Thinker"--that bronze man bent in the +melancholy travail of the birth of thought. + +When an hour later Kinnard Towers and his cortege trooped out of Lone +Stacy's house, Jerry Henderson, willing to breathe the freshness of the +night, strolled along. + +The men with the rifles swung to their saddles and rode a few rods +away, but Towers himself lingered and at last with a steady gaze upon +the stranger he made a tentative suggestion. + +"I don't aim ter discourage a man thet's got fine ideas, Mr. Henderson, +but hev ye duly considered thet when ye undertakes ter wake up a +country thet's been slumberin' as ye puts hit, fer two centuries, ye're +right apt ter find some sleepy-heads thet would rather be--left alone?" + +"I'm not undertaking a revolution," smiled the new arrival. "I'm only +aiming to show folks, by my own example, how to better themselves." + +The man who stood as the sponsor of the old order mounted and looked +down from his saddle. + +"Hain't thet right smart like a doctor a-comin' in ter cure a man," he +inquired dryly, "a-fore ther sick person hes sent fer him? Sometimes +ther ailin' one moutn't take hit kindly." + +"I should say," retorted Henderson blandly, "that it's more like the +doctor who hangs out his shingle--so that men can come if they like." + +There was a momentary silence and at its end Towers spoke again with +just a hint of the enigmatical in his voice. + +"Ye spoke in thar of havin' personal knowledge thet ther railroad +didn't aim ter come acrost Cedar Mounting, didn't ye?" + +"Yes." + +"Well now, Mr. Henderson--not meanin' ter dispute ye none--I don't feel +so sartain about thet." + +"I spoke from fairly definite information." + +The man on horseback nodded. + +"I aims ter talk pretty plain. We're a long ways behind ther times up +hyar, an' thet means thet we likes ter sort of pass on folks thet comes +ter dwell amongst us." + +"I call that reasonable, Mr. Towers." + +"I'm obleeged ter ye. Now jest let's suppose thet ther railroad _did_ +aim ter come in atter all an' let's jest suppose for ther fun of ther +thing, thet hit likewise aimed ter grab off all ther best coal an' +timber rights afore ther pore, ign'rant mountain-men caught on ter what +war happenin'. In sich a case, ther fust step would be ter send a man +on ahead, wouldn't hit--a mountain man, if possible--ter preach thet +ther railroad didn't aim ter come? Thet would mean bargains, wouldn't +hit?" + +Jerry Henderson laughed aloud. + +"Do you mean that you suspect me of such a mission?" + +Glancing about to assure himself that no one heard except his single +auditor, the erstwhile hirer of assassins bent over his saddle pommel. +Into the suavity of his voice had crept a new hardness and into the +pale color of his eyes an ominous glint. + +"Back in ther days of ther war with England, Mr. Henderson, I've heered +tell thet our grandsires hed a flag with a rattlesnake on hit, an' ther +words, 'Don't tread on me!' Some folks says we're right-smart like our +grandsires back hyar in ther timber." + +"If that's a threat, Mr. Towers," said Henderson steadily, "I make it a +point never to understand them." + +"An' I makes hit a point never ter give them more then onct. I don't +say I suspicions ye--but I do _p'intedly_ say this ter ye: Whatever +yore real project air, afore ye goes inter hit too deep--afore ye +invests all ye've got, an' all yore mother hes got an' all yore sister +hes got, hit mout be right heedful ter ride over ter my dwellin'-house +an' hev speech with me." + +An indignant retort rose to Jerry's lips, but with diplomatic +forbearance he repressed it. + +"When I've been here a while, I guess your suspicions will be allayed +without verbal assurances, Mr. Towers." + +"Even if ye only comes preachin' ther drivin' out of licker," said +Towers slowly, "ye're treadin' on my friends. We suffers Sabbath talk +like thet from preachers, but we don't relish hit on week-days from +strangers. In thar a while back I listened. I seen ye an' Brother +Fulkerson a-stirrin' up an' onsettlin' ther young folks. I kin feel +ther restless things thet's a-ridin' in ther wind ter-night, Mr. +Henderson, an' hit hain't sca'cely right ter bring trouble on these +folks thet's shelterin' ye." + +Bear Cat Stacy, unseen but eagerly listening, felt a leaping of +resentment in his veins. All the feudal instincts that had their +currents there woke to wrath as he heard his hereditary enemy warning +away his guest. It was the intolerable affront of a hint that the power +of the Stacys had dwindled and waned until it could no longer secure +the protection of its own roof-trees. + +With the anger of Marmion for Angus, sternly repressed but forceful, +Bear Cat suddenly stood out revealed in the moonlight. He had only to +take a step, but the effect was precisely that of having been suddenly +materialized out of nothingness, and when his voice announced him, even +the case-hardened control of Kinnard Towers suffered a violent jolt of +surprise. + +"I reckon, Kinnard Towers," said the boy with a velvety evenness of +voice, "ther day hain't hardly come yit when ther Stacys hes ter ask ye +what visitors they kin take inter thar dwellin'-houses. I reckon mebby +Mr. Henderson's ideas may suit some folks hyarabouts, even if they +don't pleasure you none. So long as he aims ter tarry hyar, an' we aims +ter enjoy him, ther man thet seeks ter harm him will hev ter come hyar +an' git him." + +Never since the fend had ended in a pact of peace, had two factional +leaders come so near a rupture. Henderson could feel the ominous +tensity in the air, but Towers himself only shook his head and laughed. +It was a good-humored laugh, since this was not the time for open +enmity. + +"Oh, pshaw, son! I reckon nobody don't aim no harm to Mr. Henderson. I +jest knows this country an' he ought ter realize thet my counsel mout +help him." There was a brief pause and then with an audacity of +bantering Kinnard proceeded. "I've done heered thet ye tuck yore dram +onct in a while yoreself--mebby you've got friends thet makes +licker--an' you knows how they mout feel about too much talk." + +Bear Cat Stacy stood with his shoulders drawn back and his eyes +smoldering. + +"Thet's my business," he retorted curtly, but the Quarterhouse baron +went on with the same teasing smile. + +"Mebby so, son, but hit kinderly 'peared like ter me thet Brother +Fulkerson's gal war a-'lowin' thet hit war _her_ business, too. I +overheered yore maw say somethin' 'bout yore drinkin' some last night +an' I seed Blossom's purty eyes flash." + +The mounted man waved his hand and rode away, his escort falling in at +front and rear, but when the cavalcade had turned the angle of the road +Kinnard Towers beckoned Black Tom Carmichael to his side and spoke +grimly. + +"Thar's trouble breedin', Tom, an' this young Bear Cat Stacy's in ther +b'ilin'. Ye played ther fool when yer failed ter git him as a kid. Hit +war only a-layin' up torment erginst ther future." + +Henderson lay long awake that night in the loft which he shared with +Bear Cat. He heard the snores of the man and woman sleeping below, but +the unmoving figure beside him had not relaxed in slumber. Henderson +wondered if he were reflecting upon that talk by the gate and all the +dark possibilities it might presage. + +It was almost dawn, when Bear Cat slipped from under his quilt, drew on +his shoes and trousers and left the loft-like attic, his feet making no +sound on the rungs of the ladder. + +What furtive mission was taking him out, pondered Henderson, into the +laurel-masked hills at that hour? + +But out in the creek-bed road, with the setting moon on his face, Bear +Cat Stacy paused and drank in a long breath. + +"He seen Blossom's eyes flash, he said," murmured the boy with his +hands clenched at his sides, then he threw back his shoulders and spoke +half aloud and very resolutely: "Wa'al they won't never hev ter flash +no more fer thet cause." After a little while, his gaze fixed on the +myriad stars, he spoke again. "God Almighty, I needs thet ye should +holp me now. I aims ter go dry fer all time--an' I kain't hardly +compass hit withouten ye upholds me." + +Wheeling abruptly, he went with long strides around the turn of the +road. A half hour later he was noiselessly opening the gate of the +preacher's house. He meant to wait there until Blossom awoke, but +prompted by habit he gave, thrice repeated, the quavering and perfectly +counterfeited call of a barn owl. Since she had been a very small girl, +that had been their signal, and though she would not hear it now, it +pleased him to repeat it. + +Then to his astonishment he heard, very low, the whining creak of an +opening door, and there before him, fully dressed, intently awake, +stood the girl herself. + +"Blossom," said Bear Cat in a low voice that trembled a little, +"Blossom, I came over ter wail hyar till ye woke up. I came ter tell +ye--thet I'm ready ter give ye my hand. I hain't never goin' ter tech a +drap of licker no more, so long es I lives. I says hit ter ye with God +Almighty listenin'." + +"Oh, Turney----!" she exclaimed, then her voice broke and her eyes swam +with tears. "I'm--I'm right proud of ye," was all she could find the +words to add. + +"Did I wake ye up?" demanded the boy in a voice of self-accusation. "I +didn't aim to. I 'lowed I'd wait till mornin'." + +Blossom shook her head. "I hain't been asleep yit," she assured him. +Her cheeks flushed and she drooped her head as she explained. "I've +been a-prayin, Turney. God's done answered my prayer." + +Turner Stacy took off his hat and shook back the dark lock of hair that +fell over his forehead. Beads of moisture stood out on his temples. + +"Did ye keer--thet much, Blossom?" he humbly questioned, and suddenly +the girl threw both arms about his neck. "I keers all a gal _kin_ keer, +Turney. I wasn't sartain afore--but I knowed hit es soon as I begun +prayin' fer ye." + +Standing there in the pallid mistiness before dawn, and yielding her +lips to the pressure of his kiss, Blossom felt the almost religious +solemnity of the moment. She was crossing the boundary of acknowledged +love--and he had passed through the stress of terrific struggle before +he had been able to bring her his pledge. His face, now cool, had been +hot with its fevered passion. But she did not know that out of this +moment was to be born transforming elements of change destined to shake +her life and his; to quake the very mountains themselves; to rend the +old order's crust, and finally, after tempest and bloodshed--to bring +the light of a new day. No gift of prophecy told her that, of the +parentage of this declaration of her love and this declaration of his +pledge, was to be born in him a warrior's spirit of crusade which could +only reach victory after all the old vindictive furies had been roused +to wrath--and conquered--and the shadow of tragedy had touched them +both. + +And had Bear Cat Stacy, holding her soft cheek pressed to his own, been +able to look even a little way ahead, he would have gone home and +withdrawn the hospitality he had pledged to the guest who slept there. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +Because Jerry Henderson viewed the life of the hills through +understanding eyes, certain paradoxes resolved themselves into the +expected. He was not surprised to find under Lone Stacy's rude exterior +an innate politeness which was a thing not of formula but of instinct. + +"Would hit pleasure ye," demanded the host casually the next morning, +"ter go along with me up thar an' see that same identical still thet I +tuck sich pains yestiddy ye _shouldn't_ see?" But Henderson shook his +head, smiling. + +"No, thank you. I'd rather not see any still that I can avoid. What I +don't know can't get me--or anyone else--into trouble." + +Lone Stacy nodded his approval as he said: "I didn't aim ter deny ye no +mark of confi_dence_. I 'lowed I'd ought ter ask ye." + +Turner Stacy stood further off from illiteracy than his father. In the +loft which the visitor had shared with him the night before he had +found a copy of the Kentucky Statutes and one of Blackstone's +Commentaries, though neither of them was so fondly thumbed as the life +of Lincoln. + +By adroit questioning Jerry elicited the information that the boy had +been as far along the way of learning as the sadly deficient district +schools could conduct him; those shambling wayside institutions where, +on puncheon benches, the children memorize in that droning chorus from +which comes the local name of "blab-school." + +Turner had even taken his certificate and taught for a term in one of +these pathetic places. He laughed as he confessed this: "Hit jest +proves how pore ther schools air, hyarabouts," he avowed. + +"I expect you'd have liked to go to college," inquired Henderson, and +the boy's eyes blazed passionately with his thwarted lust for +opportunity--then dimmed to wretchedness. + +"Like hit! Hell, Mr. Henderson, I'd lay my left hand down, without +begrudgin' hit, an' cut hit off at ther wrist fer ther chanst ter do +thet!" + +Henderson sketched for him briefly the histories of schools that had +come to other sections of the hills; schools taught by inspired +teachers, with their model farms, their saw-mills and even their +hospitals: schools to which not only children but pupils whose hair had +turned white came and eagerly learned their alphabets, and as much more +as they sought. + +The boy raised a hand. "Fer God's sake don't narrate them things," he +implored. "They sots me on fire. My grandsires hev been satisfied hyar +fer centuries an' all my folks sees in me, fer dreamin' erbout things +like thet, is lackin' of loyalty." + +Henderson found his interest so powerfully engaged that he talked on +with an excess of enthusiasm. + +"But back of those grandsires were other grandsires, Turner. They were +the strongest, the best and the most American of all America; those +earlier ancestors of yours and mine. They dared to face the wilderness, +and those that got across the mountains won the West." + +"Ours didn't git acrost though," countered the boy dryly. "Ours was +them thet started out ter do big things an' failed." + +Henderson smiled. "A mule that went lame, a failure to strike one of +the few possible passes, made all the difference between success and +failure in that pilgrimage, but the blood of those empire-builders is +our blood and what they are now, we shall be when we catch up. We've +been marking time while they were marching, that's all." + +"Ye've done been off ter college yoreself, hain't ye, Mr. Henderson?" + +"Yes. Harvard." + +"Harvard? Seems ter me I've heered tell of hit. Air hit as good as +Berea?" + +The visitor repressed his smile, but before he could answer Bear Cat +pressed on: + +"Whilst ye're up hyar, I wonder ef hit'd be askin' too master much of +ye ef--" the boy paused, gulped down his embarrassment and continued +hastily--"ef ye could kinderly tell me a few books ter read?" + +"Gladly," agreed Henderson. "It's the young men like you who have the +opportunity to make life up here worth living for the rest." + +After a moment Bear Cat suggested dubiously: "But amongst my folks I +wouldn't git much thanks fer tryin'. Ther outside world stands fer +interference--an' they won't suffer hit. They believes in holdin' with +their kith an' kin." + +Again Henderson nodded, and this time the smile that danced in his eyes +was irresistibly infectious. In a low voice he quoted: + + "The men of my own stock + They may do ill or well, + But they tell the lies I am wonted to, + They are used to the lies I tell. + We do not need interpreters + When we go to buy and sell." + +Bear Cat Stacy stood looking off over the mountain sides. He filled his +splendidly rounded chest with a deep draft of the morning air,--air as +clean and sparkling as a fine wine, and into his veins stole an ardor +like intoxication. + +In his eyes kindled again that light, which had made Henderson think of +volcanoes lying quiet with immeasurable fires slumbering at their +hearts. + +Last night the boy had fought out the hardest battle of his life, and +to-day he was one who had passed a definite mile-post of progress. This +morning, too, a seed had dropped and a new life influence was stirring. +It would take storm and stress and seasons to bring it to fulfilment, +perhaps. The poplar does not grow from seed to great tree in a +day--but, this morning, the seed had begun to swell and quicken. + +What broke, like the fledgling of a new conception, in Bear Cat's +heart, was less palpably but none the less certainly abroad in the air, +riding the winds--with varied results. + +That an outside voice was speaking: a voice which was dangerous to the +old gods of custom, was the conviction entertained, not with elation +but with somber resentment in the mind of Kinnard Towers. Upon that +realization followed a grim resolve to clip the wings of innovation +while there was yet time. It was no part of this crude dictator's +program to suffer a stranger, with a gift for "glib speech," to curtail +his enjoyment of prerogatives built upon a lifetime of stress and +proven power. + +Back of Cedar Mountain, where there are few telephones, news travels on +swift, if unseen wings. Henderson had not been at Lone Stacy's house +twenty-four hours when the large excitement of his coming, gathering +mythical embellishment as it passed from mouth to mouth, was +mysteriously launched. + +Wayfarers, meeting in the road and halting for talk, accosted each +other thus: + +"I heer tell thar's a man over ter Lone Stacy's house thet's done been +clar ter ther other world an' back. He's met up with all character of +outlanders." + +Having come back from "ther other world" did not indeed mean, as might +be casually inferred, that Henderson had risen from his grave; +relinquishing his shroud for a rehabilitated life. It signified only +that he had been "acrost the waters"--a matter almost as vague. So the +legend grew as it traveled, endowing Jerry with a "survigrous" +importance. + +"Folks says," went the rumor, "thet he knows ways fer a man ter make a +livin' offen these-hyar tormentin' rocks. Hev ye seed him yit?" + +Having come to the house of Lone Stacy, it was quite in accordance with +the custom of the hills that he should remain there indefinitely. His +plans for acquiring land meant first establishing himself in popular +esteem and to this end no means could have contributed more directly +than acceptance under a Stacy roof. + +With the younger Stacy this approval was something more: it savored of +hero-worship and upon Henderson's store of wisdom, Bear Cat's avid +hunger for knowledge feasted itself. + +Henderson saw Blossom often in these days and her initial shyness, in +his presence, remained obdurate. But through it he caught, with a +refreshing quality, the quick-flashing alertness of her mind and he +became anxious to win her confidence and friendship. + +And she, for all her timidity, was profoundly impressed and fed +vicariously on his wisdom--through the enthusiastic relaying of Bear +Cat Stacy's narration. + +When conversation with Jerry was unavoidable, Turner noted that she was +giving a new and unaccustomed care to her diction, catching herself up +from vernacular to an effort at more correct forms. + +"Blossom," he gravely questioned her one day, "what makes ye so mindful +of yore P's and Q's when ye hes speech with Jerry Henderson?" + +"I reckon hit's jest shame fer my ign'rance," she candidly replied, +forgetting to be ashamed of it now that the stranger was no longer +present. + +"And yit," he reminded her, "ye've got more eddication now then +common--hyarabouts." + +"_Hyarabouts_, yes," came the prompt retort, touched with irony. "So +hev _you_. Air ye satisfied with hit?" + +"No," he admitted honestly. "God knows I hain't!" + + * * * * * + +One evening Kinnard Towers entered the saloon at the Quarterhouse and +stood unobserved at the door, as he watched the roistering crowd about +the bar. It was a squalid place, but to the foreign eye it would have +been, in a sordid sense, interesting. Its walls and the eight-foot +stockade that went around it were stoutly builded of hewn timbers as +though it had been planned with a view toward defense against siege. + +A few lithographed calendars from mail-order houses afforded the sole +note of decoration to the interior. The ordinary bar-mirror was +dispensed with. It could hardly have come across the mountain intact. +Had it come it could scarcely have survived. + +The less perishable fixtures of woodwork and ceiling bore testimony to +that in their pitted scars reminiscent of gun-play undertaken in rude +sport--and in deadly earnest. The shutters, heavy and solid, had on +occasion done service as stretchers and cooling boards. Vilely odorous +kerosene lamps swung against the walls, dimly abetted by tin +reflectors, and across the floor went the painted white line of the +state border. At the room's exact center were two huge letters. That +east of the line was V. and that west was K. + +The air was thick with the reek of smoke and the fumes of liquor. The +boisterousness was raucously profane--the general atmosphere was that +of an unclean rookery. + +As the proprietor stood at the threshold, loud guffaws of maudlin +laughter greeted his ears and, seeking the concrete cause, his gaze +encountered Ratler Webb, propped against the bar, somewhat redder of +eye and more unsteady on his legs than usual. Obviously he was the +enraged butt of ill-advised heckling. + +"Ye hadn't ought ter hev crossed Bear Cat," suggested a badgering +voice. "Then ye wouldn't hev a busted nose. He's a bad man ter fool +with. Thar war witches at his bornin'." + +"I reckon Bear Cat knows what's healthful fer him," snarled Webb. "When +we meets in ther highway he rides plumb round me." + +The speaker broke off and, with a sweeping truculence, challenged +contradiction. "Air any of you men friends of his'n? Does airy one of +ye aim ter dispute what I says?" Silence ensued, possibly influenced by +the circumstance that Ratler's hand was on his pistol grip as he spoke, +so he continued: + +"Ef I sought ter be a damn' tale-bearer, I could penitenshery him fer +blockadin' right now, but thet wouldn't satisfy me nohow. I aims ter +handle him my own self." + +Again there was absence of contradiction near about the braggart, +though ripples of derisive mirth trickled in from the outskirts. + +Ratler jerked out his weapon and leaned against the bar. As he waved +the muzzle about he stormed furiously: "Who laughed back thar?" And no +one volunteered response. + +Webb squinted hazily up at one of the reflector-backed lamps. "Damn +thet light," he exclaimed. "Hit hurts my eyes." There followed a report +and the lamp fell crashing. + +For a brief space the drunken man stood holding the smoking weapon in +his hand, then he looked up and started, but this time he let the +pistol swing inactive at his side and the truculent blackness of his +face faded to an expression of dismay. + +Kinnard Towers stood facing him with an unpleasant coldness in his +eyes. + +"I reckon, Ratler," suggested the proprietor, "ye'd better come along +with me. I wants ter hev peaceable speech with ye." + +In a room above-stairs Kinnard motioned him to a chair much as a +teacher might command a child taken red-handed in some mad prank. + +"Ratler, hit hain't a right wise thing ter talk over-much," he +volunteered at last. "Whar air thet still ye spoke erbout--Bear Cat +Stacy's still?" + +Webb cringed. + +"I war jest a-talkin'. I don't know nuthin' erbout no sich still." + +What means of loosening unwilling tongues Kinnard Towers commanded was +his own secret. A half hour later he knew what he wished to know and +Ratler Webb left the place. Upon his Ishmaelite neck was firmly +fastened the collar of vassalage to the baron of the Quarterhouse. + +On the day following that evening Towers talked with Black Tom +Carmichael. + +"This man Henderson," he said musingly, "air plumb stirring up ther +country. I reckon hit'd better be seen to." + +Black Tom nodded. "Thet oughtn't ter be much trouble." But Towers shook +his blond head with an air of less assured confidence. + +"Ter me hit don't look like no easy matter. Lone Stacy's givin' him +countenance. Ef I war ter run him outen these parts I reckon ther +Stacys would jest about swarm inter war over hit." + +"What does ye aim ter do, Kinnard?" + +"So far I'm only bidin' my time, but I aims ter keep a mighty sharp eye +on him. He hain't made no move yit, but he's gainin' friends fast an' a +man's obleeged ter kinderly plan ahead. When ther time's ripe he's got +ter go." Towers paused, then added significantly, "One way or +another--but afore thet's undertook, I 'lows ter git rid of his +protectors." + +"Thet's a mighty perilous thing ter try, Kinnard," demurred the +lieutenant in a voice fraught with anxiety. "Ye kain't bring hit ter +pass without ye opens up ther war afresh--an' _this_ time they'd hev +Bear Cat ter lead 'em." + +But Towers smiled easily. + +"I've got a plan, Tom. They won't even suspicion I knows anything about +events. I'm goin' ter foller Mr. Henderson's counsel an' do things ther +_new_ way, 'stid of ther old." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +Henderson found Brother Fulkerson a preacher who, more by service and +example and comforting the disconsolate than by pulpit oratory, held a +strong influence upon his people, and commanded their deep devotion. + +His quiet ministry had indeed been heard of beyond the hills and even +in the black days of feudal hatred, dead lines had been wiped out for +him so that he came and went freely among both factions, and no man +doubted him. + +Kindly, grave and steadfast, Henderson found him to be, and possessed +of a natively shrewd brain, as well. Blossom was usually at the +Fulkerson house when Jerry called, but she fitted silently in the +background and her eyes regarded him with that shy gravity, in which he +found an insurmountable barrier to better acquaintance. + +One morning as he passed the Fulkerson abode he found the girl alone by +the gate--and paused there. + +The season's first tenderness of greenery along the slopes had ripened +now to the sunburned and freckled warmth of midsummer, but the day was +young enough for lingering drops of the heavy dew to remain on the +petals of the morning-glories and the weed stalks along the roadside. +Between the waxen delicacy and rich variety of the morning-glory petals +and the bloom of the girl, Jerry fell musingly to tracing analogies. + +The morning-glory is among the most plebeian of flowering things, +boasting no nobility except a charm too fragile to endure long its +coarse companionship with smart-weed and mullen, so that each day it +comes confidently into being only to shrink shortly into disappointed +death. + +Blossom, too, would in the course of nature and environment, have a +brief bloom and a swift fading--but just now her beauty was only +enhanced by the pathos of its doom. + +"Blossom," he smilingly suggested, "I'd like to be friends with you, +just as I am with Turner. I'm not really an evil spirit you know, yet +you seem always half afraid of me." + +The girl's lashes drooped shyly, veiling her splendid eyes, but she +made no immediate response to his amenities, and Henderson laughed. + +"It's all the stranger," he said, "because I can't forget our first +meeting. Then you were the spirit of warfare. I can still seem to see +you standing there barring the path; your eyes ablaze and your nostrils +aquiver with righteous wrath." + +For an instant, in recollection of the incident, she forgot her +timidity and there flashed into her face the swift illumination of a +smile. + +"Thet war when I 'lowed ye war an enemy. Folks don't show no--I mean +don't show any--fear of thar enemies. Leastways--at least--mountain +folks don't." + +He understood that attitude, but he smiled, pretending to misconstrue +it. + +"Then I'm not dangerous as an enemy? It's only when I seek to be a +friend that I need be feared?" + +Her flush deepened into positive confusion and her reply was faltering. + +"I didn't mean nothin' like thet. Hit's jest thet when I tries ter talk +with ye, I feels so plumb ign'rant an'--an' benighted--thet--thet----" +She broke off and the man leaning on the fence bent toward her. + +"You mean that when you talk to me you think I'm comparing you with the +girls I know down below, isn't that it?" + +Blossom nodded her head and added, "With gals--girls I mean--that wears +fancy fixin's an' talks grammar." + +"Sit down there for a minute, Blossom," he commanded, and when she had +enthroned herself on the square-hewn horse-block by the gate he seated +himself, cross-legged at her feet. + +"Grammar isn't so very hard to learn," he assured her. "And any woman +who carries herself with your lance-like ease, starts out equipped with +more than 'fancy fixin's.' I want to tell you about a dream I had the +other night." + +At once her face grew as absorbed as a child's at the promise of a +fairy story. + +"I dreamed that I went to a very grand ball in a city down below. The +ladies were gorgeously dressed, but late in the evening an unknown girl +came into the room and everybody turned to look at her, forgetting all +the rest of the party." He paused a moment before adding, "I dreamed +that that girl was you." + +"What did they all hev ter say about me?" she eagerly demanded. + +"To be perfectly frank--you see it was a dream--most of them just +exclaimed: 'My God!'" + +"I don't hardly censure 'em," admitted Blossom. "I reckon I cut a right +sorry figger at that party." + +Henderson laughed aloud. + +"But don't you see, that wasn't it at all. They were all breathless +with admiration. You had the things they would have given all their +jewels for--things they can't buy." + +For a little space she looked at him with serious, pained eyes, +suspicious of ridicule, then the expression altered to bewilderment, +and her question came in a lowered voice. + +"Things I hev thet they lacks? What manner of things air them--I +mean----those?" + +"The very rare gifts of originality and an elfin personality," he +assured her. "Besides that you have beauty of the freshest and most +colorful sort." + +For a moment Blossom flushed again shyly, then she lifted one hand and +pointed across the road. + +"See thet white flower? Thet's wild parsely. I always calls it the pore +relation to the elder bush--but it's jest got to stay a pore +relation--always--because it started out thet way." + +Henderson, as the summer progressed, discovered an absurd thought +lurking in his mind with annoying pertinacity. He could not for long +banish the fanciful picture of Blossom Fulkerson transplanted--of +Blossom as she might be with fuller opportunities for development. +There is an undeniable fascination in building air-castles about the +Cinderella theme of human transformations and the sight of her always +teased his imagination into play. + +That these fantasies bore any personal relation to himself he did not +admit or even suspect. Readily enough, and satisfactorily enough he +explained to himself that he, who was accustomed to a life of teeming +activities, was here marooned in monotony. All things are measurable by +contrasts, and in her little world, Blossom stood out radiantly and +exquisitely different from her colorless sisters. When he had crossed +Cedar Mountain again and boarded a railroad train, more vital things +would engage him, and he would promptly forget the beautiful little +barbarian. + +One hot afternoon in late July Jerry Henderson sat in the lounging-room +of his club in Louisville. The windows were open and the street noises, +after the still whispers of the mountains, seemed to beat on his senses +with discordant insistence. Down the length of the broad, wainscoted +hall he saw a party of young men in flannels and girls in soft muslins +passing out and he growled testily. + +"All cut to a single pattern!" he exclaimed. "All impeccably +monotonous!" Then he irrelevantly added to himself, "I'm allowing +myself to become absurd--I expect its the damned heat. Anyhow she's +Bear Cat Stacy's gal!" + +As Jerry sat alone he was, quite unconsciously, affording a theme of +conversation for two fellow clubmen in the billiard-room. + +"I see Jerry Henderson has reappeared in our midst," commented one. "I +wonder what titanic enterprise is engaging his genius just now." + +"Give it up," was the laconic reply. "But whatever it is, I'm ready to +wager he'll emerge from it unscathed and that everybody who backs him +will be ruined. That's the history of his buccaneer activities up to +date." + +"What's his secret? Why don't his creditors fall on him and destroy +him?" inquired the first speaker and his companion yawned. + +"It's the damned charm of the fellow, I suppose. He could hypnotize the +Shah of Persia into Calvinism." + +For a moment the speakers fell silent, watching a shot on the +pool-table, then one of them spoke with languid interest. + +"Whatever we may think of our friend Henderson, he's a picturesque +figure, and he's running a most diverting race. He's always just a jump +behind a billion dollars and just a jump ahead of the wolf and the +constable." + +While this conversation proceeded, a heavy-set and elderly gentleman, +with determined eyes, entered the club. It was President Wallace of the +C. and S-E Railways, and palpably something was on his mind. + +Glancing in at the reading-room, and seeing Henderson there, he +promptly disposed himself in a heavily cushioned chair at his side and +inquired: + +"Well, what have you to report?" + +"Very little so far," rejoined Henderson with his suavest smile. "You +see, there's a man up there who has an annoying capacity for seeing +into things and through things. On the day of my arrival he put his +finger on my actual purpose in coming." + +"You mean Kinnard Towers, I presume." The railroad president drummed +thoughtfully on the table-top with his fingers. "I was afraid he would +try to hold us up." + +Jerry nodded. "He pretends to be unalterably opposed to innovation, but +I fancy he really wants to be let in on the ground floor. He has +decided that unless he shares our loot, there is to be no plundering." + +"Possibly," the railroad magnate spoke thoughtfully, "we'd better meet +his terms. The damned outlaw has power up there and we stand to win--or +lose--a little empire of wealth." + +Henderson's closed fist fell softly but very firmly on the table. His +tone was smooth and determined. "Please leave me in command for a +while, Mr. Wallace. I mean to beat this highbinder at his own favorite +game. If we yield to him he'll emasculate our profits. You gave me five +years when we first discussed this thing. In that time I can accomplish +it." + +"Take seven if you need them. It's worth it." + +Sitting in the smoking-car of the train that was transporting him again +from civilization to "back of beyond," Jerry Henderson found himself +absorbed in somewhat disquieting thoughts. + +He gazed out with a dulled admiration on the fertility of blue-grass +farms where the land rolled with as smooth and gracious a swell as a +woman's bosom. Always heretofore the Central Kentucky mansions with +their colonial dignity and quiet air of pride had brought an eager +appreciation to his thoughts--the tribute of one who worships an +aristocracy based on wealth. + +But now when he saw again the tangled underbrush and outcropping rock +of the first foothills, something in him cried out, for the first time +since boyhood, "I'm going home!" When the altitudes began to clamber +into the loftiness of peaks, with wet streamers of cloud along their +slopes, the feeling grew. The sight of an eagle circling far overhead +almost excited him. + +Jerry Henderson was a soldier of fortune, with Napoleonic dreams, and +finance was his terrain of conquest. To its overweening ambition he had +subordinated everything else. To that attainment he had pointed his +whole training, cultivating himself not only in the practicalities of +life but also in its refinements, until his bearing, his speech, his +manners were possibly a shade too meticulously perfect; too impeccably +starched. + +Where other men had permitted themselves mild adventures in love and +moderate indulgence in drink, he had set upon his conduct a rigid +censorship. + +His heart, like his conduct, had been severely schooled, for upon +marriage, as upon all else, he looked with an opportunist's eye. + +His wife must come as an ally, strengthening his position socially and +financially. She must be a lady of the old aristocracy, bringing to his +house cultivated charm and the power of wealth. She must be fitted, +when he took his place among the financially elect, to reign with him. + +So it was strange that as he sat here in the smoking-car he should be +thinking of an unlettered girl across Cedar Mountain, and acknowledging +with a boyish elation that on the way to Lone Stacy's house he would +pass her cabin, see her--hear the lilting music of her laugh. + +And when Cedar Mountain itself rose before him he swung his way with +buoyant stride, up one side and down the other of the range. + +Blossom was not in sight when at last he reached the Fulkerson cabin, +but the door stood open and Henderson approached it stealthily. He +paused for a moment, pondering how conspicuously the small house +contrasted with the shabbiness of its neighborhood. It was as trim as a +Swiss chalet, reflecting the personality of its mistress. Door frames +and window casings were neatly painted--and he knew that was Bear Cat's +labor of love. The low hickory-withed chairs on the porch were put +together with an approach to a craftsman's skill--and he knew that, +too, was Bear Cat's labor of love. + +As he reached the porch he saw the girl herself sitting just within, +and a broad shaft of sun fell across her, lighting the exquisite +quality of her cheeks and the richness of her hair. She was bending +studiously over a book, and her lips were drooping with an unconscious +wistfulness. + +Then, as his shadow fell, Blossom looked up and, in the sudden delight +with which she came to her feet, she betrayed her secret of a welcome +deeper than that accorded to a friendly but casual stranger. + +They were still very much engrossed in each other when half an hour +later Bear Cat Stacy appeared without warning in the door. For just a +moment he halted on the threshold with pained eyes, before he entered. + +The two men walked home together and, along the way, the younger was +unaccountably silent. His demeanor had relapsed into that shadow of +sullenness which it had often worn before Henderson's coming. + +Finally Jerry smilingly demanded an explanation and Bear Cat Stacy +turned upon him a face which had suddenly paled. He spoke with a dead +evenness. + +"We've been honest with each other up to now, Mr. Henderson, an' I +demands thet ye be honest with me still." + +"I aim to be, Turner. What is it?" + +The younger man gulped down a lump which had suddenly risen in his +throat, and jerked his head toward the house they had just left. + +"Hit's Blossom. Does ye aim ter--ter co'te her?" + +"Court her! What put such an idea into your head?" + +"Never mind what put hit thar. I've got ter know! Blossom hain't never +promised ter wed me, yit, but----" He broke off and for a little while +could not resume though his face was expressive enough of his +wretchedness. Finally he echoed: "I've got to know! Ef she'd rather +marry _you_, she's got a license ter choose a-tween us. Only I hadn't +never thought of thet--an'----." Once more he fell silent. + +"My God, Turner," exclaimed Jerry, with a sudden realization of the +absurdity of such an idea, "I could have no thought of marrying her." + +"Why couldn't ye?" For an instant the gray eyes narrowed and into them +came a dangerous gleam. "Hain't she good enough--fer you or any other +man?" + +Jerry Henderson nodded with grave assent. + +"She's good enough for any man alive," he declared. "But I can't think +of marriage at all now. All my plans of life prohibit that." Bear Cat +Stacy drank in the clear air in a long breath of joyous relief. + +"That's all I needs ter know," he said with entire sincerity. "Only," +his voice dropped and he spoke very gently, "only, I reckon ye don't +realize how much yore eddycation counts with us thet wants hit an' +hain't got hit. Don't let her misunderstand ye none, Mr. Henderson. I +don't want ter see her hurt." + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +Marlin Town lies cradled in the elbow of the river and about its ragged +edges the hills stand beetling, hemming it in. + +Had it been located in Switzerland, it would have been acclaimed in +guide-book and traveler's tales for the sheer beauty of its +surroundings. + +Hither, when the summer had spent its heat and the hard duties of the +farmer had relaxed, flocked the men and women and the children of the +country side for that annual diversion which combined with the ardor of +religious pilgrimage a long-denied hunger for personal intercourse and +excitement. Then, in fine, came "big-meeting time." + +The clans gathered from "'way over on t'other side of nowhars." They +trooped in from communities which the circuit rider visited so rarely +that it was no disgrace for a man and a maid to dwell together as man +and wife until a child had been born to them before opportunity came to +have the marriage rites solemnized. They flocked from localities so +remote that in them sometimes the dead lay buried without funeral until +an itinerant minister chanced by to hold obsequies over all delinquent +graves in common. It is even told how occasionally a widowed husband +wept over the mortal remains of his first and second wife--at a sermon +held for both. + +So while the magnet which draws them out of their deep-burrowed +existence is the Camp-meeting with its hymns and discourse, the +occasion holds also the secular importance of county-fair and social +conclave. + +Brother Fulkerson left his cabin before daylight one morning for the +journey to town, riding his old mare, with his daughter on a pillion +behind him. With them started Lone Stacy, Bear Cat and Henderson, +though since these three must travel with only two mules, the younger +men followed the ancient custom of "riding and tying"--alternating in +the saddle and on foot. + +The air held the heady bouquet of autumn now with the flavor of cider +presses and of ripened fox-grapes for the delight of the nostril and +the dreamy softness of hazy horizons for the eye. + +Oak and poplar flaunted their carnival color along the hillsides. +Maples threw out scarlet and orange banners against the sedate tone of +the pines and cedars. Among the falling acorns of the woods, mast-fed +razor-backs were fattening against the day of slaughter, when for a +little while the scantily supplied cabin-dwellers would be abundantly +provisioned with pork and cider. + +Bear Cat's eyes dwelt steadfastly on Blossom, and Jerry Henderson's +turned toward her oftener than he meant them to. There was, in the air, +a pervasive holiday spirit. + +Roads usually so bare of travel were full now, full with a rude +procession of wayfarers; men trudging along with trailing families at +their heels; calico-clad women riding sideways on bony steeds, +sometimes bizarre in fanciful efforts at finery; tow-headed children +with wide-staring eyes. + +Then at last they were in Marlin Town, rubbing shoulders with all the +narrow mountain world. There was Kinnard Towers riding among his +rifle-armed henchmen. He sat stiff in his saddle, baronially pleased as +men pointed him out,--and Jerry thought it a safe wager that Kinnard +had not come as a convert to the mourners' bench. + +Towers nodded affably and shouted his salutation in passing. + +But among all the strange types foregathered here with a tone of the +medieval about them and over them, none were more fantastic than the +two preachers who were to conduct the revival. Brother Fulkerson and +his party encountered this pair as they passed the Court-house. Both +were tall, cadaverous and preternaturally solemn of visage. Both wore +rusty Prince Albert coats faded to a threadbare green. One had a collar +and no necktie; the other a necktie and no collar. Between the frayed +bottoms of shrunken trousers and the battered tops of crude brogans +each showed a dusty and unstockinged shank. + +"Who are these preachers we're going to hear?" inquired Jerry +Henderson, and Brother Fulkerson shook his head dubiously. + +"I heer tell thet they're some new sect," was the guarded reply. "I +don't hold with them none, myself." + +"They are sensational exhorters, I take it," hazarded Jerry, and again +the preacher from across the mountain tempered his criticism with +charity: + +"Folks say so. I don't aim ter jedge 'em though--leastways not till +I've sat under th'ar discourse first." + +But Bear Cat was restrained by no such inhibition and his voice was +openly scornful. + +"They're ther sort of preachers thet keeps folks benighted. All they +teaches is superstition an' ign'rance." + +"Son," suggested Lone Stacy with a grave consideration, "I wouldn't +hardly condemn 'em unheard, ef I was you. They claims ter be preachers +of God's word, an' thar's room, a-plenty, fer all sorts an' sects." + +But the younger man's eyes glowed with that tawny fire of militant +rebellion, which was awakening in him against all the shackling +influences of mental lethargy. + +"They don't believe in book larnin'," went on Bear Cat contemptuously, +"because they says thar hain't no Holy Ghost in hit. They harangues so +long es thar wind holds out, an' all they keers about is how many takes +a big through at meetin'." + +Jerry smiled at the characterization. He had seen men and women "take +big throughs," that hysterical--and often ephemeral declaration of +conversion which measures its over-wrought zeal by the vehemence of +outcry and bodily contortion with which the convert comes through to +the mourners' bench. + +Later in the day Henderson and Bear Cat, returning from the livery +stable, were walking single-file along the narrow plank that served as +a sidewalk, when they encountered a young man, blood-shot of eye and +malevolent of expression. Either Bear Cat Stacy who was in advance or +the newcomer must step down into the mud and surrender the +right-of-way. If pedestrians so situated are friends, each will be +prompt of courtesy. If they are enemies, ethics require that the weaker +will must yield and the stronger hold to its rights. + +Now Henderson perceived that the two were confronting each other +rigidly. Over Turner's shoulder he could see the bleary eyes of the +other smolder with a wrath that he knew meant blood-lust as Bear Cat +waved his hand in an imperious gesture which commanded as plainly as +words, "Give me the road!" + +It was a brief and tense situation, but it was being publicly observed +and he who surrendered would be branded in street-corner gossip with +cowardice. + +Passers-by, across the way, halted and held their breath. The more +timid glanced about for shelter should gun-play ensue, but after an +instant Ratler Webb turned grudgingly aside and stepped down into the +outer road. Bear Cat Stacy walked on, stiffly erect, and he did not +turn his head for a backward glance. + +Ratler halted where he stood, dangerously snarling, and his hand +fumbled for a moment under his coat. He challengingly swept the faces +of all men in sight, and murmurs of laughter, which had broken out in +sheer relief at a relaxed tension, died as abruptly as they had begun. +Every pair of eyes became studiously inattentive. + + * * * * * + +Through the crowds that overflowed the town moved one figure who seemed +more the Ishmaelite than even the disgraced Ratler. + +Men who had, in the past, plotted against each other's lives to-day +"met an' made their manners" with all outward guise of complete amity, +yet this one figure walked ungreeted or recognized only with the curt +nod which was in itself a modified ostracism. It must be said of him +that he bore the baleful insistence of public enmity with a +half-contemptuous steadiness in his own eyes, and a certain bold +dignity of bearing. Mark Tapier--mongrelized by mountain pronunciation +into Tapper--was the revenue officer and behind him, though operating +from remote distance, lay the power of Washington. + +To comprehend the universal hatred of the backwoods highlander for the +"revenue" one must step back from to-day's standard of vision into the +far past and accept that prejudice which existed when as legalistic a +mind as Blackstone said: "From its original to the present time, the +very name of excise has been odious to the people of England," and when +Dr. Johnson defined the term in his dictionary as: "A hateful tax +levied upon commodities ... by wretches hired by those to whom excise +is paid." + +Such a "wretch" was Mark Tapper in the local forum of public thought; a +wretch with an avocation dependent upon stealth and treachery of broken +confidences; profiting like Judas Iscariot upon blood-money. + +Yet before the first day of "Big Meeting time" had progressed to noon, +Mark Tapper sat in close and secret conference with the strongest and +most typical exponent of the old order of the hills. + +Into the side door of the Court-house strolled Kinnard Towers at +ten-thirty in the morning. From the jailer, who was his vassal, he +received the key which unlocked the small study giving off from the +Circuit Court-room--the judge's chamber--now vacant and cobwebbed. + +In this sanctum of the law's ostensible upholding, surrounded by +battered volumes of code and precedent, the man who was above the law +received first Jud White, the town marshal. + +"I reckon sich a gatherin' of folks es this hyar sort of complicates +yore job, Jud," he began blandly. "I thought I ought to tell ye thet +Ratler Webb's broguein' round town gittin' fuller of licker an' +hostility every minute thet goes by." + +The town marshal scowled with a joyless foreboding. + +"Mebby," he tentatively mused, "hit moutn't be a bad idee ter clap him +in ther jail-house right now--afore he gits too pizen mean ter handle." + +But with judicial forbearance Kinnard Towers shook his head. "No, I +wouldn't counsel ye ter do thet. Hit wouldn't be hardly lawful. I've +done instructed Black Tom Carmichael ter kinderly keep an eye on him." +After a moment he casually added: "Thar's bad blood betwixt Ratler an' +young Bear Cat Stacy. Hit would sarve a better purpose fer ye ter keep +a heedful watch on Bear Cat." + +The town marshal's face fell. He felt that to him was being assigned a +greater share than his poor deserts in the matter of safe-guarding the +peace and dignity of the Commonwealth. + +Towers caught the crestfallen frown and repressed a twinkle of +amusement. + +"What's ther matter, Jud? Air ye a-settin' on carpet tacks?" he +inquired with even, good humor. "Or air ye jest plain skeered at ther +idee of contraryin' Bear Cat Stacy?" + +"No, I hain't skeered of Bear Cat," lied the officer, reddening. "Ef he +breaches ther peace terday I aims ter jail him fer hit ther same es +anybody else." He paused, then broke out with fervor: "But he's a +mighty good man ter leave alone, Kinnard. He's ther best man ter leave +alone I ever met up with, an' thet's God's own blessed truth." + +Towers laughed. "Well, son, I aims ter be kinderly keepin' in touch +with Bear Cat Stacy myself, an' ef any ruction rises a-tween ye, I'll +be thar ter straighten hit out. So, if need be,--why, jest treat him +like anybody else--as ye says--an' don't be narvous about hit." + +Ten minutes after the dejected exit of Jud White, Mark Tapper, the +Revenuer, entered the front door of the Courthouse and shouldered his +way aggressively among loungers who eyed him with hostile +vindictiveness. Passing unchallenged between several rifle-bearers in +the upper area, he entered the judge's office, where Towers sat +expectantly waiting. + +Kinnard opened the interview by drawing forth his wallet and counting +sundry bank notes into Tapper's extended palm. + +"Kinnard," suggested the federal sleuth irritably, "it was clearly +understood between us that you were going to limit those stills you're +interested in--not develop them into a damned syndicate." + +Towers frowned a little. "Ther more thar is of 'em ther more ye gits, +don't ye?" + +"Yes, and where my revenue, from your hush money, increases a picayune, +my peril increases--vastly. One tip to the government, and I'm ruined." + +"Oh, pshaw, Mark," urged Towers conciliatingly, "hit's jest an exchange +of leetle favors a-tween us. There's some fellers I've got ter kinderly +protect an' thar's some information ye needs ter hev in yore +business--so 'stid of wagin' war on one another we trades tergether. +Thet's all." + +For a few moments the revenue officer restlessly paced the room, then, +halting before the desk, he rapped sharply with his knuckles. "Since I +let myself in for this folly of selling you protection I'm not damned +fool enough to try to threaten you. You can hurt me worse than I can +hurt you--and have me assassinated to boot--but unless we can arrange +things more to my liking, I'll get myself transferred to another +district--and you'll have to begin all over again." + +Towers did not at once answer. When he did it was with the air of one +tendering the olive branch of peace. + +"Set down, Mark, an' let's be reasonable. If so be thar's +dissatisfaction I reckon we kin fix matters. Right now I've got a +bigger project in mind than _thet_--an' I needs yore aid. This here +Jerry Henderson stands mightily in my light an' I aims ter be rid of +him. He hain't got no money invested hyar. He kin go without no loss +ner trouble. He don't even hev ter put out ther fire an' call ther +dawg. He sets by Lone Stacy's fire an' he hain't got no dawg." + +"If you mean a watch-dog he doesn't need one--so long as the Stacys +choose to protect him." + +Towers slowly nodded. "Thet's right, but with Lone Stacy and Bear Cat +moved away fer a leetle spell, hit would be as easy as old shoes." + +"And how do you aim to move them?" + +"Thet's whar you comes in, Mark. Lone's runnin' a blockade still over +on Little Slippery." + +The revenuer leaned forward with as unreceptive a stare as though his +companion had graciously proffered him the gift of a hornet's nest. + +"Hold on," he bluntly protested, "I have no evidence of that--and +what's more, I don't want any." + +"Air you like ther balance of 'em hyarabouts?" came Kinnard's satiric +inquiry. "Air ye skeered ter tackle Bear Cat Stacy?" + +Mark Tapper replied with entire sincerity. + +"Yes, I'm afraid to tackle him--and I'm brave enough to admit it. Once +in a century a man like that is born and he's born to be a master. I +warn you betimes, Kinnard, _leave him alone_! Play with a keg of +blasting powder and a lighted match if you like. Tickle a kicking mule +if you've a mind to, but _leave Bear Cat alone_!" The minion of the +federal law rose from his chair and spoke excitedly. "And if you're +hell-bent on starting an avalanche, do it for yourself--don't try to +make me pull it down on my own head, because I won't do it." + +Kinnard Towers leaned back in the judge's swivel chair and laughed +uproariously. + +"Mark, right sensibly at times, ye shows signs of human discernment. I +hain't seekin' no open rupture with this young tiger cat my own self. I +aims ter show in this matter only es his friend. _You_ hain't overly +popular with them Stacys nohow an' I've got hit all _dee_vised, ter +plumb convince 'em thet ye're only actin' in ther lawful discharge of +yore duty." + +"That will be very nice--if you succeed," commented the proposed +catspaw dryly. + +"I aims ter succeed," came the prompt assurance. "I aims ter +demonstrate thet thar war so much talkin' goin' round thet ye war plumb +obleeged ter act an' thet thar hain't no profit in resistin'. I'll tell +'em hit's a weak case atter all. They won't harm ye. Ye hain't a-goin' +ter arrest ther boy nohow--jest ther old man." + +"And leave Bear Cat foot-loose to avenge his daddy! No thank you. Not +for me." + +Again Towers smiled. "Now don't be short-sighted, Mark. Bear Cat won't +be hyar neither." + +"Why won't he be here? Because you'll tell him to go?" + +"I won't need ter say a word. His daddy'll counsel him ter leave fer a +spell an' hide out--so thet he kain't be tuck down ter Looeyville fer a +gover'_ment_ witness." + +"When am I supposed to perform this highly spectacular stunt?" inquired +Mark Tapper. + +"I aims ter hev ye do hit this afternoon." + +"This afternoon--with every foot of street and sidewalk full of wild +men, ready to pull me to pieces!" The revenuer's face was hot with +amazement. "Besides I have no evidence." + +"Ye kin git thet later," Towers assured him calmly. "Besides we don't +keer a heap if ye fails ter convict. We only wants 'em outen ther way +fer a while. Es fer ther crowds, I'm fixed ter safeguard ye. I've got +all my people hyar--ready--an' armed. I aims ter run things an' keep +peace in Marlin Town terday!" + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +On the river bank at the outskirts of Marlin Town that afternoon so +primitive was the aspect of life that it seemed appropriate to say in +Scriptural form: "A great multitude was gathered together." The haze of +Indian summer lay veil-like and sweetly brooding along the ridged and +purple horizon. The mountainsides flared with torch-like fires of +autumnal splendor--and the quaint old town with its shingled roofs and +its ox-teams in the streets, lay sleepily quiet in the mid-distance. + +Toward the crudely constructed rostrum of the two preachers in +long-tailed coats, strained the eyes of the throng, pathetically solemn +in their tense earnestness. Men bent with labor and women broken by +toil and perennial child-bearing; children whose faces bore the stupid +vacuity of in-bred degeneracy; other children alert and keen, needing +only the chance they would never have. It was a sea of unlettered +humanity in jeans and calico, in hodden-gray and homespun--seeking a +sign from Heaven, less to save their immortal souls than to break the +tedium of their mortal weariness. + +Henderson stood with folded arms beside the preacher whose pattern of +faith differed from that of the two exhorters he had come to hear. +Blossom's cheeks were abloom and her eyes, back of their grave +courtesy, rippled with a suppressed amusement. To her mind, her father +exemplified true ministry and these others were interesting quacks, but +to Bear Cat, standing at her elbow, they were performers whose clownish +antics savored of charlatanism--and who capitalized the illiteracy of +their hearers. Lone Stacy was there, too, but with a mask-like +impassiveness of feature that betrayed neither the trend nor color of +his thought. + +Not far distant, though above and beyond the press of the crowd, stood +the Towers chief, and his four guardians, and shifting here and there, +sauntered others of his henchmen, swinging rifles at their sides and +watchful, through their seeming carelessness, for any signal from him. +Once for a moment Henderson caught a glimpse of Ratler Webb's skulking +figure with a vindictive glance bent upon Bear Cat--but in another +instant he had disappeared. + +The first of the exhorters had swung into the full tide of his +discourse. His arm swung flail-like. His eyes rolled in awe-provoking +frenzy. His voice leaped and fell after the fashion of a troubled wind +and through his pauses there came back to him the occasional low wail +of some almost convinced sinner. Gradually, under this invocation of +passionate phrase and "holy-tone," the tide of crowd-psychology was +mounting to hysteria. + +Between sentences and phrases the preacher interlarded his sermon with +grunts of emotion-laden "Oh's" and "Ah's." + +"Fer them thet denies ther faith, oh brethren--Oh! Ah! ther pits of +hell air yawnin' wide an' red! Almighty God air jest a-bidin' His time +afore He kicks 'em inter ther ragin', fiery furnace an' ther caldrons +of molten brimstone, Oh! Ah!" + +The speaker rolled his eyes skyward until only their whites remained +visible. With his upflung fingers clawing talon-wise at the air he +froze abruptly out of crescendo into grotesque and motionless silence. + +Through the close-ranked listeners ran a shuddering quaver, followed by +a sighing sound like rising wind which in turn broke into a shrieking +chorus of "Amens!" and "Hallelujahs!" + +The simple throng was an instrument upon which he played. Their naive +credulity was his keyboard. Joel Fulkerson's eyes were mirrors of +silent pain as he looked on and listened. "Lord God," he said in his +heart, "I have toiled a lifetime in Thy service and men have hardened +their hearts. Yet to these who harangue them in the market-place, they +give ear--ay, and shed abundant tears." + +Then the long-coated, long-haired preacher having exhausted the +dramatic value of the pause, launched himself afresh. + +"Ther Lord hes said thet ef a man hes faith, even so sizeable es a +mustard seed, he shell say ter thet mounting, 'move' an' hit'll plumb +move! Oh-Ah!" + +Once more the tone dwindled to a haunting whisper, then vaulted into +sudden thunder. + +"Brethren, I _hev_ sich faith! Right now I could say ter thet thar +mounting thet's stood thar since ther commencement of time, 'Move,' an' +hit would roll away like a cloud afore ther wind! Right now afore ye +all, I could walk down ter thet river an' cross hits deep waters +dry-shod!" + +Jerry Henderson, looking with amusement about the overwrought crowd, +saw no spirit of skepticism on any untutored face, only a +superstitiously deep earnestness everywhere. + +Now even the hysterical "Amens!" which had been like responses to a +crazed litany were left unspoken. The hearers sat in a strained +silence; a voicelessness of bated breath--as if awed into a trance. +That stillness held hypnotically and long. + +Then like a bomb bursting in a cathedral came a clear voice, frankly +scornful and full of challenge from somewhere on the fringe of the +congregation. + +"All right--let's see ye do hit! Let's see ye walk over ther waters +dry-shod!" + +Petrified, breathlessly shocked, men and women held for a little space +their stunned poses, so that a margin of silence gave emphasis to the +sacrilege. Then, gradually gathering volume, from a gasp to a murmur, +from a murmur to a sullen roar, spoke the voice of resentment. Some +indignant person, wanting full comprehension and seeking only a +Biblical form of expression, shouted loudly: "Crucify him!" and +following that, pandemonium drowned out individual utterances. + +Kinnard Towers did not share in the general excitement. He only bit +liberally from his tobacco plug and remarked: "I reckon Bear Cat +Stacy's drunk ergin." But Bear Cat Stacy, standing at the point from +which he had interrupted the meeting, looked on with blazing eyes and +said nothing. + +"Now ye've done gone an' made another damn' fool of yourself!" +whispered his father hoarsely in his ear. "Ye've done disturbed public +worship--an' as like es not hit'll end in bloodshed." + +Turner made no reply. His fingers were tense as they gripped biceps +equally set. The fury of his face died into quiet seriousness. If the +howling mob destroyed him he had, at least, flung down the gauntlet to +these impostors who sought to victimize the helplessness of ignorance. + +About him surged a crowd with shuffling feet and murmuring undertones; +a crowd that moved and swayed like milling cattle in a corral, awaiting +only leadership for violence. Then abruptly a pistol shot ripped out, +followed instantly by another, and the edges of the throng began an +excited eddying of stampede. + +The babel of high voices, questioning, volunteering unreliable +information, swelling into a deep-throated outcry, became inarticulate. +The first impression was that some one in a moment of fanaticism had +conceived himself called upon to punish sacrilege. The second had it +that Bear Cat Stacy himself, not satisfied with his impious beginnings, +was bent on carrying his disturbance to a more sweeping conclusion. +Neither assumption was accurate. + +A few moments before Bear Cat's outbreak, Kinnard Towers had whispered +to Black Tom Carmichael, indicating with a glance of his eye the +skulking figure of Ratler Webb, "Watch him." + +Nodding in response to that whisper, Black Tom had strolled casually +over, stationing himself directly behind Bear Cat. His face wore a calm +benignity and his arms were crossed on his breast so peacefully that +one would hardly have guessed the right hand caressed the grip of an +automatic pistol and that the pistol had already been drawn half free +from its hidden holster. + +It happened that Ratler's hand, in his coat pocket, was also nursing a +weapon. Ratler was biding his time. He had read into every face a +contemptuous mockery for his surrender of the road to Turner Stacy that +morning. In his disordered brain a fixed idea had festered into the +mandate of a single word: "Revengeance." + +Then when Bear Cat had drawn down on himself the wrath of an outraged +camp-meeting Ratler thought his opportunity knocked. The crowd began to +shift and move so that the focus of men's impressions was blurred. +Availing himself of that momentary confusion, he stole a little nearer +and shifted sidewise so that he might see around Black Tom Carmichael's +bulking shoulders. He glanced furtively about him. Kinnard Towers was +looking off abstractedly--another way. No one at front or back seemed +to be noticing him. + +Ratler Webb's arm flashed up with a swiftness that was sheer +slight-of-hand and Black Tom's vigilant eye caught a dull glint of blue +metal. With a legerdemain superlatively quick, Carmichael's hand, too, +flashed from his breast. His pistol spoke, and Ratler's shot was a +harmless one into the air. When the startled faces turned that way +Ratler was staggering back with a flesh wound and Black Tom was once +more standing calmly by. On the ground between his feet and Bear Cat +Stacy's, as near to the one as the other, lay a smoking pistol. + +"Bear Cat's done shot Ratler Webb!" yelled a treble voice, and again +the agitated crowd broke into a confused roar. + +Turner bent quickly toward Blossom and spoke in a tense whisper. "Leave +hyar fer God's sake. This hain't no place fer _you_ right now!" + +The girl's eyes leaped into instant and Amazonian fire and, as her chin +came up, she answered in a low voice of unamenable obduracy: + +"So long es _you_ stays, I stays, too. I don't aim ter run away." + +The crowd was edging in, not swiftly but sullenly and there were faces +through whose snarls showed such yellow fangs as suggested a wolf pack. +Here and there one could see the flash of a drawn pistol or the glint +of a "dirk-knife." + +Then, coming reluctantly, yet keyed to his hard duty by the +consciousness of Kinnard Towers' scrutiny, Jud White, the town marshal, +arrived and laid a hand on Bear Cat's shoulder. + +"I reckon," he said, licking his lips, "ye'll hev ter come ter ther +jail-house with me, Bear Cat." + +"What fer, Jud?" inquired Turner quietly, though the tawny fire was +burning in his eyes. "I didn't shoot them shoots." + +"Folks ses ye did, Bear Cat." + +"Them folks lies." + +A sudden crescendo of violent outcry interrupted their debate. Through +it came shouts of: "Kill ther blasphemer!" "String him up!" + +With a sudden flash of sardonic humor in his eyes Bear Cat suggested +softly: "I reckon, Jud, hit's yore duty ter kinderly protect yore +prisoner, hain't hit?" + +A cold sweat broke out over the face of the town officer and as he +stood irresolute, the crowd, in which mob passion was spreading like +flames in dry grass, swayed in a brief indicision--and in that moment +Brother Fulkerson stood forward, raising his arms above his head. + +"Brethren," he cried in a voice that trembled, "I implores ye ter +listen ter me. I hain't never lied ter ye afore now, an' unless my +labors hev been fer naught, I des'arves ter be h'arkened to." + +Curiosity prevailed and the din subsided enough to let the evangelist +be heard. + +"I was standin' right hyar by Bear Cat Stacy when them shots war +fired," Fulkerson went on earnestly, "an' I swears ter ye, with +Almighty God fer my witness, thet he didn't hev nothin' more ter do +with hit then what I did." + +As he paused a sarcastic voice from the crowd demanded: "Will ye swear +he didn't aim ter break up ther meetin' neither?" + +"Let me answer that question," shouted Bear Cat Stacy, stepping +defiantly forward. + +There was peril in that interruption, and the young man knew it. He +realized that only a savage, cat-and-mouse spirit of prolonging +excitement had, so far, held in leash the strained wrath of a crowd +worked already to frenzy. But the mountaineer loves oratory of any +sort, and a lynching need not be hurried through. They would have +listened to Brother Fulkerson--but would they give _him_ a hearing? + +For a moment Bear Cat stood there, sweeping them with a gaze that held +no fear and a great deal of open scorn. The effrontery of his attitude, +the blaze of his eyes and even the rumors of his charmed life were +having their effects. Then he spoke: + +"Any man thet charges me with blasphemin' lies! Brother Fulkerson hes +done toiled his life away amongst ye--an' ye skeercely heeds his +preachin'. I believes these fellers thet calls themselves God's +sarvents ter be false prophets. Instid of the light of knowledge, they +offers ye ther smoke of ign'rance. They hev 'lowed thet they kin work +miracles. Ef they kin, why don't they? Ef they kain't they lies an' +sich a lie as thet air blasphemy. I called on 'em ter make good thar +brag--an' now I calls on 'em ergin! Let's see a miracle." + +He ended and, as the voice of the crowd rose once more, this time a +shade less unanimous in tone, a strange thing happened. About Bear Cat +Stacy and the town marshal appeared a little knot of rifle-armed men, +and coming to their front, Kinnard Towers bellowed: + +"Men! Listen!" + +They looked at his face and his guns--and listened. + +"I was standin' whar I could see this whole matter," asserted Towers. +"Bear Cat Stacy never drawed nor fired no weepin. My friend Tom +Carmichael shot Ratler Webb in _dee_fense of his life. Ratler shot a +shoot, too. I counsels ther town marshal not ter jail Bear Cat Stacy, +an' I counsels ther rest of ye ter settle down ergin ter quiet. Mebby +Bear Cat oughtn't ter hev interrupted ther preachin', but whoever aims +ter harm him must needs take him away from me!" + +Over the sea of faces ran a wave of amazement sounding out in a +prolonged murmur. Here was the incredible situation of a Towers leader +vouching for and protecting a Stacy chieftain. Feudal blood tingled +with the drama of that realization. + +Varied excitements were breaking the drab monotony of life to-day for +Marlin Town! A voice shouted, "I reckon Ratler needs a leetle shootin' +anyhow," and the sally was greeted with laughter. The tide had turned. + +On Bear Cat's face, though, as he wheeled to his powerful rescuer was a +mingling of emotions; surprise blended with a frown of unwillingly +incurred obligation. + +"I'm obleeged ter ye, Kinnard Towers," he said dubiously, "but I reckon +I could hev keered fer myself. I hain't seekin' ter be beholden ter +ye." + +The florid man laughed. "Ye hain't none beholden ter me, son," was his +hearty disclaimer. "A man likes ter testify ter ther truth when he sees +somebody falsely accused, thet's all." + +Brother Fulkerson and his daughter started back to Little Slippery that +same evening, meaning to spend the night with friends a few miles from +town. After bidding them farewell at the edge of the town, Henderson +and Bear Cat strolled back together toward the shack tavern where Jerry +had his quarters. The younger man's eyes were brooding, and suddenly he +broke out in vehement insurgency: + +"I reckon I was a fool down thar by ther river--but I couldn't hold my +peace deespite all my effort. Hyar's a land dry-rottin' away in +ign'rance--an' no man raisin' his voice fer its real betterment." His +tone dropped and became gentle with an undernote of pain. "I looked at +Blossom, standin' thar, with a right ter ther best thar is--an' I could +foresee ther misery an' tribulation of all this makin' her old in a few +years. I jest had ter speak out." + +Henderson only nodded. He, too, had been thinking of Blossom, and he +realized that wherever he went, when he left the hills, there was going +to be an emptiness in his life. He was not going to be able to forget +her. The shield which he had always held before his heart had failed to +protect him against the dancing eyes of a girl who could not even speak +correct English--the tilted chin of a girl who would not flee from a +mob. + +"Turner," he said, drawing himself together with an effort, "come over +to the hotel with me. I'm going down to Louisville for a few days, and +I want you to help me make out a list of books for Blossom and +yourself." + +Turner's eyes lighted. One man at least sought to be, in so far as he +could, a torch-bearer. + +As they sat talking of titles and authors the boy's face softened and +glowed with imagination. Off through the window the peaks bulked +loftily against the sunset's ash-of-rose. Both men looked toward the +west and a silence fell between them, then they heard hurried footsteps +and, without knocking, Jud White the town marshal, flung open the door. + +"Bear Cat," he announced briefly, "yore paw bade me fotch ye ter him +direct. The revenue hes got him in ther jail-house, charged with +blockadin'." + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +Under the impact of these tidings Turner Stacy came to his feet with a +sudden transformation of bearing. The poetic abstraction which had, a +moment ago, been a facial mirror for the sunset mysticism, vanished to +be harshly usurped by a spirit of sinister wrath. + +For several seconds he did not speak, but stood statuesquely taut and +strained, the line of his lips straight and unbending over the angle of +a set jaw. + +The yellow glow of the sinking sun seemed to light him as he stood by +the window into a ruddy kinship with bronze, awakening a glint of +metallic hardness on cheekbone, temple and dilated nostril. It was the +menacing figure of a man whose ancestors had always settled their own +scores in private reprisal and by undiscounted tally, and one just now +forgetful of all save his heritage of blood. + +Then the strained posture relaxed and Bear Cat Stacy inquired in a tone +of dead and impersonal calm: + +"Mr. Henderson, hev ye got a gun?" + +As Jerry shook his head, Bear Cat wheeled abruptly on Jud White: "Lend +me yore weepin, Jud," he demanded with a manner of overbearing +peremptoriness. + +"I'd love ter obleege ye, Bear Cat," haltingly parried the officer, +"but I kain't hardly do hit--lawfully." + +Volcanic fires burst instantly in the eyes where they had been +smoldering, until from them seemed to spurt an outpouring of flame and +the voice of command was as explosive as the rending thunders that +release a flow of molten lava. + +"Don't balk me, Jud," Stacy cautioned. "I'm in dire haste. Air ye goin' +ter loan me thet gun of yore own free will or hev I got ter take hit +offen ye?" + +The town marshal glanced backward toward the exit, but with leopard +swiftness Bear Cat was at the door, barring it with the weight of his +body, and his breath was coming with deep intake of passion. After an +irresolute moment, White surrendered his automatic pistol. + +But as Turner gripped the knob, Jerry Henderson laid a deterring hand +on his shoulder. "Just a moment, Bear Cat," he said quietly. Somewhat +to his surprise the younger man paused and, as he turned his face +questioningly to the speaker, some part of its fury dissolved. + +"This is a time, Turner, when it's mighty easy to make a mistake," went +on the promoter earnestly. "If your father sent for you, it's pretty +certain that he wants to speak to you before you take any step." + +"Thet's identically what he bade me caution ye, Bear Cat," echoed +White. "He 'lowed thar'd be time enough fer reprisal later on." + +"Mr. White," Henderson demanded as he turned and fronted the marshal +with a questioning gaze, "before he goes over there, I want you to give +me your hand that this isn't a scheme to get Bear Cat Stacy in the jail +under false pretenses, so that he can be more easily arrested." + +"An' answer thet honest," Turner warned vehemently, "because ef I don't +walk outen thet jail-house es free es I goes inter hit, you won't never +leave hit alive yoreself, Jud. How comes hit ther revenue didn't seek +ter arrest me, too?" + +"So holp me Almighty God, men," the voice of the officer carried +conviction of its sincerity. "I came over hyar only bearin' tidin's +from Lone Stacy. I hain't aidin' no revenue. I heered Mark Tapper 'low +thet he hedn't no charge ter mek ergin ye jest now." + +"In that case," declared Henderson, assuming the role of spokesman, +"we'll both go with you to the jail. Bear Cat will give me the gun, +since he can't go in unsearched, and you will remain with me, unarmed, +as a hostage until he comes out." + +"Thet satisfies me, all right," readily agreed the town marshal. + +The jail-house at Marlin Town squats low of roof and uncompromising in +its squareness to the left of the Courthouse; hardly more than a brick +pen, sturdily solid and sullenly unlovely of facade. + +When father and son met in the bare room where one rude chair was the +only furnishing save for a tin basin on a soap-box, the fire of renewed +wrath leaped in Turner's eyes and he spoke with a tremor of voice: + +"I reckon ye knows full well, pap, thet I don't aim ter let ye lay hyar +long. I aims ter tek ye outen hyar afore sun-up--ef I hes ter take ye +single-handed!" + +The sunset was fading and in the bleak cell there was a grayness +relieved only by the dim light from a high, barred slit that served as +a window. The two men had to peer intently at each other through +widened pupils to read the expression of lips and eyes. + +Old Lone Stacy smiled grimly. + +"I'm obleeged ter ye, son." His response was quiet. "An' I knows ye +means what ye says, but jest now ye've got ter let _me_ decide whether +hit's a fit time ter wage war--or submit." + +"Submit!" echoed the son in blank amazement. "Ye don't aim ter let 'em +penitenshery ye ergin, does ye?" + +Laying a soothing hand on the arm that shook passionately, the senior +went on in a modulated voice. + +"I've done studied this matter out, son, more ca'mly then you've hed +time ter do yit--an' I discerns how ye kin holp me best. Sometimes hit +profits a man more ter study ther fox then ther eagle." + +The boy stood there in the half light, finding it bitter to stomach +such passive counsel, but he gulped down his rising gorge of fury and +forced himself to acquiesce calmly, "I'm hearkenin' ter ye." + +"Ther revenue 'lowed thet he war plumb obleeged ter jail me," went on +the elder moonshiner evenly, "because tidin's hes done reached ther men +up above him." + +"I aims ter compel Mark Tapper ter give me ther names of them damn' +tale-bearers," exploded Bear Cat violently, "an' I'm a-goin' ter settle +with him an' them, too, in due course." + +But again Lone Stacy shook his head. + +"Thet would only bring on more trouble," he declared steadfastly. "Mark +Tapper made admission thet he hes a weak case, an' he said thet ef I +went with him peaceable he wouldn't press hit no further then what he +war compelled ter. He 'lowed he hedn't no evi_dence_ erginst _you_. I +don't believe he's seed our still yit an' ef ye heeds my counsel, he +won't never see hit." + +"What does ye counsel then? I'm a-listenin'." + +Lone Stacy's voice cast off its almost conciliating tone and became one +of command. "I wants thet ye shell ride back over thar es fast es a +beast kin carry ye--an' git thar afore ther revenue. I wants thet ye +shell move thet still into a place of safe concealment erginst his +comin', I wants thet 'stid of tryin' ter carcumvent him ye sha'n't be +thar at all when he comes." + +"Not be thar?" The words were echoed in surprise, and the older head +bowed gravely. + +"Jist so. Ef they don't find ther copper worm ner ther kittle--an' +don't git ye ter testify ergin me, I've still got a right gay chanst +ter come cl'ar." + +"Does ye 'low," demanded the son with deeply hurt pride, "that anybody +this side of hell-a-poppin' could fo'ce me ter give testimony ergin my +own blood?" + +Again the wrinkled hand of the father fell on the shoulder of his son. +It was as near to a caress as his undemonstrative nature could +approach. + +"I wouldn't hev ye perjure yoreself, son--an' without ye did thet--ye'd +convict me--ef ye was thar in Co'te." + +Turner glanced up at the narrow slit in the brick wall through which +now showed only a greenish strip of pallid sky. His lips worked +spasmodically. "I come over hyar resolved ter sot ye free," he said +slowly, "ter fight my way outen hyar an' take ye along with me--but I'm +ready ter heed yore counsel." + +"Then ride over home es fast es ye kin go--an' when ye've told yore maw +what's happened, an' hid ther still, take Lee along with ye an' go +cl'ar acrost inter Virginny whar no summons sarver kain't find ye. Stay +plumb away from hyar till I sends ye word. Tell yore maw where I kin +reach ye, but don't tell me. I wants ter swear I don't know." + +Bear Cat hesitated, then his voice shook with a storm of protest. + +"I don't delight none thet ye should go down thar an' sulter in jail +whilst I'm up hyar enjoyin' freedom." + +The older man met this impetuous outburst with the stoic's fine +tranquillity. + +"When they tuck me afore," he said, "I left yore maw unprotected behind +me an' you was only a burden on her then. Now I kin go easy in my mind, +knowin' she's got you." The prisoner's voice softened. "She war a +mighty purty gal, yore maw, in them times. Right sensibly Blossom +Fulkerson puts me in mind of her now." + +Lone Stacy broke off with abruptness and added gruffly: "I reckon ye'd +better be a-startin' home now--hit's comin' on ter be nightfall." + +As Turner Stacy went out he turned and looked back. The cell was almost +totally dark now and its inmate had reseated himself, his shoulders +sagging dejectedly. "I'll do what he bids me now," Bear Cat told +himself grimly, "but some day thar's a-goin' ter be a reckonin'." + +On his way to the livery stable he met Kinnard Towers on foot but, as +always, under escort. Still stinging under the chagrin of an hereditary +enemy's gratuitous intervention in his behalf and a deep-seated +suspicion of the man, he halted stiffly and his brow was lowering. + +"Air these hyar tidin's true, Bear Cat? I've heerd thet yore paw's done +been jailed," demanded Kinnard solicitously, ignoring the coldness of +his greeting. "Kin I holp ye in any fashion?" + +"No, we don't need no aid," was the curt response. "Ef we did we'd call +on ther Stacys fer hit." + +Towers smiled. "I aimed ter show ye this a'tternoon thet I _felt_ +friendly, Turner." + +The manner was seemingly so sincere that the young man felt ashamed of +his contrasting churlishness and hastened to amend it. + +"I reckon I hev need ter ask yore pardon, Kinnard. I'm sore fretted +about this matter." + +"An' I don't blame ye neither, son. I jest stopped ter acquaint ye with +what folks says. This hyar whole matter looks like a sort of bluff on +Mark Tapper's part ter make a good showin' with ther govern_ment_. He +hain't hardly got nothin' but hearsay ter go on--unless he kin make +_you_ testify. Ef ye was ter kinderly disappear now fer a space of +time, I reckon nothin' much wouldn't come of hit." + +"I'm obleeged ter ye Kinnard. Paw hes don' give me ther same counsel," +said Bear Cat, as he hurried to the stable where he parted with Jerry +Henderson after a brief and earnest interview. + +It was with a very set face and with very deep thoughts that Bear Cat +Stacy set out for his home on Little Slippery. He rode all night with +the starlight and the clean sweep of mountain wind in his face, and at +sunrise stabled his mount at the cabin of a kinsman and started on +again by a short cut "over the roughs" where a man can travel faster on +foot. + +When eventually he entered the door of his house his mother looked +across the dish she was drying to inquire, "Where's yore paw at?" + +He told her and, under the sudden scorn in her eyes, he flinched. + +"Ye went down thar ter town with him," she accused in the high falsetto +of wrath, "an' ye come back scot free an' abandoned him ter ther +penitenshery an' ye didn't raise a hand ter save him! Ef hit hed of +been me I'd hev brought him home safe or I wouldn't of been hyar myself +ter tell of hit!" + +Bear Cat Stacy went over and took the woman's wasted hands in both of +his own. As he looked down on her from his six feet of height there +came into his eyes a gentleness so winning that his expression was one +of surprising and tender sweetness. + +"Does ye 'low," he asked softly, "that I'd hev done _thet_ ef he hadn't +p'intedly an' severely bid me do hit?" + +He told her the story in all its detail and as she listened no tears +came into her eyes to relieve the hard misery of her face. But when he +had drawn a chair for her to the hearth and she had seated herself +stolidly there, he realized that he must go and remove the evidence +which still remained back there in the laurel thickets. He left her +tearless and haggard of expression, gazing dully ahead of her at the +ashes of the burned-out fire; the gaunt figure of a mountain woman to +whom life is a serial of apprehension. + +When he came back at sunset she still sat there, bending tearlessly +forward, and it was not until he had crossed the threshold that he saw +another figure rise from its knees. Blossom Fulkerson had been kneeling +with her arms about the shrunken shoulders--but how long, he did not +know. + +"Blossom," he said that evening as he was starting away into banishment +across the Virginia boundary, "I don't know how long I'm a-goin' ter be +gone, but I reckon you knows how I feels. I've done asked Mr. Henderson +ter look atter ye, when he comes back from Louisville. He aims ter see +ter hit that paw gits ther best lawyers ter defend him while he's +thar." + +"I reckon then," replied the girl with a faith of hero-worship which +sent a sharp paroxysm of pain into Bear Cat's heart, "thet yore paw +will mighty sartain come cl'ar." + +They were standing by the gate of the Stacy house, for Blossom meant to +spend that night with the lone woman who sat staring dully into the +blackened fireplace. To the lips of the departing lover rose a +question, inspired by that note of admiration which had lent a thrill +to her voice at mention of Jerry Henderson, but he sternly repressed +it. + +To catechize her love would be disloyal and ungenerous. It would be a +wrong alike to her whom he trusted and to the man who was his loyal +friend--and hers. But in his heart, already sore with the prospect of +exile, with the thought of that dejectedly rocking figure inside and +the other figure he had left in the neutral grayness of the jail cell, +awakened a new ache. He was thinking how untutored and raw he must seem +now that his life had been thrown into the parallel of contrast with +the man who knew the broad world of "down below" and even of over-seas. +If to Blossom's thinking he himself had shrunken in stature, it was not +a surprising thing--but that did not rob the realization of its cutting +edge or its barb. + +"Blossom," he said, as his face once more became ineffably gentle, +"thar's ther evenin' star comin' up over ther Wilderness Ridges." He +took both her hands in his and looked not at the evening star but into +the eyes that she lifted to gaze at it. "So long es I'm away--so long +es I lives--I won't never see hit withouten I thinks of _you_. But hit +hain't only when I see _hit_ thet I thinks of ye--hit's _always_. I +reckon ye don't sca'cely realize even a leetle portion of how much I +loves ye." He fell for a space silent, his glance caressing her, then +added unsteadily and with an effort to smile, "I reckon thet's jest got +ter be a secret a-tween ther Almighty, Who knows everything--an' me +thet don't know much else but jest _thet_!" + +She pressed his hands, but she did not put her arms about him nor offer +to kiss him, and he reflected rather wretchedly that she had done that +only once. Though it might be ungenerous to think of it, save as a +coincidence, that one time had been before Jerry Henderson had been on +the scene for twenty-four hours. + +Bear Cat Stacy, with the lemon afterglow at his back and only the +darkness before his face, was carrying a burdened spirit over into old +Virginia, where for the first time in his life he must, like some +red-handed murderer, "hide out" from the law. + +Kinnard Towers felt that his plans had worked with a well-oiled +precision until the day after Lone Stacy's arrest, when he awoke to +receive the unwelcome tidings that Jerry Henderson had taken the train +at four o'clock that morning for Louisville. + +For a moment black rage possessed him, then it cleared away into a more +philosophical mood as his informant added, "But he 'lowed ter several +folks thet he aimed ter come back ergin in about a week's time." + + * * * * * + +On that trip to Louisville Jerry Henderson saw to it that old Lone +Stacy should face trial with every advantage of learned and +distinguished counsel. + +Jerry and President Williams of the C. and S.-E. Railways knew, though +the public did not, that the expenses of that defense were to be +charged up to the road's accounts under the head of "Incidentals--_in +re_ Cedar Mountain extension." + +Old Lone had been an unconscious sponsor during these months and his +friendship warranted recognition, not only for what he had done, but +also for what he might yet do. + +But the promoter's stay in the city was not happy since he found +himself floundering in a quandary of mind and heart which he could no +longer laugh away. He had heretofore boasted an adequate strength to +regulate and discipline his life. Such a power he had always regarded +as test and measure of an ambitious man's effectiveness. Its failure, +total or partial, was a flaw which endangered the metal and temper of +resolution. + +On these keen and bracing days, as he walked briskly along the streets +of the city, he found himself instinctively searching for a face not to +be found; the face of Blossom Fulkerson and always upon realization +followed a pang of disappointment. Unless he watched himself he would +be idiotically falling in love with her, he mused, which was only a +vain denial that he was already in love with her. + +It was in their half-conscious pervasiveness, their dream-like +subtlety, that these influences were strongest. When they emerged into +the full light of consciousness he laughed them away. Such fantasies +did not fit into his pattern of life. They were suicidally dangerous. +Yet they lingered in the fairy land of the partially realized. + +He wished that her ancestors had been among those who had won through +to the promised land of the bluegrass, instead of those who had been +stranded in the dry-rot of the hills. In that event, perhaps, her +grandmothers would have been ladies in brocade and powdered hair +instead of bent crones dipping snuff by cabin hearth-stones. All their +inherent fineness of mind and charm, Blossom had--under the submerging +of generations. The most stately garden will go to ragged and +weed-choked desolation if left too long untended. + +But he could hardly hope to make his more fashionable world see that. +The freshness of her charm would be less obvious than the lapses of her +grammar; the flash of her wit less marked than her difficulties with a +tea-cup. + +Blossom, too, of late had been troubled with a restlessness of spirit, +new to her experience. Until that day last June upon which so many +important things had happened the gay spontaneity of her nature had +dealt little with perplexities. She had acknowledged a deep and +unsatisfied yearning for "education" and a fuller life, but even that +was not poignantly destructive of happiness. + +Then within a space of twenty-four hours, Henderson had made his +appearance, bringing a sense of contact with the wonder-world beyond +the purple barriers; she had prayed through the night for Turner and he +had come to her at dawn with his pledge--and finally, she had confessed +her love. + +In short she had matured with that swift sequence of happenings into +womanhood, and since then nothing had been quite the same. But of all +the unsettling elements, the disturbing-in-chief was Jerry Henderson. +He had flashed into her life with all the startling fascination of +Cinderella's prince, and matters hitherto accepted as axiomatic +remained no longer certain. + +"Gittin' education" had before that meant keeping pace with Turner's +ambition. Now it involved a pathetic effort to raise herself to +Henderson's more complex plane. + +She had sought as studiously as Jerry himself to banish the absurd idea +that this readjustment of values was sentimental, and she had as +signally failed. + +These changes in herself had been of such gradual incubation that she +had never realized their force sufficiently to face and analyze +them--yet she had sent young Stacy away without a caress! + +"I'm jest the same as plighted to Bear Cat," she told herself +accusingly, because loyalty was an element of her blood. "I ain't +hardly got ther right to think of Mr. Henderson." But she did think of +him. Perhaps she was culpable, but she was very young. Turner had +seemed a planet among small stars--then Jerry had come like a flaming +comet--and her heart was in sore doubt. + +When, on his return, Henderson dropped from the step of the rickety +day-coach to the cinder platform of the station at Marlin Town, he met +Uncle Israel Calvert who paused to greet him. + +"Wa'al howdy, stranger," began the old man with a full volumed +heartiness, then he added swiftly under his breath and with almost as +little movement of his lips as a ventriloquist. "Don't leave town +withouten ye sees me fust--hit's urgent. Don't appear ter hev much +speech with me in public. Meet me at ther Farmers' Bank--upsta'rs--one +hour hence." + +Jerry Henderson recognized the whispered message as a warning which it +would be foolhardiness to ignore. Probably even as he received it he +was under surveillance, so instead of setting out at once on foot, he +waited and at the appointed time strolled with every appearance of +unconcern into the Farmers' Bank. + +At the same time Black Tom Carmichael happened in to have a two-dollar +bill changed into silver, and overheard the cashier saying in a +matter-of-fact voice, "Thar's been some little tangle in yore balance, +Mr. Henderson. Would ye mind steppin' up to the directors' room an' +seein' ef ye kin straighten it out with the bookkeeper. She's up thar." + +With a smile of assent Henderson mounted the narrow stairs and Black +Tom lighted his pipe and loafed with inquisitive indolence below. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +Instead of a puzzled accountant Jerry found in the bare upper room the +rosy-faced, white-haired man who had given him credentials when he +first arrived in the hills, and who kept the store over on Big Ivy. + +"I come over hyar on my way ter Knoxville ter lay me in a stock of +winter goods," volunteered the storekeeper, "an' I 'lowed I'd tarry an' +hev speech with ye afore I fared any further on." As he spoke he tilted +back his chair, and thrust his hands deep into his pockets. + +Henderson lifted his brows in interrogation and the storekeeper +proceeded with deliberate emphasis. + +"Somebody, I hain't found out jest who--aims ter hev ye lay-wayed on +yore trip acrost ther mounting. I felt obleeged ter warn ye." + +"Have me way-laid," repeated Jerry blankly, "what for?" + +Uncle Israel shook his silvery poll. "I hain't hardly got ther power +ter answer thet," he said, "but thar's right-smart loose talk goin' +round. Some folks laments thet ye 'lowed ter teach profitable farmin' +an' ye hain't done nothin'. They 'lows ye must hev some crooked projeck +afoot. This much is all I jedgmatic'lly knows, Joe Campbell was over +ter Hook Brewer's blind tiger, on Skinflint, last week. Some fellers +got ter drinkin' an' talkin' aimless-like an' yore name come up. +Somebody 'lowed thet yore tarryin' hyar warn't a-goin' ter be tolerated +no longer, an' thet he knowed of a plan ter git ye es ye crossed ther +mounting whilst Lone Stacy an' Bear Cat was both away. Joe, bein' a +kinsman of mine an' Lone's, told me. Thet's all I knows, but ef I was +you I wouldn't disregard hit." + +"What would you advise, Uncle Israel?" + +"Does ye plumb pi'ntedly _hev_ ter go over thar? Ye couldn't jest +linger hyar in town twell ther night train pulls out an' go away on +hit?" + +Henderson shook his head with a sharp snap of decisiveness. "No, I'm +not ready to be scared away just yet by enemies that threaten me from +ambush. I mean to cross the mountain." + +For a moment the old storekeeper chewed reflectively on the stem of his +pipe, then he nodded his approval and went on: + +"No, I didn't hardly 'low ye'd submit ter ther likes of thet without no +debate." He lifted a package wrapped in newspaper which lay at his +elbow on the table. "This hyar's one of them new-fangled automatic +pistols and a box of ca'tridges ter fit hit. I reckon ye'd better slip +hit inter yore pocket.... When I started over hyar, I borrowed a mule +from Lone Stacy's house ... hit's at ther liv'ry-stable now an' ye kin +call fer hit an' ride hit back." + +"I usually go on foot," interrupted Henderson, but Uncle Israel raised +a hand, commanding attention. + +"I knows thet, but this time hit'll profit ye ter ride ther mule. He's +got calked irons on his feet an' every man knows his tracks in ther +mud.... They won't sca'cely aim ter lay-way yer till ye gits a good +ways out from town, whar ther timber's more la'rely an' wild-like.... +Word'll go on ahead of ye by them leetle deestrick telephone boxes thet +ye're comin' mule-back an' they'll 'low ye don't suspicion nothin'. +They will be a-watchin' fer ther mule then ... an' ef ye starts out +within ther hour's time ye kin make hit ter the head of Leetle Ivy by +nightfall." + +The adviser paused a moment, then went succinctly on. + +"Hit's from thar on thet ye'll be in peril.... Now when ye reaches some +rocky p'int whar hit won't leave no shoe-track, git down offen ther +critter an' hit him a severe whack.... Thet mule will go straight on +home jest as stiddy es ef ye war still ridin' him ... whilst _you_ +turns inter ther la'rel on foot an' takes a hike straight across ther +roughs. Hit's ther roads they'll be watchin' an' _you_ won't be on no +road." + +Jerry Henderson rose briskly from his chair. "Uncle Israel," he said +feelingly, "I reckon I don't have to say I'm obliged to you. The +quicker the start I get now, the better." + +The old man settled back again with leisurely calm. "Go right on yore +way, son, an' I'll tarry hyar a spell so nairy person won't connect my +goin'-out with your'n." + +As he passed the cashier's grating Henderson nodded to Black Tom +Carmichael. + +"Does ye aim ter start acrost ther mounting?" politely inquired the +chief lieutenant of Kinnard Towers, and Jerry smiled. + +"Yes, I'm going to the livery stable right now to get Lone Stacy's +mule." + +"I wishes ye a gay journey then," the henchman assured him, using the +stereotyped phrase of well-wishing, to the wayfarer. + +Gorgeous was the flaunting color of autumn as Henderson left the edges +of the ragged town behind him. He drank in the spicy air that swept +across the pines, and the beauty was so compelling that for a time his +danger affected him only as an intoxicating sort of stimulant under +whose beguiling he reared air-castles. It would be, he told himself, +smiling with fantastic pleasure, a delectable way to salvage the hard +practicalities of life if he could have a home here, presided over by +Blossom, and outside an arena of achievement. In the market-places of +modern activity, he could then win his worldly triumphs and return here +as to a quiet haven. One phase would supply the plaudits of Caesar--and +one the tranquil philosophy of Plato. + +But with evening came the bite of frost. The same crests that had been +brilliantly colorful began to close in, brooding and sinister, and the +reality of his danger could no longer be disavowed. + +Twilight brought the death of all color save the lingering lemon of the +afterglow, and now he had come to the head of Little Ivy, where Uncle +Israel had said travel would become precarious. Here he should abandon +his mule and cut across the tangles, but a little way ahead lay a disk +of pallid light in the general choke of the shadows--a place where the +creek had spread itself into a shallow pool across the road. The hills +and woods were already merged into a gray-blue silhouette, but the +water down there still caught and clung to a remnant of the afterglow +and dimly showed back the inverted counterparts of trees which were +themselves lost to the eye. + +He might as well cross that water dry-shod, he reflected, and dismount +just beyond. + +But, suddenly, he dragged hard at the bit and crouched low in his +saddle. He had seen a reflection which belonged neither to fence nor +roadside sapling. Inverted in the dim and oblong mirror of the pool he +made out the shoulders and head of a man with a rifle thrust forward. +That up-side-down figure was so ready of poise that only one conclusion +was feasible. The human being who stood so mirrored did not realize +that he was close enough to the water's line to be himself revealed, +but he was watching for another figure to be betrayed by the same +agency. Henderson slid quietly from his saddle and jabbed the mule's +flank with the muzzle of his pistol. At his back was a thicket into +which he melted as his mount splashed into the water, and he held with +his eyes to the inverted shadow. He saw the rifle rise and bark with a +spurt of flame; heard his beast plunge blunderingly on and then caught +an oath of astonished dismay from beyond the pool, as two inverted +shadows stood where there had been one. "Damn me ef I hain't done shot +acrost an empty saddle!" + +"Mebby they got him further back," suggested the second voice as Jerry +Henderson crouched in his hiding place. "Mebby Joe tuck up his stand at +ther t'other crossin'." + +Jerry Henderson smiled grimly to himself. "That was shaving it pretty +thin," he mused. "After all it was only a shadow that saved me." + +As he lay there unmoving, he heard one of his would-be assassins rattle +off through the dry weed stalks after the lunging mule. The second +splashed through the shallow water and passed almost in arm's length, +but to neither did it occur that the intended victim had left the +saddle at just that point. Ten minutes later, with dead silence about +him, Jerry retreated into the woods and spent the night under a ledge +of shielding rock. + +He had lived too long in the easy security of cities to pit his +woodcraft against an unknown number of pursuers whose eyes and ears +were more than a match for his own in the dark. Had he known every foot +of the way, night travel would have been safer, but, imperfectly +familiar with the blind trails he meant to move only when he could +gauge his course and pursue it cautiously step by step. + +From sunrise to dark on the following day he went at the rate of a +half-mile an hour through thickets that lacerated his face and tore the +skin from his hands and wrists. Often he lay crouched close to the +ground, listening. + +He had no food and dared not show his face at any house, and since he +must avoid well-defined paths, he multiplied the distance so that when +he arrived on the familiar ground of his own neighborhood, his hunger +had become an acute pain and his weariness amounted to exhaustion. +Incidentally, he had slipped once and wrenched his ankle. Within a +radius of two miles were two houses only, Lone Stacy's and Brother +Fulkerson's. The Stacy place would presumably be watched, but Brother +Fulkerson would not deny him food and shelter. + +Painfully, yard by yard, he crept down the mountainside to the rear of +the preacher's abode. Then on a tour of reconnaissance he cautiously +circled it. There were no visible signs of picketing and through one +unshuttered window came a grateful glow of lamplight. + +He dared neither knock on the door nor scratch on the pane, but he +remembered the signal that had been Bear Cat Stacy's. He had heard the +boy give it, and now he cautiously repeated, three times, the softly +quavering call of the barn-owl. + +It was a moonless night, but the stars were frostily clear and as the +refugee crouched, dissolved in shadow, against the mortised logs of the +cabin's corner, the door opened and Blossom stood, slim and straight, +against the yellow background of the lamp-lit door. + +She might have seemed, to one passing, interested only in the +star-filled skies and the starkly etched peaks, but in a low voice of +extreme guardedness she demanded, "Bear Cat, where air ye?" + +Henderson remembered that Turner, too, was "hiding out" and that this +girl had the ingrained self-repression of a people inured to the perils +of ambuscade. Without leaving the cancellation of the shadowed wall he +spoke with a caution that equaled her own. + +"Don't seem to hear me ... just keep looking straight ahead.... It's +not Bear Cat.... It's Henderson ... and they are after me.... So far +I've escaped ... but I reckon they're following." He had seen the +impulsive start with which she heard his announcement and the instant +recovery with which she relaxed her attitude into one of less tell-tale +significance. "Thank God," breathed the pursued man, "for that +self-control!" + +He detected a heart-wrenching anxiety in her voice, which belied the +picture she made of unruffled simplicity as she commanded in a tense +whisper, "Go on, I'm hearkenin'." + +"Go back into the house," he directed evenly. "Close the window +shutters ... then open the back door...." + +She did not obey with the haste of excitement. She was too wise for +that, but paused unhurriedly, humming an ancient ballade, as though the +stresses of life had no meaning for her, before she drew back and +closed the door. + +Reappearing, at the window, she repeated the same convincing assumption +of untroubled indolence as she drew in the heavy shutters; but a moment +later she stood shaken and blanched of cheek at the rear door. "Come in +hastily," she pleaded. "Air ye hurted?" + +Slipping through the aperture, Henderson smiled at her. His heart had +leaped wildly as he read the terror of her eyes: a terror for his +danger. + +"I'm not hurt," he assured her, "except for a twisted ankle, but it's a +miracle of luck. Where's your father?" + +No actress trained and finished in her art could have carried off with +greater perfection a semblance of tranquillity than had Blossom while +his safety hung in the balance. Now, with that need ended, she leaned +back against the support of the wall with her hands gropingly spread; +weak of knee and limp almost to collapse. Her amber eyes were +preternaturally wide and her words came with gasping difficulty. She +had forgotten her striving after exemplary grammar. + +"He hain't hyar--he won't be back afore to-morrow noon. Thar hain't +nobody hyar but me." + +"Oh!" The monosyllable slipped from the man's lips with bitter +disappointment. He knew the rigid tenets of mountain usage--an +unwritten law. + +A stranger may share a one-roomed shack with men, women and children, +but the traveler who is received into a cabin in the absence of its men +compromises the honor of its women. + +"Oh," he repeated dejectedly, "I was seekin' shelter for the night. I'm +famishin' an' weary. Kin ye give me a snack to eat. Blossom, afore I +fares forth again?" + +It was with entire unconsciousness that he had slipped back into the +rough vernacular of his childhood. At that moment he was a man who had +rubbed elbows with death and he had reverted to type as instinctively +as though he had never known any other life. + +"Afore ye fares forth!" In Blossom's eyes blazed the same Valkyrie fire +that had been in them as she barred his path to Bear Cat Stacy's still. +"Ye hain't a-goin ter fare forth, ter be murdered! I aims ter hide ye +out right hyar!" + +Civilization just then seemed far away; the primal very near--and, in +that mood, the hot currents of long-denied love for this woman who was +defying her own laws to offer him sanctuary, mounted to supremacy. Such +a love appeared as logical as a little while ago it had seemed +illogical. Eagle blood should mate with eagle blood. + +"But, little gal," Jerry protested, "ye're alone hyar. I kain't hardly +tarry. Ef hit became known----" + +"Thet's jest ther reason," she flashed back at him, "thet nobody won't +suspicion ye _air_ hyar an' ef ye're in peril hit don't make no differ +ter me what folks says nohow. I aims ter safeguard ye from harm." + +His eyes, darkly ringed by fatigue and hunger, held an even deeper +avidity. He looked at the high-chinned and resolute face crowned with +masses of hair which lamp-light and hearth-glow kindled into an aura +and deep into amber eyes that were candid with their confession of +love. Slowly Jerry Henderson put his question--a question already +answered. + +"I reckon ye knows what this means, Blossom. Why air ye willin' ter +venture hit?" + +Still leaning tremulously against the chinked wall, she answered with +the thrill of feeling and purpose in her voice. + +"I hain't askin' what hit means. I hain't keerin' what hit means. All I +knows it thet ye're in peril--an' thet's enough." + +Jerry caught her in his arms, crushed her to him, felt her lips against +his lips; her arms clinging softly about his neck, and at last he +spoke--no longer with restraint. + +"Until to-night I've always fought against love and I thought I was +stronger than _it_ was, but I reckon that was just because I've never +really come face-to-face with its full power, before. Now I'm going out +again." + +"No! No! I won't suffer hit," she protested with fervent vehemence. +"Ye're a-goin' ter stay right hyar. Ye b'longs ter me now an' I aims +ter keep ye--unharmed!" + +Abruptly they fell silent, warned by some premonitory sense and, as +they stood listening, a clamor of knocking sounded at the door. + +Thrusting him into her bedroom and screening him behind a mass of +clothing that hung in a small corner closet unenclosed, but deeply +shadowed, she braced herself once more into seeming tranquillity and +went to the front of the house. Then she threw wide the door. + +"We wants ter hev speech with Brother Fulkerson," came the unrecognized +voice of a stranger whose hat brim shielded his face in the darkness. + +"He hain't hyar an' he won't be back afore midday ter-morrow," +responded the girl with ingenuous composure. "I kain't hardly invite ye +in--because I'm hyar all alone," she added with a disarming gravity. +"Will ye leave any message?" + +Out there among the shadows she heard the murmurs of a whispered +consultation, and despite a palpitation of fear she bravely held the +picture. + +Then, partly because her manner carried conviction against suspicion, +and partly because to enter would be to reveal identities, the voice +shouted back: "No, thank ye, ma'am. I reckon we'll fare on." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +Before Henderson had come that night, Blossom had been trying to study, +but the pages of her book had developed the trick of becoming blurred. + +Two faces persisted in rising before her imagination; one, the +reproachful countenance of Bear Cat, whom she ought to love +whole-heartedly; the other, that of Henderson, whom she told herself +she admired only as she might admire the President of the United States +or the man who had written the dictionary--with distant and respectful +appreciation. + +"He says I'm all right," she mused, "but I reckon he _knows_ in his +heart that I ain't good enough fer him--ner fer his folks." + +Tears sprang into her eyes at the confession, and her reasoning went +upon the rocks of illogic. "In the first place," she irrelevantly +argued, "I'm in love with Bear Cat--an' in the second to think about +Mr. Henderson would be right smart like crying for the moon." + +Then Henderson had come; had come asking refuge from danger. He had +declared his love with tumultuous force--and it seemed to Blossom that, +after all, the moon was hers without crying for it. + +When she had fed him in silence, because of the possibility of lurking +spies outside, they sat, unmindful of passing hours, before the roar of +the stone hearth and as the man's arms held her close to him she let +her long lashes droop over her eyes and surrendered her hair and lips +to his kisses. + +They had no great need of words, but sometimes she raised her lids and +gazed steadfastly into his face, and as the carmine flecks of the blaze +lighted her cheeks, the eyes were wide and unmasked, with a full, yet +proud, surrender. + +He thought that for this gift of flower-like beauty and love the +abandonment of his stern opportunism was a cheap exchange. His eyes, +too, were glowing with an ardent light and both were spared the irony +of realization that afterward impulse must again yield to the +censorship of colder considerations. There is nothing more real than an +impossible dream--while it endures. + +Once the girl's glance fell on a home-made doll, with a coarse wig of +horse-hair, propped on the mantel-shelf. It was one of those crude +makeshifts which mountain children call poppets, as our +great-grandfathers' great-grandmothers called them puppets. + +A shadow of self-accusing pain crossed Blossom's face. "Turney whittled +that poppet fer me outen hickory wood when I was a jest a leetle gal," +she whispered remorsefully, then added: "Turney 'lowed ter wed me some +day." + +Henderson reassured her with irrefutable logic. + +"Turner wouldn't have you disobey your heart, Blossom. Only you must be +sure what your heart commands." + +"I _am_ sure. I'm plumb dead-sartain sure!" she vehemently responded, +though still in a suppressed voice. + +They sat before the fire, alertly wakeful, in the shadow of impending +danger until the first pale hint of dawn. Then Blossom went out with +water pails, ostensibly busied about her early tasks but really on a +journey of investigation. + +Returning, satisfied of temporary safety, she said briefly and +authoritatively: "Come on, hit won't do fer ye ter tarry hyar. They'll +come back, sartain sure. Thar's a leetle cave back thar in ther rocks +that's beknownst only to Turner an' me. Hit's dry an' clean an' thar's +sweet water runnin' through hit. I'll fotch ye yore victuals every +day--an' when the s'arch fer ye lets up a leetle, I'll guide ye acrost +inter Virginny whar ye kin strike the railroad without goin' back to +Marlin Town." + +"If I were you, Blossom," suggested the man as they slipped out of the +house before full daylight, "I wouldn't tell Brother Fulkerson anything +about my hiding place. These men who seek my life are probably +influential. If your father can truthfully deny any knowledge of my +being near, it will save him embarrassment. I don't want to make +enemies for him--and you." + +The girl pondered this phase of the situation judicially for a moment, +then nodded gravely: "I reckon thet's ther wisest way," she agreed. + +For three days Blossom carried food across the steeps to the hidden +man, then late one cold night, when again her father was away on some +mission of kindness which would keep him from home for twenty-four +hours or more, she appeared at the mouth of the cave and signaled to +the refugee. + +She had decided that the moment had arrived for making the dash with +him across the Virginia border, and since she knew every foot of the +way, it would be better to travel in the cover of darkness. + +It was a long and tedious journey, and the girl led the way tirelessly +through frost-rimed thickets with a resilient endurance that seemed +incompatible with her slenderness. + +When the rising sun was a pale disk like platinum, they had arrived on +the backbone of a high ridge and the time had come for parting. + +Below them banks of white vapor obliterated the valleys. Above them, in +the misty skies, began to appear opalescent patches of exquisite color +and delicacy. About them swept and eddied clean and invigorating +currents of frosted air. + +For a little while reluctant of leave-taking, they stood silent, and +the argent shield of the sun burst into fiery splendor. Then the +heights stood out brilliant and unveiled. + +"I reckon," said Blossom falteringly, "hit's come time to bid ye +farewell." + +The man took her hands in his and held them lingeringly; but with a +sudden and passionate gesture Blossom withdrew them and threw her arms +about his neck. + +"But ye hain't a-goin' fer always? Ye aims ter come back ter me ergin +in good time, don't ye?" + +For a little while he held her tightly clasped with his lips pressed to +her soft hair, then he spoke impetuously: + +"I aims ter come back ter ye right soon." + +"Ye mustn't come twell hit's safe, though," she commanded, and after +that she asked softly: "Now thet we're plighted I reckon ye don't +forbid me ter tell my pappy, does ye?" + +Henderson's muscles grew suddenly rigid and beads of sweat moistened +his forehead in spite of the frosty tang of the morning air. + +The words brought back a sudden and terrifying realization; the renewed +conflict of a dilemma. He was going out into the other world, leaving +the dead reckoning of the primal for the calculated standards of +modernity. He was plighted to a semi-illiterate! Yet as her breath came +fragrantly from upturned lips against his temples, all that went down +under a wave of passionate love. + +"No, Blossom," he advised steadily, "don't tell him yet. There are +things that must be arranged--things that are hard to explain to you +just now. Wait until I come back. I've got to study out this attack +from ambush so that I can know whom I'm fighting and how to fight. It +may take time--and if I write to you, naming a place,--will you come to +me?" + +Gravely and with full trust she nodded her head. "I'll come +anywhars--an' any time--to you," she told him, and the man kissed her +good-bye. + + * * * * * + +Turner Stacy's longing to see Blossom had driven him to the imprudence +of breaking the restrictions of exile. After traveling by night and +hiding by day it happened that he was breasting a ridge just at sunrise +one morning on his way to her house, when his alert gaze caught an +indistinct movement through the hazy half-light of the dawn. He could +make out only that two figures seemed coming west along the mist-veiled +path and that they appeared to be the figures of a man and a woman. + +Surprised to encounter travelers at so remote a spot at that hour, he +edged cautiously into the underbrush and lay flat on a huge rock which +overlooked the path from a low eminence at its right. + +They had halted just beyond the range of hearing, but when with +mountain suddenness, like a torn curtain, the half-light became +full-light he froze into a petrified astonishment which seemed to have +clutched and squeezed all the vitality out of his heart, and to have +left his blood currentless. + +The abrupt revelation of light had fallen on the bright hair of Blossom +Fulkerson and the dark uncovered head of Jerry Henderson; and before +the monstrous incredibility of the situation could be fully grasped, +the girl, to whom he had bade farewell as his acknowledged sweetheart, +had thrown her arms around the neck of the man to whose loyal care he +had confided her, and that man was kissing her with a lover's ardor! + +What their words might be he could not tell--but their clinging embrace +said enough--and Blossom was giving her lips with eager willingness. + +[Illustration: What their words might be he could not tell--but their +clinging embrace said enough] + +Bear Cat lay for a moment, sick, dizzy and motionless while a groan, +which never reached his lips, spasmodically shook his chest and +shoulders. Succeeding that paralyzed instant, a fever of unspeakable +fury surged over him and while all the rest of his body stretched +unstirring, his arms slipped forward and the muzzle of his rifle crept +over the ledge of rock. But that, too, was only a response to instinct +and the thumb halted in the act of cocking the hammer. His vengeance +called not only for satisfaction but for glutting. + +Henderson must die face to face with him, not by the stealth of +ambuscade, but by open violence to be administered with bare +hands--realizing the cause of his punishment--dying by inches! + +But as he was on the point of rising to confront them, something +arrested him: the stupor of a man whose mind and heart had trusted so +implicitly that they could not yet fully credit even the full +demonstration of his eyes. This must, despite all its certainty, be +some hallucination--some wide-eyed nightmare! + +While the spell of his stunned heart held him in the thrall of +inaction, Henderson and Blossom parted with slow reluctance and took up +their opposite direction of journey. + +Left alone, like a man sitting, shaken and demoralized, upon the broken +debris of a wrecked universe, Turner stared ahead with a dull +incredulity. But inaction was foreign to his nature and after a while +he rose unsteadily to his feet. He turned and started at a swift stride +which broke presently into a dog-trot along the way Henderson had +taken; then he hesitated, halted and wheeled in his tracks. + +"No!" he exclaimed. "No, by God, ef I meets up with _him_ the way I +feels now, I'll kill him afore he has ther chanst ter speak with me. I +kain't govern myself. I aims ter let _her_ tell hit to me her own +self!" + +So he altered his direction and went plunging westward. + +A short route through broken rock and tangled brush enabled him to cut +ahead of Blossom's course so that, turning an abrupt angle in the +trail, the girl found him standing before her with clenched hands and a +face so set and pale that she started back. It seemed to her that, +instead of himself, it was his ghost which confronted her. + +With a slow and stifled outcry, at the apparition, she carried her +hands to her face, then broke into convulsive sobs. + +"I didn't aim ter eavesdrop, Blossom," said Turner, his sternness +wavering before her tears. "But I seed ye givin' yore lips ter Jerry +Henderson back thar. Hit seems ter me like I kin almost discern the +stain of thet kiss soilin' em now. I reckon I ought rightfully ter hev +speech with him fust--but I knowed I'd kill him ef I did--an' so I held +my hand twell I'd done seed _you_." + +They were both trembling, and the girl's hands came slowly away from a +face pitifully agitated. Her voice was a whisper. + +"Ye mustn't censure me, Turney," she huskily protested. "I'm +plighted--ter _him_." + +"Plighted!" The word broke from the man as explosively as an oath, then +after a moment's silence she heard him saying, in a slow and stunned +fashion: "I 'lowed thet ye war all but plighted to _me_." + +"I knows--I knows, Turney," she pleaded desperately. "I wants thet ye +should understand. I thought thet I loved ye--I _do_ love ye better +then ef ye war my own blood brother--but I didn't know afore now ther +kind of love thet--thet----" + +"Thet Jerry Henderson's done stole from me," he finished for her, in a +voice she had never before heard on his lips. "Atter all I did make a +mistake. Hit _war_ him I should hev spoke with fust--an' I reckon hit +hain't too late ter overtake him yit." + +Her hands were clinging to his arms. "No, Turney," she sought to +explain. "He didn't know hit an' I didn't know hit either, when ye +left. Neither one of us wouldn't hev sought ter lie ter ye." + +Bear Cat Stacy was only partly conscious of what she was saying. Before +his eyes swam red spots of fury which blinded him. If there was any +vestige of truth in his ugly suspicion that Blossom was being deceived +or played with, the responsible man, trusted friend and admired +preceptor though he had been, was Bear Cat's to kill--and must die! + +So he stood, tensely strained of attitude and ashen of cheek while a +murder light kindled afresh in his eyes, and Blossom seemed the +wavering shape of a dream: the dream of every hope his life had +known--now utterly unattainable. Her fingers were clutching his taut +arms yet she seemed suddenly withdrawn from his world, leaving it void. + +But she was talking earnestly, beseeching, and with the strained effort +of one striving to separate lucid voices from the chaotic din of a +delirium, he gave painstaking heed. She told the story of Jerry's +narrow escape from death and of her conducting him to a place of safe +departure. Part of it only he understood through the crashing +dissonance of tempest which still confused his brain. + +The volcanic fires within him that were destined to bring earthquake +and transition were licking consumingly at the gates of his +self-control. + +His whole life had been builded on a single dream: the dream of her +love--and she had promised it. For that he had fought the one enemy +that had ever mastered him, and had conquered. For that he had shaped +his life. Now he had been robbed of everything! + +"Don't ye see how hit is, Turney?" she pleaded. "Hit wasn't his fault +ner hit wasn't my fault.... Hit jest had ter be! Ye sees how hit is, +don't ye?" + +"Yes, I sees--how hit is!" The response came dully, then with a nearer +recovery of a natural tone he went on. "Anyways I reckon ye've got ther +right ter decide atween us. I reckon yore heart's yore own ter give or +withhold. Hit war ter me that ye pledged yoreself first. Yore first +kiss was mine--an' ye suffered me ter hope an' believe." There was a +strained pause, then he added: "But even ef I could hold yer erginst +yore free will, I wouldn't seek ter do hit." + +Blossom's contrite wretchedness was so sincere and her sympathy so +inarticulate that his face presently changed. The bitter and accusing +sternness died gradually out of it and after a grief-stricken moment +gave way to a great gentleness--such a gentleness as brought a +transformation and stamped his lips and brow with a spirit of +renunciation. + +"Thar was murder in my heart, jest at first, little gal," he assured +her softly, "but I reckon atter all hit's a right-pore love thet seeks +ter kill a man fer gainin' somethin' hit's lost hitself. He kin take ye +down thar whar life means sich things as ye desarves ter enjoy. With me +ye'd have ter endure ther same hardships thet broke my mother down. I +wants above all else thet ye should be happy--an' ef I kain't make ye +happy----" He paused abruptly with a choked throat and demanded: "When +does ye aim ter wed?" + +The girl flushed. She did not think Turner would accord a sympathetic +understanding to her lover's somewhat vague attitude on that point, so +she only answered. "He 'lows ter write ter me--ef so be he kain't come +back soon." + +"Write ter ye!" The militant scorn snapped again in his eyes, burning +away their softness as a prairie fire consumes dry grass, in its first +hot breath. "Write ter ye! No, by Almighty God in Heaven, ye says ye're +plighted ter wed him! Ye've done suffered him ter hold ye in his arms. +Mountain men comes ter fotch thar brides ter church--they don't send +fer 'em ter journey forth an' meet 'em. In these hills of old Kaintuck +men come to thar women! He's got ter come hyar an' claim ye ef he has +ter fight his way acrost every league of ther journey--an' ef he +_don't_----!" But Bear Cat broke off suddenly with a catch in his +voice. + +"I've got full trust, Turney," she declared, and her eyes showed it, so +that the man forced himself to calmness again, and went on in a level +voice. + +"I aims ter see thet ye hes what ye wants, Blossom, ef I hes ter plumb +tear ther hills down level by level ter git hit fer ye. I must be +a-farin' back inter Virginny," he announced a moment later with a +curtness meant to bulwark him against a fresh outburst of feeling. + +Blossom raised her hands as if to detain him, then let them drop again +with a pathetic gesture. Bear Cat picked up his hat which had fallen to +the ground and stood crushing its limp brim in his clenched fingers. +Finally he said, without anger, but very seriously: "I wants thet ye +should give me back my pledge--erbout drinkin'. Ye knows why I give hit +ter ye--an' now----" + +"Oh, Turner," she interrupted protestingly, "don't ask thet!" + +"I'm obleeged ter ask hit, Blossom," he obdurately answered. "I reckon +mebby I kin still win my fight with licker--but I mustn't be beholden +by a bond thet's lost hits cause." + +Tearfully she nodded her head. "I'll free ye if ye demands hit," she +conceded, "but I aims ter go on a-prayin'." + + * * * * * + +Jerry Henderson was not a scoundrel in a general sense nor had he +hitherto been a weakling, but for once he was the self-governed man who +has lost control of his life and fallen victim to vacillation. Surging +waves of heart-hunger made him want to go recklessly back; to fight his +way, if need be, through all the Towers' minions to Blossom's side and +claim her as his promised bride. + +Other and perhaps saner waves of tremendous misgiving beat with steady +reiteration against those of impulse. He must live out most of his days +among people to whom such an alliance would be stripped of all +illusion; would resolve itself into nothing more than a mesalliance. +For both of them it would eventuate in wreck--and so Blossom heard +nothing from him and she tasted first fear, then despair. + +At last Kinnard Towers either learned or guessed the truth; that +Blossom had hidden Henderson out in the absence of her father and had +aided his escape. He saw to it that the report gained wide currency in +a land avid for gossip. + +Whatever the condition of his love affairs, Jerry came up short against +the realization that he could not indefinitely abandon his business. He +must, in some way, demonstrate that he was not being effectively put to +flight by feudal threats and so he carried his perplexities to Lone +Stacy, who was awaiting trial in the Louisville jail, and unbosomed +himself in a full and candid recital. + +The bearded moonshiner, gaunter than ever and with the haunted eyes of +a caged eagle, listened with grave courtesy but with a brow that +gradually knitted into an expression half puzzled and half sinister. + +"I reckon Bear Cat'll feel right-sensibly broke up," he said slowly. +"Ye've done cut him out with his sweetheart, endurin' his absence from +home, and ther two of 'em's growed up without no other notion then thet +of bein' wed some day." + +Henderson was on the point of self-justification, but before he could +speak the prisoner went thoughtfully on: "Howsoever, a gal's got a +rather as to her sweet-heartin'--an' ef ye won her fa'r an' +above-board, I reckon Turner kin be fa'r-minded, too. I was thinkin' of +somethin' else, though. From what ye tells me hit looks like es ef all +these things, my jailin' an' yore lay-wayin', is jest pieces of one +pattern. Hit looks like _I_ was brought down hyar so thet Kinnard +Towers could git _you_. Ef I'd a-knowed erbout his warnin' ye off thet +night ye came, I mout hev guessed hit afore now." + +He rose and paced the floor of the room where prisoners were permitted +to receive guests bearing special permits--under the chaperonage of a +turnkey. Suddenly he halted and his eyes flared, though his voice +remained low and tense. + +"I'm a Christian an' a man of peace," he said ominously, "but ef what I +suspicions air true I don't aim ter submit ter hit. Does ye want ter go +back thar ter Little Slippery?" + +"I do, indeed," replied Henderson eagerly. "And soon!" + +"All right then. Ther Stacys hev still got some power acrost Cedar +Mounting an' they aims ter exercise hit. I'll straightway send a letter +ter my brother, Joe Stacy. Ef ye gits offen ther train in Marlin Town +one week from terday, he'll be thar ter meet ye--an' he'll hev enough +men thar with rifle-guns ter see ye through safe--an' hold ye safe, +too." + +"Joe Stacy," repeated Henderson, "I've never met him, have I?" + +"I don't hardly believe ye hes. He dwells on Skinflint, but he'll know +_you_ when he sees ye." + +Later that same day the turnkey, who had from time to time received +certain courtesies from Mark Tapper, repeated the conversation to that +officer, and within forty-eight hours a messenger relayed it verbally +to Kinnard Towers. + +"Ef thar's any way ter head off thet letter ter Joe, now," reflected +the backwoods master of intrigue, "an' thet bodyguard don't show up--I +reckon we kin still compass what we failed in, ther first time." + + * * * * * + +To the house in Virginia where Bear Cat was temporarily established +came Lew Turner, a distant kinsman on an enterprise of cattle trading. +The meeting was a coincidence though a natural one, since their host +was a man who had migrated from Little Slippery and had long been known +to both. Shortly the two sat alone in conversation, and Bear Cat +demanded news from home. + +"Wa'al thar hain't no welcome tidings ter give ye. They keeps puttin' +off yore paw's trial jest ter frazzle him out, fer one thing," began +the newcomer lugubriously. "Then Henderson come back from down below +an' some fellers aimed ter lay-way him, so he sought refuge in Brother +Fulkerson's dwellin'-house when ther preacher warn't thar. Blossom tuck +him in outen charity an' the two of 'em spent ther night thar all alone +by tharselves. Hit didn't become gin'rally known till after he'd got +away safe, but then ther gossips started in tongue-waggin'." + +"Hold on, Lew! By God Almighty, ye've done said too much," Bear Cat +broke out with a dangerous note of warning, his eyes narrowing into +slits of menacing glitter. + +The man from home hastily hedged his statement. "Hit warn't no fashion +Blossom's fault. He'd done faithfully promised ter wed with her." + +Bear Cat Stacy had risen eruptively out of his chair. He bent over the +intervening table, resting on hands in which the knuckles stood out +white. "Go on!" he commanded fiercely. "What next?" + +"Thet's erbout all, save thet since thet time she's done been pinin' +round like somebody sickenin' ter her death. Es fer ther preacher, he +just clamps his mouth shet an' won't say nothin' at all. Howsoever, he +looks like he'd done been stricken." + +Bear Cat straightened up and passed a hand across his forehead. He was +rocking unsteadily on his feet as he reached for his hat. + +"Whar air ye a-goin', Bear Cat?" asked the kinsman, with a sudden fear +for the consequences of his narrative. + +"Whar am I 'goin'? God, He knows! Wharever Jerry Henderson's at, +_thar's_ whar I'm 'goin'--an' no man hed better seek ter hinder me!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +The post-office at Possum Trot, which serves the dwellers along the +waters of Skinflint, is housed in one corner of a shack store and the +distribution of its mail is attended with a friendly informality. + +Thus no suspicion was engendered when a neighbor of Joe Stacy's dropped +in each day and regularly volunteered, with a spirit of neighborly +accommodation, "I reckon ef thar's anything fer Joe Stacy or airy other +folks dwellin' 'twixt hyar an' my house, I'll fotch hit over to 'em." + +The post-master had no way of knowing that this person was an agent of +Kinnard Towers or that, when one day he handed out a letter "backed" to +Joe in the scrawl of Lone Stacy, it went not to its rightful recipient +but to the Quarterhouse. + +Jerry Henderson, in due time, stepped from his day coach at Marlin +Town, equally innocent of suspicion, and was pleased to see emerging +from the raw, twilight shadows, a man, unfamiliar of face, whose elbow +cradled a repeating rifle. + +"I reckon ye be Jerry Henderson, hain't ye?" inquired a suave and +amicable voice, and with a nod Jerry replied, "Yes--and you are Joe +Stacy?" + +The man, slight but wiry and quick of movement, shook his head. "No--my +name's John Blackwell. Joe, he couldn't hardly git hyar hisself, so he +sent me in his stid but I reckon me an' ther boys kin put ye over ther +route, without _dee_fault." + +As if in corroboration of this assurance Jerry saw shadowy shapes +materializing out of the empty darkness and as he mounted the extra +horse provided for him he counted the armed figures swinging easily +into their saddles. There were eight of them. His personal escort was +larger than that with which Towers himself traveled abroad. + +But when the cortege swung at length into an unfamiliar turning Jerry +was startled and demanded sharply: "Why are we leaving the high road? +This isn't the way to Lone Stacy's house." + +The man who had met him bowed with a reassuring calmness. + +"No, but Joe 'lowed hit would be safer an' handier, too, fer ye ter +spend ther night at his house on Skinflint. Hit's nigher an' all these +men air neighbors of his'n. Ter-morrow you kin fare on ter Little +Slippery by daylight." + +With an acquiescent nod, Henderson relapsed into silence and they rode +in the starlight without sound save the thud of cuppy hooves on muddy +byways, the straining creak of stirrup straps and a clinking of +bit-rings. + +Finally the cavalcade halted at a crossing where the shadows lay in +sooty patches and its leader detached himself to engage in low-voiced +converse with someone who seemed to have been suddenly created out of +the pitchy thickness of the roadside. + +Soon Blackwell rode back and, with entire seriousness, made a startling +suggestion. + +"Right down thar, in thet valley, Mr. Henderson--whar ye kin see a +leetle speck of light--sets Kinnard Towers' Quarterhouse. Would hit +pleasure ye ter stop off thar an' enjoy a small dram? Hit's a +right-chillin' night." + +The railroad's agent had never visited that place of whose ill repute +he had heard such bizarre tales, but in all this high, wild country, he +thought, there was no other spot of which it so well behooved his party +to ride wide. John Blackwell was lighting his pipe just then and by the +flare of the match Henderson studied the face for a glint of jesting, +but the eyes were humorless and entirely sober. + +"I think we'd better give the Quarterhouse as wide a berth as +possible," he answered dryly. + +"Hits fer you ter say, Mr. Henderson," was the quiet rejoinder. "But +I'll give ye Joe Stacy's message. From what his brother writ him Joe +concluded thet Lone warn't aimin' ter start no needless strife with +Kinnard Towers, but he aimed ter make hit p'intedly cl'ar thet ther +Stacys was detarmined ter pertect ye, an' thet ye'd done come back hyar +plumb open an' upstandin'." + +"That's true enough," assented Jerry. "I'm not trying to hide out, but +I don't see any profit in walking into the lion's den." + +The guide nodded sympathetically. He seemed imbued with the excellent +military conception of obeying orders and proffering no gratuitous +counsel. + +"Joe 'lowed thet ef things looked favorable hit mout be a right-bold +sort of thing an' a right wise one, too, to stop in thar as ye rid by. +Hit's a public tavern--an' hit would prove thet ye're hyar, with a +bodyguard, neither seekin' trouble ner fearin' hit." + +"Why didn't you suggest this before, Mr. Blackwell?" inquired Henderson +to whom the very effrontery of the plan carried an appeal. + +"Joe didn't want me ter risk even namin' hit ter ye twell we knowed how +ther land lay over thar," came the prompt and easy response. "Ye seed +me talkin' with a man out front thar jest now, didn't ye? Wa'al thet +war one of our boys, thet come direct from ther Quarterhouse, ter bear +me ther tidin's. Thar hain't more'n a handful of men thar now--an' half +of 'em's our friends. I reckon ye hain't in no great peril nohow so +long as we're all tergither--an' full-armed." + +Henderson felt that already his prestige had suffered from an +appearance of flight. Here was an opportunity ready to hand for its +complete rehabilitation. The bold course is always the best defense, +and his decision was prompt. + +"Come on then. Let's go in." + +At the long rack in front of the frowning stockade, as they dismounted +and hitched, were already tethered a half-dozen horses. + + * * * * * + +Bear Cat Stacy, impelled by Lew Turner's news, traveled in a fever of +haste. He meant to go as straight as a hiving bee to Marlin and if need +be to follow Henderson to the lowlands of Kentucky. Henderson had +compromised Blossom, by the undeviating standards of mountain code, and +he must come back and marry her even if he had to be dragged out of the +most conspicuous place in Louisville itself. Casting all considerations +of precaution and safety to the winds, the lover, whose devotion called +for self-effacement, sought only the shortest way, and the shortest way +led past the Quarterhouse. + +When he was within a mile of the point where Towers' resort straddled +the state line he met a mounted man with a lantern swinging at his +pommel. + +"I kain't tarry ter hev speech with ye, Sim," he said shortly, "I'm in +hot haste." + +Yet as the other drawled a question, Bear Cat did tarry and a cold +moisture dewed his temples. + +"Did ye know thet yore friend, Jerry Henderson, hed done come back?" +inquired Sim, and Turner's limbs trembled, then grew stiff as saddle +leather. + +"Come back! When did he come? Whar is he now?" The questions tumbled +upon each other with a mounting vibrance of impetuosity. + +"I war a-ridin' inter the road outen a side path a leetle spell back +when I heered hosses an' so I drawed up ter let 'em go by," the chance +traveler informed him. "I reckon they didn't hardly discern me. I +hadn't lit my lantern then, but one of 'em lighted his pipe with a +match an' I _ree_cognized two faces. One was Mr. Henderson's an' one +was Sam Carlyle's. I seed sev'ral rifles acrost ther saddles, too." + +"Which way war they ridin'?" + +"'Peared like most likely they war makin' fer ther Quarterhouse." + +"I'm obleeged ter ye." And Bear Cat was gone again into the darkness. + +When he had turned the first bend his walk broke into a run. His mind +was racing, too. So Henderson had not only come back, but come back +with a reversed allegiance. He was riding with a Towers bodyguard and +bound for a Towers stronghold! The name of Sam Carlyle indicated that +as definitely as if it had been the name of Black Tom Carmichael. In +one way this dropping of all friendly pretense by Jerry made his own +task clearer and easier--but it was the most hazardous thing he had +ever undertaken. Single handed, he must go into the place where +bloodshed was no novelty and take Henderson away, and he went at a run. + +Presumably, Jerry Henderson would not stop long in the bar-room, but +would be conducted to the presence of Kinnard Towers, and, with all his +haste, Bear Cat's speed seemed to himself desperately slow. + +He and his father had protected this ingrate against Towers' wrath, he +bitterly reflected, and this was their requital. Their guest had used +that hospitality to steal the love of Blossom and then to discard her. +He had deceived her, compromised her, promised her marriage and fled in +the face of danger. Lew Turner had said: "She's been pinin' round like +somebody sickenin' ter her death!" That was what her full trust had +come to--and if she had trusted that far her trust might have gone +farther! Then finally from the secure distance of the city Henderson +had made his terms with Kinnard Towers! + +Now Blossom was going to be married--a heart-racking groan rumbled in +his throat. Blossom's wedding! How he had dreamed of it from his first +days of callow love-thoughts! He had fed his imagination upon pictures +of the house he had meant to build for her down there by the river! To +his nostrils now seemed to come the sweet fragrance of freshly hewn +timbers and sawed lumber; incense of home-making! A hundred times he +had visualized himself--the ceremony over--riding proudly with his +bride on a pillion behind him, as the mountain groom had always brought +his bride, from her father's house to his own--and her own! + +Now her honor required that an unwilling husband should be brought to +her--her honor and her heart's bruised wish--and he, who had planned it +all differently, must see the matter accomplished--to-night! + + * * * * * + +Henderson and his guard had strolled with a fine assumption of +carelessness into the barn-like resort and, as the handful of loiterers +there recognized them, an abrupt silence fell and glasses, half-raised, +were held for a moment poised. + +From a huge hearth-cavern at one end of the room leaped the ruddy +illumination of burning logs and fagots in the flaming proportions of a +bonfire. Wreaths of blue and brown smoke floated in foggy streamers +between the dark walls and up to the cobwebbed rafters. The lamps +guttered and flared against their tin reflectors, reeking with an oily +stench in the stagnation of the unaltered air. + +Along one end of the place went the bar, backed by its shelves of +bottles and thick glassware, and in each side wall gaped a door--one +for each state. Besides a few hickory-withed chairs there were several +even ruder tables and benches, riven with axe and adze out of wide +logs, and supported by such legs as those of a butcher's block. But +these furnishings were all near the walls--and the whole center area of +the floor, with its white-painted boundary line, was as unencumbered as +a deck cleared for action. + +The momentary surprise which greeted the newcomers was for the most +part fictitious--and carefully rehearsed, but of this Jerry Henderson +had no knowledge. + +He walked to the bar, followed by one or two of his guardians, and +extended a general invitation. "Gentlemen, it's my treat. What will +you-all have?" + +After the glasses had been filled and drained, Henderson went over and +stood for a while in the grateful warmth of the booming hearth. He was +looking on at this picture with its savor of medievalism--the ensemble +that called to mind a Hogarth prim, but soon he nodded to his guide who +slouched not far from his elbow. + +"I reckon we'd better fare on, Mr. Blackwell," he suggested evenly. +"We've still got a journey ahead of us." + +Blackwell seemed less impressed with the immediate urgency. + +"Thar hain't no tormentin' haste," he demurred. "We're all right +stiff-j'inted from ridin'. We mout as well limber up a leetle mite +afore we starts out ergin." + +Jerry's eyes clouded. He would have preferred finding a spirit of +readier obedience in his body-guard, but it was best to accept the +situation with philosophy. Accordingly he turned again to the bar, +though this time he made only a pretense of drinking. Fresh arrivals +had begun drifting in and the place now held more than a score. Among +them were already several whose voices were thickening or growing +shrill, according to their individual fashions of becoming drunk. + +Jerry sought to reassure himself against the disquieting birth of +suspicion, yet when he heard one of the newcomers address Blackwell as +Sam instead of John, an ugly apprehension settled upon him and this +foreboding was not allayed as he caught the response in a low and +savage growl: "Shet up, ye fool!" + +The temper of the motley outfit was rapidly growing boisterous, though +he himself seemed ignored until, in turning, he accidently jostled a +man whom he had never seen before to-night, and that individual wheeled +on him with an abusive truculence. Henderson's gorge rose, but his +realization was now fully awake to the requirement of self-control, so +with a good-natured retort he moved away. + +Beckoning peremptorily to Blackwell, he started at a deliberate pace +toward the door, but before he reached it, the staggering figure of the +quarrelsome unknown overtook him and lurched drunkenly against him. +Then Henderson felt a stunning blow in the face, and under its +unexpected force he reeled back against the wall. + +He was no longer in doubt. He had been beguiled here to be made the +victim of what should appear an accidental encounter, and all that +remained now was to sell his life at as punitive a rate as possible. + +As he reached under his coat for the automatic pistol which was his +sole remaining dependence, he caught in a sidewise glimpse the face of +Sam Carlyle alias John Blackwell. It wore a sardonic smile and its lips +opened like a trap to shout in a staccato abandonment of disguise. "Git +him, boys! _Git_ him!" + +It was palpably enough a signal for which they had been waiting, like +the pack-master's horn casting loose his hounds. Instantly the place +burst into an eruption of confused and frenzied tumult. Henderson had a +momentary sense of unshaven faces with lips drawn over wolfish fangs, +of the pungent reek of gunpowder in his nostrils and, in his ears, the +cracking of pistol reports--as yet sounding only in demonstration. + +With a few steps more they would be swarming upon him, as a pack piles +upon its defenseless quarry. But his own weapon spat doggedly, too, and +for the brevity of an instant the rush wavered. + +His assailants were crowding each other so hamperingly that the +fusillade from the front was wild and, at first, ineffective. Those at +the fore, cooled by a resolute reception and the sight of one of their +number going down, with a snarl of pain, pressed forcibly back. + +For the space of one quick breath, they afforded their victim a +reprieve. He was groping, with his left hand outstretched, against the +wall toward the nearby door, when he felt that arm grow numb and drop +limp at his side. Through his left shoulder darted a sensation hardly +recognized as pain. + +The two doors had not been closed. It was unnecessary. Before the +victim should reach either he would be riddled, and even if he gained +one he would fall before he could mount and ride away. Since they had +him at their mercy they could afford to toy with him. + +No one saw the figure that had materialized on the threshold to which +all the backs of the yelping crowd were turned. It had come unannounced +from the outer darkness. It stood for a moment looking on and in that +moment understood the only thing necessary to comprehend: that the man +who must be married to-night, was being prematurely assassinated. + +From his shadow of concealment at the door, this volunteer in the +conflict thrust forward his rifle. His lean jaws were set and his eyes +were full of a cold and very deadly light. It was the ringing voice of +his repeater that announced him as it launched into the place so swift +and fatal a sequence of messages that, to those inside, it appeared +that they were being raked by a squad's volley. + +The sharp challenge of the clean-mouthed rifle, multiplied by its echo, +dominated the muffled belching of revolvers like thunder crashing +through the smother of winds, and upon the drunken mob of murderers, +the effect was both immediate and appalling. To a savage lust for +violence succeeded panic and an uncontrollable instinct of flight. + +A very different performance had been rehearsed in advance. It had +contemplated a pretense of melee in which Jerry Henderson was to be +killed--and no one else was to suffer. What had been staged as a +bar-room brawl with an incidental murder had been switched without +prior notice into battle and siege, and as every head came about with +eyes starting and jaws sagging, many dropped and lay prone on the floor +to escape the scathe of flying lead. Utilizing the respite of diverted +attention, Jerry Henderson overturned a heavy table, behind which he +crouched. He was bleeding now from half a dozen wounds--and his only +thought was to die fighting. + +But that moment of terror-arrested inaction would not last, and before +it was spent, Bear Cat Stacy had hurled himself with hurricane fury +into the room, his rifle clubbed and flying, flail-like, about his +head. The brief advantage of surprise must be utilized for the rush +across the floor and, if it were to succeed, it must be accomplished +before the boldest recovered their poise. + +He must reach Henderson's side and the two must fight their way out +shoulder to shoulder. Henderson must not die--just yet! + +Turner Stacy covered half the distance by the sheer impetuosity of his +onslaught, and reached the painted line of the state border, before a +voice from the outskirts sought to rally the dismayed and disorganized +forces with a rafter-rocking howl: "Bear Cat Stacy! _Git_ him boys! Git +'em both!" + +But the new arrival was not easy to "git." He seemed an indestructible +spirit of devastation; a second Samson wielding the jaw bone of an ass +and wreaking death among his adversaries. He hurled aside his rifle +shattered against broken heads and caught up a heavy chair. He cast +away the chair, carrying a man down with it as it flew, and fought with +his hands. + +The superstition of his charmed life seemed to have something more of +verity, just then, than old wives' gossip. + +Then the initial spell of panic broke and those who had neither fled +nor fallen swarmed grimly upon him. The pistols broke out again in +their ragged yelping, but Bear Cat seemed everywhere at once, and +always at such close grips with one or more adversaries that lead could +not reach him save through the flesh of his assailants. And while this +deadly romp went forward, Henderson rose and ducked like a +jack-in-the-box behind his massive obstruction, sniping at such as fell +back from the core of the conflict. + +But preponderating numbers must ultimately prevail and neither Stacy +nor Henderson could have outlasted the minute in that inferno, had not +Sam Carlyle undertaken to hurl himself on Bear Cat when, for a moment, +the single combatant had wrenched himself free of the struggling mass. + +Carlyle dived instead of standing off and shooting, and with the +swiftness of a leopard's stroke Turner whipped out his pistol and +received the Towers henchman on its muzzle. + +"Hands high!" he ordered in a voice that crackled with pleasure at this +miracle of deliverance, and Carlyle, realizing too late his blunder, +stretched his arms overhead. Then giving back step by step and holding +the would-be assassin as a shield at his front, Bear Cat edged to the +corner of the table. He was bleeding, too, not in one place but in +many. + +"Git behind me, Henderson," he commanded briefly, "an' make yore way +ter ther door!" + +Roused to a fictitious strength by the infection of his rescuer's +prowess, the wounded promoter sought to gain his feet, but his legs +gave way under the seeming burden of tons. "I'm not just wounded," he +mused, "I'm riddled and shredded." Sinking back, he said gaspingly, +"Save yourself, Stacy.... I reckon ... I'm done for." + +But Bear Cat, crouching with his pistol thrust against the breast of +his human shield, snapped out his words with a resolve which appeared +ready to assume command over death itself. + +"Do what I tells ye! Ye kain't die yit--ye've got to endure fer a +spell. I hain't done with ye!" + +[Illustration: Then giving back step by step, Bear Cat edged to the +corner of the table] + +Pulling himself painfully up by the table's edge with his one sound +arm, Jerry made a panting and final effort, but, as he struggled, part +of his body became exposed and that was the signal for several +desultory shots. He fell back again, bleeding at the mouth, and the +spot where he collapsed was reddened with the flow from his wounds. + +Bear Cat Stacy's voice ripped out again in a furious roar. + +"Quit shootin'!" he yelled. "One more shoot an' I kills Sam Carlyle in +his tracks. I warns ye!" + +Carlyle turned his head, too, and bellowed across his shoulder. + +"Fer God's sake boys, hold up! He means hit!" + +As the racket subsided, Stacy knelt, still covering his hostage and +said briefly to Jerry, "Hook yore arm round my shoulders. I'll tote +ye." + +He came laboriously to his feet again with his clinging burden of +bleeding freight,--and abruptly Kinnard Towers appeared in the other +door. His voice was raised in a semblance of rage, corroborated by an +anger so well-simulated that it made his face livid. + +"What manner of hell's deviltry air all this?" he thundered. "Who +attacked these men in my place? By God, I don't 'low ter hev my house +turned into no murder den." His minions, acting on his orders, knew +their chief too well to argue, and as they fell shamefacedly silent, +Kinnard shouted to Bear Cat. + +"Son, let me succor ye. He looks badly hurted." + +"Succor, hell!" retorted Bear Cat grimly. "You an' me will talk later. +Now ef any feller follers me, I aims ter kill this man ye hires ter do +yore murderin'." + +At the hitching-rack several horses still stood tethered. There was +need for haste, for one fugitive was perhaps bleeding to death and the +other was wounded and exhausted. Some of the scattered murderers might +be already waiting, too, in the shadows of the thickets. + +Then for the first time Bear Cat spoke to Henderson of the mission that +had brought him there. + +"Now ye've got ter git up an' ride ter Brother Fulkerson's house," he +said, with a bitter curtness. "Ye're a-goin' ter be married ter-night." + +"Married! To-night!" Jerry was hanging limp in the arms of his rescuer. +His senses were reeling with pain and a weakness which was close to +coma, but at the tone he raised his lids and met the glittering eyes +that bent close, feeling a hot breath on his cheeks. This was the face +of the man who had recklessly walked into a death trap to save him, but +in its implacable fixity of feature there was now no vestige of +friendliness. + +"Married!" echoed the plunger feebly. "No, buried. I'm mortally hurt, I +tell you.... I'm dying. Just put me down and save yourself while ... +you can." + +But Bear Cat Stacy was lifting him bodily to the saddle and holding him +in place. + +"Dying?" he scornfully repeated. "I hopes ter God ye air, but afore ye +dies ye're agoin' ter be married. Maybe I'm dying, too--I don't +know--but I aims ter last long enough ter stand up with ye first." + + + + +CHAPTER XV + + +Kinnard Towers had spent that evening in his house at the distance of a +furlong from the stockaded structure wherein the drama of his +authorship was to be staged and acted. The cast, from principals to +supernumeraries, having been adequately rehearsed in lines and +business, his own presence on the scene would be not only unnecessary +but distinctly ill advised, and like a shrinkingly modest playwright, +he remained invisible. The plot was forcible in its direct simplicity. +A chance disturbance would spring out of some slight pretext--and +Henderson, the troublesome apostle of innovation, would fall, its +accidental and single victim. When death sealed his lips the only +version of the affair to reach alien ears would be that dictated by +Towers himself: the narrative of a regrettable brawl in a rough saloon. +Against miscarriage, the arrangements seemed airtight, and there was +need that it should be so for, desirable as was the elimination of +Jerry's activities, that object would not have warranted recklessly +fanning into active eruption the dormant crater of Stacy animosities. +However, with Lone Stacy in duress and Turner Stacy in hiding beyond +the state border, the hereditary foes were left leaderless--and would +hardly rise in open warfare. Moreover, Kinnard meant to insure himself +against contingencies by hastening to such prominent Stacys as might be +in communication with the absentees and avowing, with deep show of +conviction that, of all the turbulent affairs which had ever come to +focus in his tavern, nothing had so outraged him as this particular +calamity. He would appear eager for active participation in hunting +down and punishing the malefactors. + +Of course, a scape-goat might be required, perhaps more than one, but +there were men who could be well enough sacrificed to such a diplomatic +necessity. + +So during the first part of that evening, Kinnard sat comfortably by +his hearth, smoking his pipe with contemplative serenity the while he +waited for the rattle of firearms, which should announce the climax of +the drama. He allowed to drop on his knees the sheaf of correspondence +which had come to his hand through the courtesy of his nephew in the +legislature. These papers bore the caption: C. and S. E. Railways +Company: "_In Re_--Cedar Mountain extension," and they contained meaty +information culled from underground and confidential sources. + +Across the hearth from him, with bare feet spread to the blaze, sat the +well-trusted Tom Carmichael--sunk deep in meditation, though his eyes +were not entirely serene--nor cloudless of apprehension. + +"'Pears like ther show ought ter be startin' up," complained Towers +restively. "Ye seed 'em go inter ther Quarterhouse, ye said?" + +Tom nodded. + +"I watched 'em from ther shadders of ther roadside. They went in all +right. They're inside now." + +After a brief pause the lieutenant demanded querulously, "Ye've done +tuck inter account thet ther killin' of this feller from Looeyville's +goin' ter stir up them furriners down below, hain't ye, Kinnard? I +wouldn't be none astonished ef they sent them damn' milishy soldiers up +hyar ergin." + +"Ease yore mind, Tom." Towers spoke with the confidence of the +strategist who has, in advance, balanced the odds of campaign. "Ther +railroad will kick up hit's heels--an' snort like all hell--but ther +Co'te sets _hyar_--an' I carries ther Co'te in my breeches pocket." + +After a moment he added, "The only people I'm a-fear'd of air ther +Stacys--an' I've done arranged _thet_." + +At last across the frosty, sound-carrying distance, came the spiteful +crack of pistols, and Kinnard Towers leaned attentively forward in his +chair. + +"Them damn' fools air bunglin' hit, some fashion," he broke out +wrathfully. "Thar hain't no sort of sense in a-stringin' hit out so +long." + +A momentary diminuendo of the racket was followed by the sharp, +repeated bark of a rifle, which brought the intriguer violently to his +feet. + +"Hell's fiddle!" he ejaculated in sudden alarm. "They hain't finished +hit up yit! I cautioned 'em special not ter use no rifle-guns--jest +pistols, accidental like." + +Hatless and coatless, he rushed out and made for the Quarterhouse, +disquieted and alarmed by the din of a howling chorus which sounded +more like uncertain battle than orderly and definite assassination. + +Before his panting, galloping haste brought him to the stockade he +caught, above the confused pandemonium, a yell of: "Bear Cat Stacy! +_Git_ him! Git 'em both!" + +"Good God!" he muttered between grinding teeth. "Good God, them fools +air startin' ther war ergin! I've got ter stop hit!" + +If Bear Cat fell within the four walls of that house to-morrow would +dawn upon a country-side disrupted in open warfare. So Kinnard appeared +in the door, his face distorted with an ashen fury and sought, too +late, to assume again the role of pacifist and rescuer. + +As Bear Cat had gone stumbling out, bearing his burden of wounded and +misused humanity, two men started forward keyed for pursuit. + +"We kin still git 'em from ther brush," hazarded one, but with a biting +sarcasm the chieftain wheeled on the volunteer. + +"Stand where ye're at, ye fool! Ye've done flung away ther chanst--an' +plunged us all inter tribulation! Hain't I got no men thet hain't +damned bunglers?" + +He stood panting in a rage like hydrophobia. + +"Thet Bear Cat, he hain't mortal noways!" whined a disheveled youth who +nursed a limp arm. "I seed his chest square on my pistol sights, not +two yards' distant, an' I shot two shoots thet hed a right ter be +deadeners--but ther bullets jest bounced offen him. Ye kin bleed him a +leetle, but ye kain't in no fashion _kill_ him." + +Kinnard Towers stood looking about the debris of the place where +shattered bottles on the shelves and grotesque figures cluttering the +floor bore testimony to the hurricane that had swept and wrecked it. + +"Them fools war mortal enough," he disdainfully commented. "I reckon +ye'd better take a tally an' see what kin be done fer 'em." + + * * * * * + +Under stars that were frostily clear, Bear Cat Stacy rode doggedly on, +gripping in his arms the limp and helpless figure of Jerry Henderson. +Beneath his shirt he was conscious of a lukewarm seeping of moisture as +if a bottle had broken in an inner pocket and he recognized the leakage +as waste from his own arteries. + +Within his skull persisted a throbbing torture, so that from time to +time he closed his eyes in futile effort to ease the blinding and +confusing pain. With both arms wrapped about the insensible figure +before him, and one hand clutching his pistol, rather from instinct +than usefulness, he went with hanging reins. A trickle of blood filled +his eyes and, having no free hand, he bent and dabbed his face against +the shoulder of his human burden. Through all his joints and veins he +could feel the scalding rise of a fever wave like a swelling tide. To +his imagination this half-delirious recognition of sanity-consuming +heat became an external thing which he must combat with will-power. So +long as he could fight it down from engulfing and quenching his brain, +he told himself, he could go on. Failing in that, he would be drowned +in a steaming whirlpool of madness. + +The stark and shapeless ramparts of the hills became to his disordered +senses hordes of crowding Titans, pressing in ponderously to smother +and bury him. He felt that he must fend them off; hold back from +crushing and fatal assault the very mountains and the pitchiness of +death--for a while yet--until his task was finished. + +Above all he must think. No man could defeat death, but, for a +sufficient cause and with dauntless temper of resolution, a man might +postpone it. He must win Blossom's battle before he fell. He swayed +drunkenly in his saddle and gasped in his effort to breathe as a hooked +fish gasps, out of water. + +It seemed that on his breast lay all the massiveness of the rock-built +ranges and at his reason licked fiery tongues of lunacy so that he had +constant need to remind himself of his mission. + +There was some task that he had set out to accomplish--but it wavered +into shadowy vagueness. There were scores of mountains to be pushed +back and a heavy, sagging thing which he carried in his arms, to be +delivered somewhere--before it was too late. + +His mind wandered and his lips chattered crazy, fever-born things, but +to his burden he clung, with a grim survival of instinctive purpose. +Sometimes an inarticulate and stifled sound came stertorously from the +swollen lips of the weltering body that sagged across the horse's +withers--but that was all, and it failed to recall the custodian from +the nightmare shades of delirium. + +But the night was keenly edged with frost and as the plodding mount +splashed across shallow fords its hooves broke through a thin rime of +ice. That same cold touch laid its restoring influence on Turner +Stacy's pounding temples. His eyes saw and recognized the setting of +the evening star--and something lucid came back to him. To him the +evening star meant Blossom. He remembered now. He was taking a +bridegroom to the woman he loved--and the bridegroom must be delivered +alive. + +Jerking himself painfully up in his saddle, he bent his head. "Air ye +alive?" he demanded fiercely, but there was no response. He shifted his +burden a little and held his ear close. The lips were still breathing, +though with broken fitfulness. + +His fever would return, Bear Cat told himself, in intermittent waves, +and he must utilize to the full the available periods of reason. +Henderson would bleed to death unless his wounds were promptly +staunched. Liquor must be forced down his throat if he were to last to +Brother Fulkerson's house with life enough to say "I will." + +Since the dawn when Bear Cat had given his pledge to Blossom he had +always carried a flask in his pocket. He had done so in order that his +fight should be one without any sort of evasion of issues: in order +that the thirst should be met squarely and that whenever or wherever it +attacked him he would have to face and conquer it with the knowledge +that drink was at hand. + +Now he felt for that flask and found that in the melee it had been +shattered. + +Rough and almost perpendicular leagues intervened between here and +Brother Fulkerson's and there must immediately be some administration +of first aid. The instinct of second nature came to Bear Cat's aid as +he groped for his bearings. + +Over this hill, a half mile through the "roughs," unless it had been +moved of late, lay Dog Tate's blockade still. Slipping back of his +saddle, onto the flanks of his mount, Turner lowered Henderson until he +hung limp after the fashion of a meal-sack between cantle and pommel. +He himself slid experimentally to the ground, supporting himself +against the horse while he tested his legs. He could still stand--but +could he carry a man as heavy as himself? + +"A man kin do whatsoever he's obleeged ter do," he grimly told himself. +"This hyar's a task I'm plumb decreed ter finish." + +The fever had temporarily subsided. His brain felt preternaturally +clarified by the contrast, but the hinges of his knees seemed frail and +collapsible. + +He hitched the horse, and hefting the insensible man in his arms, +staggered blindly into the timber. + +Dog's place was hedged about with the discouragement of thickets as +arduous as a _cheval de frise_, but Bear Cat's feet groped along the +blind path with a surety that survived from a life of wood-craft. Once +he fell, sprawling, and it was a little while before he could conquer +the nausea of pain sufficiently to rise, gather up his weighty burden, +and stumble on again. + +"I'll hev abundant time ter lay down an' die ter-morrow," he growled +between the clamped jaws that were unconsciously biting the blood out +of his tongue. "But I've got ter endure a spell yit--I hain't quite +finished my job." + +At last he lifted his voice and called guardedly out of the thickets. +"This is Bear Cat Stacy--I'm bad wounded an' I seeks succor!" + +There was no reply, but shortly he defined a shadow stealing cautiously +toward him and Dog Tate stood close, peering through the sooty dark +with amazement welling in his eyes. + +The gorge which Dog had chosen for his nefarious enterprise was a +"master shut-in" between beetling walls of rock, fairly secure against +discovery and now both the moonshiner and his sentinel brought their +lanterns for an inquiry into this unexpected visit. + +At first mute astonishment held them. These two figures were bruised, +torn and blood-stained, almost beyond semblance to humanity. In the +yellow circlet of flare that the lantern bit out of the darkness, they +seemed gory reminders of a slaughter-house. But much of the blood that +besmeared Bear Cat Stacy had come from his weltering burden. + +"I hain't got overly much time fer speech, Dog," gasped Turner between +labored breaths. "We've got ter make Brother Fulkerson's afore we gives +out.... Strip this man an' bind up his hurts es well es ye kin.... Git +him licker, too!" + +They staunched Henderson's graver wounds with a rough but not undeft +speed, and when they had forced white liquor between his lips the +faltering heart began to beat with less tenuous hold on the frayed +fringes of life. + +"Ef he lives ter git thar hit's a God's miracle," commented Dog. He +passed the whiskey to Bear Cat, who thrust it ungraciously back as he +repeated, with dogged reiteration. "He's got ter last twell mornin'. +He's _got_ ter." + +When the prostrate figure stirred with a flicker of returning +consciousness Turner's eyes became abruptly keen and his words ran +swiftly into a current of decisiveness: + +"Dog, yore maw war a Stacy--an' yore paw was kilt from ther la'rel. I +reckon ye suspicions who caused his death?" + +A baleful light glimmered instantly into the moonshiner's pupils; the +light of a long-fostered and bitter hate. His answer was breathed +rather than spoken. + +"I reckon Kinnard Towers hired him killed.... I was a kid when he died, +but my mammy give me his handkerchief, dipped in his blood ... an' I +tuck my oath then." He paused a moment and went on more soberly: "I've +done held my hand ... because of ther truce ... but I hain't nowise +forgetful ... an' some day----" + +Bear Cat leaned forward and laid an interrupting hand on the shoulder +of the speaker, to find it trembling. + +"Hearken, Dog," he said. "Mebby yore time will come sooner then ye +reckoned. I wants thet afore sun-up ter-morrow word should go ter every +Stacy in these-hyar hills, thet I've done sent out my call, an' thet +they shell be ready ter answer hit--full-armed. I wants thet ye shall +summons all sich as ye hev ther power ter reach, ter meet fer counsel +at my dwellin'-house ter-morrow mornin' ... an' now I wants ter hev +private speech with this-hyar man--" he jerked his head toward +Henderson--"afore he gits past talkin'." + +With a nod of comprehension the moonshiner and his helper slipped out +of sight in the shadows, and kneeling at Jerry's side, Bear Cat again +raised a cup of white whiskey to his lips. + +The odor of the stuff stole seductively into his own nostrils, but he +raised his eyes and saw again the evening star, not rising but setting. + +"Blossom's star!" he groaned, then added, "Ye don't delight in me none, +little gal! Thar hain't but one thing left thet I kin do fer ye--an' I +aims ter see hit through." + +With insupportable impatience he bent, waiting for a steadier light of +consciousness to dawn in that other face. Every atom of his own will +was focused and concentrated in the effort to compel a response of +sensibility. Finally Henderson's eyes opened and the wounded man saw +close to him a face so fiercely fixed that slowly, under its tense +insistence, fragments of remembrance came driftingly and disjointedly +back to him. + +"Kin ye hear me?" demanded Bear Cat Stacy with an implacably ringing +voice. "Does ye understand me?" And the other's head moved +faintly--almost imperceptibly. + +"Then mark me clost because I reckon both of us hes got ter stand afore +many hours facin' Almighty God--an' hit don't profit us none ter mince +words." + +Through the haze of a brain still fogged and reeling, Henderson became +aware of a hatred so bitter that it dwarfed into petulance that of the +murder horde at the Quarterhouse. + +"Ye come hyar ... an' we tuck ye in." The tone rose from feebleness to +an iron steadiness as it continued. "When I come inter ther +Quarterhouse I 'lowed ye'd done turned traitor an' joined Kinnard +Towers ... but since they sought ter kill ye, mayhap I war +misguided.... Thet don't make no difference, now, nohow." He paused and +struggled for breath. + +"Ye tuck Blossom away from me ... ye made her love ye because she +hadn't never knowed ... an eddicated man afore.... All my days an' +nights I'd dreamed of her.... Ter make her happy, I'd gladly hev laid +down my life ... but I war jest a rough mounting man ... an' then she +seed _you_." + +Henderson's lips moved in a futile effort as Bear Cat halted, gasping. +His hand wavered in a weak gesture of protest--as against an unjust +charge. But Bear Cat's voice leaped suddenly. "Don't stop me! Thar +hain't much time left! You an' me needs ter go ter God's jedgment seat +with our jobs finished.... I don't censure Blossom none ... hit war es +rightful thet she should want a _real_ life ... es fer ther flowers ter +want sunshine.... But _you_! Ye stole her love--an' then abandoned +her." + +Henderson's eyes were eloquent with a denial--but the darkness hid +it--and his lips refused utterance, while the other talked on, +feebleness muting the accusing voice to a lower timbre. + +"She warn't good enough fer _you_--her thet war too good fer any man! +But perchance ye may be wiser dyin' then livin'." The weak utterance +mounted into inexorable command. + +"Now ye're a-goin' ter make good afore ye dies.... She trusted ye ... +an--" Turner broke suddenly into a deep sob of agony. "I don't know how +fur ye taxed her trust ... but I knows she told me she had full faith +in ye, an' faith like thet don't stop ter reckon up costs. Now she's +sickenin' away--an' thet trust is broke ... an' I reckon her heart's +broke, too." + +Henderson moistened his lips and with a supreme effort succeeded in +whispering almost inaudibly, "That's a lie." + +"A lie is hit? She gave ye her lips," went on the burning indictment. +"An' in these hills when a woman like Blossom gives her lips ter a man, +she gives him her soul ter keep.... Ye're a mountain man yoreself ... +ye knows full well what mountain folks holds.... Ye hain't got no +excuse of ign'rance ter hide behind. Ye knows thet withouten ye weds +her, folks will tell lies an' she won't never be able ter hold up her +head--ner smile again." + +"Stacy--" Henderson had rallied a little now, but he sagged back and at +first got no further than the name. With another struggle, he added, + +"I ... I'm dying----" + +"Mebby so. I hopes ye air ... but fust ye're a-goin' over thar with me +... an', because she'll be happier ef she thinks ye come of yore own +free will.... I hain't a-goin' ter tell her ... thet I dragged ye thar +... like a sheep-killin' dog.... Ye're a-goin' ter let her think thet +her hero has done come back ter her ... _dee_spite death hitself." + +"But--but----" + +The young mountaineer broke out with something half sob and half +muffled roar. + +"Hell, thar hain't no but! I'm tellin' ye what ye air a-goin' ter do! +With God's aid I aims ter keep ye alive thet long ... an' atter thet--I +hain't takin' no heed what comes ter pass." + +"Was ... that ... why you ... saved me?" The words were barely audible. + +"What else would hit be? Did ye reckon hit war love for ther man thet +hed done stole everything I counted dear--ther traitor thet betrayed my +roof-tree? Did ye 'low thet hit war fer yore own sake I war openin' up +ther war ergin, deespite ther fact that I knows hit'll make these hills +run red with ther blood of my kith an' kin?" + +Abruptly Bear Cat came to his feet and shouted into the darkness. +Henderson saw two figures detach themselves from the inky void and come +forward. + +Then as they lifted him he swooned with pain. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + +Dog Tate had left his mash kettle unguarded that night, putting clan +loyalty above individual interest as he hastened off to stir into +action the dwellers of the Stacy cabins, and to dispatch other +night-riders upon the same mission. But he sent Joe Sanders, his +assistant, to convoy the wounded men along their road. They went at a +labored and snail-like pace, Sanders walking on one side of the horse, +supporting the swooning figure it bore, while Turner Stacy trudged at +the other saddle skirt. Sometimes Bear Cat plodded on with fair +erectness, setting his teeth against weariness and pain, but at other +times the intermittent waves of fever rose scaldingly until, in a blind +fog, he dragged shuffling feet, clinging grimly the while to pommel and +stirrup-leather as his head sagged forward between his shoulders. +Sometimes, too, he mumbled incomprehensible things in a voice that was +weirdly unnatural. From time to time there was a halt to make sure that +the life spark still flickered, though tenuously and gutteringly, in +the breast of the inert thing lashed to the saddle. + +When they had been on the road for three hours Bear Cat and Sanders, by +a common impulse, strained their ears through what had been silence, +except for the wail of the high-riding breeze among the pine crests. + +Now faint, and far away, hardly more than a hint of sound, they could +hear something else, and it lifted Turner out of his reek of nightmare +and semi-delirium so that his eyes cleared and his head came up. It was +as though a bugle had sounded a note of martial encouragement through +the mists of despair. + +Joe Sanders spoke shortly, half to his companion and half to himself. + +"Hit kinderly seems like Dog Tate's rousin' em up. I reckon ther war's +on now all right an' it's liable ter be unshirted hell." + + * * * * * + +Blossom had been sitting until late that evening with her hands lying +listlessly in her lap and her eyes staringly fixed on the blaze of her +hearth. Their amber pools were darkened with jaded misery and her +cheeks were pale. Their graciousness of youthful curve had been +somewhat flattened, as her whole life had been flattened. Only her +hair, awakened into halo-brightness by the blaze of the logs, spoke of +that old vividness of color that had been a sort of delicate +gorgeousness and even that nimbus had the suggestion of the glow about +the head of a saint who has achieved sanctity through suffering. + +"He swore he aimed ter come back ter me right soon," she repeated to +herself. "I wouldn't have him imperil himself--but he mout have writ me +a letter." Her instinct told her what had happened with a fulness of +realization from which there was no escape. It was only because she had +pretended her Cinderella dream to be a fact, that she had not all along +recognized it for an impossible fairy tale. The Jerry Henderson who had +promised her marriage was only a temporary Jerry: a man swept off his +feet by the stress and freshet of crisis. The mountain blood in his +veins had welled up to flood tide and swept away the dams of his +superimposed cultivation. He had relapsed into her life--for a little +while--just as his ardent tongue had relapsed into her uncouth +vernacular. + +Now the more permanent Jerry, awakened by his return to city +conditions, was standing aloof, regarding that experience with +self-contemptuous regret: thinking of it as a lapse into savagery. It +had been an impetuous thing of the flesh to which his mind denied +permanent sanction. The dream was over now--but she could not forget +it. + +Her fingers twisted themselves tightly together and she rose and leaned +wearily against the mantel-shelf. As her eyes, clouded with misery, +traveled about the tidy room, its every note spoke of Bear Cat Stacy. +He had fashioned, for her comfort, all the furnishings that made it a +place different from the rooms of other mountain cabins. + +On the Pelion of her own misery she heaped the Ossa of +self-condemnation. She saw again the stricken look in Turner's eyes as +he had set out for Virginia after hearing the news that had cut the +foundation from under all his own life-dream. She remembered, too, the +gentleness with which, placing thought of her above self, he had made +his renunciation. + +"Oh, God," she murmured, "why air hit thet we kain't love best of all +ther folks thet loves us most? Turney would hev walked through ther +Valley of Death fer me--an' I've got ter break my heart fer a man thet +don't hold me good enough ter wed." + +Yet even now she was making excuses for the lover who had neither come +nor written. The first bond between Turner and herself had been their +common revolt against a life of squalid ignorance and emptiness. That +revolt had carried them into the no-man's land of discontent without +bringing them to the other side: the line of real attainment upon which +Jerry stood secure. + +Her father came once to the door, but did not enter it. His bearded +face was more soberly patriarchal than ever. He had long struggled +against violence in his efforts to shepherd a wild and turbulent flock. +He had pleaded for the Christ-law of forgiven sins, but in his veins +ran the unforgetting blood of warring generations. There had been times +of late when he had felt that he would need God's help and restraint +should he ever meet the man who had broken his daughter's heart. + +"I reckon thar hain't sca'cely nothin' I kin say ter console her," he +mused as he turned away from the door. + +At length when the fire had burned low Blossom went to bed and lay +wide-eyed for other hours. + +Through the harping wind in the evergreens sometimes came the high, +wild note of southward-winging ducks and geese--refugees from winter. +Henceforth her life was all to be winter. Neither the freshly green and +tuneful things of springtime nor the gorgeousness and fragrance of +autumn could amend or temper its lethargy. + +She had tossed until nearly dawn, and the house lay deadly quiet. If +sleep came near her it was only to veer away again for each sputter of +a dying ember brought her, with a start, into tenser wakefulness. + +Then came another sound, and her nervous little body tightened into the +dismay of panic. Unmoving, holding her breath between pressed lips, she +strained her ears. There was no mistake--she had heard it again. + +It was a wild note riding the wind, and now for the first time it +became more than a legend in her experience. From babyhood she had +heard of this night noise, long silenced by the truce, and had trembled +at its portentousness. She had from childhood heard her father thank +God that men were no more roused by it from their sleep: that it was +one accursed thing which belonged to the past. Now it had found +resurrection! + +As she lay listening it sounded once more, nearer than before, a shout +suggestive of a wild-cat's wail that quavered and rose and dwindled and +rose again. That clan-signal of the Stacys along the ridges meant +war--open and unmitigated war. + +It was not merely a demonstration of inimical feeling but a definite +summons. The man of that blood who heard it needed no particulars. He +had his orders. Straightway he must arm and rally. + +From her father's room came a deeply anguished groan and the muttering +of a prayer. He, too, had been awakened and realized that the "war" had +broken out afresh. + +It was useless to try to sleep now. Blossom rose and threw fresh fagots +on the fire. She dressed and sat with her fingers twisting and her lips +trembling. + +Once she stifled a scream at the rush of hoof-beats and the scatter of +gravel along the road, but the commotion went by in hot haste and +silence closed down again. + +Eventually an abrupt shout sounded imperatively from just beyond the +door--a voice which Blossom did not recognize, and as she came to her +feet she heard her father's stern challenge, "Who's out thar?" + +"Hit's Joe Sanders--an' I'm in haste!" + +Despite the urgency of word and tone the preacher hesitated to demand: + +"What business brings ye hyar in ther dead of night-time?" + +"I've got Bear Cat Stacy an' Mr. Henderson. They're both sore wounded. +Fer God's sake, hasten!" + +With a swiftness of motion that outstripped her father's, Blossom flung +herself forward and with feverish fingers was sliding the bar from its +sockets. + +But while the preacher stood waiting, his lips drew themselves into an +unbending line and his shaggy brows lowered. Inwardly he was praying: +"Almighty God, I beseeches Ye ter strengthen me in this hour ter +fergive mine enemies--fer Thou knowest thar's murder in my heart!" + +As the girl threw the door wide, she saw what seemed to be three +figures locked in a close embrace. + +The trio lurched rather than stepped into the lighted area, and, +shrinking back horrified, Blossom saw Brother Fulkerson close his +house, his face marked, as she had never before seen it, with a grim +unwelcome. + +Sanders carried in his arms a figure whose limbs fell in grotesque +inertia. Its clothing was torn by briars and bullets; matted with mire +and blood. Its face was half hidden by a rough bandage made from +Jerry's own handkerchief, upon which the stains had turned from red to +dull brown, except at the spots where the crimson had been renewed by +an unstaunched trickle. + +Bear Cat stumbled across the threshold unaided, but as he halted, +blinking at the light, he reeled drunkenly and propped his disheveled +body against the wall. That was for a moment only and at its end he +drew himself into something nearer uprightness and swept his hand +across his brow. He had not carried the matter this far to fail at the +finish. + +"Lay thet man on a bed," he panted with fierce earnestness. "Thar +hain't no time ter waste ... he's nigh death ... an' he's come hyar ter +be wedded." + +Brother Fulkerson answered in a voice of bewilderment, tinged, too, +with protest. + +"Thar hain't sca'cely no life in him. Hit's too late fer marryin'." + +"Not yit hit hain't ... hit will be ef ye tarries!" Turner ripped out +his words with the staccato snap of rifle fire. His own feebleness +seemed to drop away like the hat he flung to one side. His eyes burned +with tawny fire and a positive fury of haste. For hours, he felt he had +been holding death in abeyance by a sheer grapple of resolution, and +now men paused to parley and make comment. An impulse of insane wrath +besieged him. He must be obeyed--and the moments were flying--the sands +running out. + +"Hasten now--an' talk afterwards," he burst out. + +They laid Jerry on Blossom's bed, its coverings magically smoothed into +comfort by her flying hands, and Joe Sanders once more pressed his +pocket flask to the white lips. + +The girl, buoyed up, beyond her strength, by the moment's need and the +mettle of her blood, swiftly and capably eased the posture of the +wounded man, loosened his heavy boots and rushed from the room to +prepare fresh bandages. The stunning impact of despair would come +later. Now every fighting chance must be preserved to him. + +While she was still out of the room, Henderson's eyes opened in a +fluttering and precarious consciousness, to find other eyes fixed on +them with flaming intensity. + +The basilisk gaze was fabulously reputed to bring death, but Turner +Stacy was reversing its hypnotism to compel life. + +"Where--am I?" whispered Jerry; and the answer was as peremptory as +predestination. + +"Ye're at Blossom's house--ter git married--an,' by God, ye've got ter +last thet long. She's got ter believe ye come of yore own free +will--see thet she does!" + +The half-insensible eyes ranged vaguely about the place. The weak +fingers plucked absently at the coverlet, and then essayed a gesture. +The promoter seemed rallying his failing faculties for a supreme effort +though his voice was hardly audible. + +"But--Stacy--you don't--under--stand." + +Bear Cat brought his face close; a face with belligerently out-thrust +chin and fiercely narrowed eyes. Henderson must consent before Blossom +returned to divine with her quick intuition that her dying lover balked +in the shadow of death. + +"Don't explain nothin' ter me. Save yore breath ter say 'I will.' +Thet's all ye hev need ter utter now--an' hits need enough." + +In his overwrought singleness of purpose Turner forgot that this man +was beyond any force of threat or coercion. As he spoke so +dictatorially he believed himself, too, to be facing death with equal +certainty, though more slowly, and what he had sworn to do must first +be done. + +Yet there was such an inescapable compulsion in the ernest fixity of +his pale face and burning eyes that the outstretched figure felt its +own declining will merged and conquered. + +"Hit's ther only decent thing thet's left fer ye ter do," went on the +strained but inflexible voice. "Ye took her heart fer yore own--an' +broke hit. Ye've got ter let her have yore name an' ther consolation of +believin' thet ye came ter her ... honest, fightin' back black death +hitself!" + +Sometimes between sleep and waking come fugitive thoughts that seem +crystal-clear, but that elude definite memory. Such a process enacted +itself in the mind of the dying man. Doubt and complications were +dissolved into simplicity--and acquiescence. + +Faintly he nodded his head and even tried to hold out his hand to be +shaken. Perhaps Bear Cat was too excited to recognize that proffer of +amenity. Possibly his own bitterness was yet too black for +forgiveness--at all events he turned away without response to seek out +Joel Fulkerson, who had disappeared. + +"Ye've got ter hasten, Brother Fulkerson," he hurriedly urged. "Jerry +Henderson's done come back ter give his name ter Blossom afore he dies +an' death hain't far off." + +The old evangelist was bending over a medicine chest. It was a thing +which a visiting surgeon had once given him and in the use of which he +had developed an inborn skill that had before now saved lives and +ameliorated suffering. He straightened up dubiously and faced the +younger man. + +"Turney," he said grimly, "ef they don't wed, folks hyarabouts'll +always look askance at my little gal with a suspicion thet I'm +confi_dent_ is as false as hell hitself--but God made ther state of +matrimony holy--an' I'm his servant--onlessen they both enters inter +hit free-minded hit wouldn't be nothin' but a blasphemy. _Air_ they +both of one mind?" + +Turner stiffened to a ramrod straightness. His hands clenched +themselves into hard fists and his nostrils quivered. + +"Brother Fulkerson, ye're a godly man," he declared with suppressed +passion, "an' I hain't never sought ter dispute ye ner defy ye afore +now--but thar hain't no time ter argyfy. Willin'ly or unwillin'ly ye're +a-goin' ter wed them two--right hyar--an' now! He plighted his troth +ter her. He's got a mighty brief chanct ter fulfill his pledge an' +leave her thinkin' she gave her love ter a true man. He's come acrost +hyar, shot like a bob-white--jest fer thet. I've fought off death my +own self ter-night--jest fer thet! Ef God has spared both of us this +long, I reckon He done hit--jest fer thet! I'll answer ter Him at ther +jedgment-seat, ef so be I'm wrong." + +For an irresolute moment the father hesitated, then he said briefly, +"Come on." + +Turner wheeled, bracing himself for the bitterest ordeal of all. He must +be the spokesman for a rival whom he hated beyond superlatives--and +in order that Blossom might keep her dream, which was all she could now +hope to salvage out of life, he meant to tell a lie which would for all +time enshrine that detestable traitor. None the less, when he had drawn +her aside, he spoke with great gentleness, perjuring himself with +knightly self-effacement. + +He took both her hands in his own and looked with a tender +consideration into her forlorn eyes, gulping down the choke that rose +in his throat and threatened his power of speech. Though her gaze was +fixed on his face she seemed hardly to see him, so stiff and +trance-like was her posture and so tight-drawn and expressionless her +features. If he could soften that paralysis of grief it was worth a +self-sacrificing lie. + +"Blossom," he began softly, "Mr. Henderson fell inter a murder trap an' +I got thar too late ... ter fotch him out unharmed. Betwixt us we _did_ +come through, though, with ther breath still in our bodies ... an' he +made me pledge myself ter git him hyar in time ... ter wed with ye +afore he died." + +He saw the eyes widen and soften as if the tight constriction of heart +and nerve had been a little eased. Into them came even a pale hint of +serenity and pride--pride for the splendid vindication of a hero whom +she had tried to believe true and had been compelled to doubt. Even the +bleak dreariness of widowhood could not tarnish that memory: her ideal +instead of being shattered was canonized! + +"I knowed he'd prove true," she loyally declared. "Despite everything I +jest knowed hit deep down in my heart!" + +A pallid thinning of the darkness was discernible over the eastern +ridges as Brother Fulkerson, who had administered his most powerful +restoratives, thrust back his medicine chest. His face became +mysteriously grave as he joined the hands of his daughter and the man +whose fingers were limp in their enfeebled clasp. Across the quilted +four-poster stood Bear Cat Stacy, as erectly motionless as bronze. His +unblinking eyes and lips, schooled into firm stoicism, might have +suggested some young Indian brave going, set of purpose, to his +torture. The lamp flared and sputtered toward the end of its night-long +service and the fire had dwindled to an ashen desolation. + +At the foot of the bed, and depressed with a dull sense of awe, was Joe +Sanders, fingering his hat-brim and shifting his weight from foot to +foot. + +The old preacher of the hills, ordained in no recognized school of +divinity, had for this occasion put aside the simple formula that the +mountains knew and substituted for it such fragments as he remembered +from the Church of England's more stately ritual. It was a service that +he had heard infrequently and long ago, but it had stirred him with its +solemn beauty and God would forgive any unmeant distortions since the +intent was reverent. + +"Dearly Beloved, we're gathered together hyar in ther sight of God +A'mighty an' in the face of this hyar company ... to j'ine tergither +this-hyar man an' this-hyar woman." There exact memory failed him and +his voice broke in a pathetic quaver. Bear Cat Stacy bit his tongue +until he could taste the blood in his mouth as he held his gaze rigidly +fixed above the heads of the little group. God alone knew how bitter +were the broken dreams in his heart, just then. + +"I require an' charge ye both, as ye will answer at ther dreadful day +of jedgment--" the holy words were still illusive and memory +tricky--"thet ef either one of ye knows any--any--cause why ye kain't +rightfully be j'ined tergither in matrimony ... ye do now confess hit." + +The pause which ensued lay upon the small company with oppressive +weight. Joe Sanders coughed and nervously cleared his throat. + +"Wilt thou have this-hyar woman fer thy wedded wife? Wilt thou love +her, comfort her an' keep her in sickness an' in health?" + +For a moment there was dead and unresponsive silence. A cold fear smote +upon them all that death had intervened. Then Bear Cat, bringing his +eyes back from their fixity, bent abruptly; so abruptly that his +movement seemed a thing of violent threat. + +"Don't ye hear?" he demanded in a strained whisper. "Speak whilst +thar's breath left. Say 'I will.' Say hit speedily!" + +Recalled by that sharp challenge out of his sinking consciousness, +Jerry Henderson stirred and murmured faintly, "I will." + +"Wilt thou have this-hyar man fer thy wedded husband ter serve, honor +an' obey----" + +But before the interrogation came to its period Blossom Fulkerson broke +in with a prideful and willing avowal, "I will! I will!" + +Turner Stacy felt icy moisture on his temples. His world seemed rocking +as he stood straight again with wooden immobility. + +"I pronounces ye man an' wife." + +Bear Cat turned away, walking with the stiff fashion of an automaton. +He could feel a stringent tightness like paralysis at his heart--and +his limbs seemed unresponsive and heavy. Then to his ears came, on the +morning breeze, that same call to arms that had stiffened Blossom into +a paralysis of fear. His cramped posture relaxed, and to himself he +said, "I reckon I hain't quite through yit!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + +Blossom still knelt at the bedside with eyes of absorbed suffering and +fingers that strayed flutteringly toward the bandaged head. + +Bear Cat, with his hand on the latch, lingered at the door, held there +by a spell which he seemed powerless to combat. His part here was +played out and to remain longer was an intrusion--yet he seemed unable +to go. The kneeling girl was not even conscious of his presence. For +her there was no world except that little one bounded by the sides and +the end of the bed upon which her lover lay dying. Her hands clasped +themselves at last and her face buried itself in the coverings. She was +praying. + +Bear Cat saw the glimmer of the firelight on her hair and to him it was +all the lost gold of his dreams. He caught the sweet graciousness of +her lissome curves, and his own fingers clutched at the shirt which had +become stiff with dried blood. Once she had prayed for him, he +remembered--but that was before her real power of loving had burned to +its fulness. Now he stood there forgotten. + +He did not blame her for that forgetfulness. It only demonstrated the +singleness of devotion of which she was capable; the dedication of +heart which he had once hoped would be lavished on himself. + +He, too, was so centered on one yearning that he was beyond the +realization of lesser matters, so that the gaunt preacher came within +arm's length unnoticed and laid a hand on his shoulder. Brother +Fulkerson nodded toward the other room, and Turner followed him with +the dumb and perfunctory abstraction of a sleep-walker. + +"Now, son, ef hit hain't too late ter avail, let's hev a look at yore +own hurts. Ye didn't come through totally unscathed yore own self." + +Bear Cat stood apathetically and his eyes turned hungrily toward the +stout partition of logs beyond which knelt the girl. It was not until +the older man had spoken the second time that he replied with a flat +tonelessness of voice, "My worst hurts ... hain't none ... thet ye kin +aid." + +"Thet's what I aims ter find out." Joel Fulkerson's manner was brisk +and authoritative. "Strip off yore coat an' shirt." + +Indifferently Bear Cat obeyed. Several times his lips moved without +sound, while the other pressed investigating fingers over the +splendidly sinewed torso and bathed away the dried blood. + +"Hit looks p'intedly like ye've been seekin' ter prove them fruitless +stories thet bullets kain't kill ye," observed the preacher at the end +of his inspection, speaking with a somber humor. "Ye've done been shot +right nigh yore heart, an' ther bullet jest glanced round a rib without +penetratin'. Ye've done suffered wounds enough ter kill a half-dozen +ord'nary humans--an' beyond wastin' a heap of blood ye don't seem much +injured." + +"I wisht," declared the young man bitterly, "ye'd done told me thet I +was about ter lay down an' die. Thet's all I'm longin' fer now." + +For some moments they were silent; then Joel Fulkerson's grave pupils +flickered and a hint of quaver stole into his voice. + +"Son, I've done spent my life in God's sarvice--unworthily yet plumb +earnest, too, an' thar's been times a-plenty when hit almost looked ter +me like He'd turned aside His face in wrath fer ther unregenerate sin +of these-hyar hills. I've hed my big dreams, too, Turner ... an' I've +seed 'em fail. Oftentimes, despairin' of ther heathenism of ther +growed-ups, I've sot my hopes on ther comin' generation. If ther +children could be given a new pattern of life ther whole system mout +come ter betterment." + +The young man had been putting on again his discarded shirt and coat, +but his hands moved with the fumbling and apathetic motions of a +sleep-walker. His face, turned always toward that room beyond the wall, +was set in a dull immobility, yet he heard what the elder man was +saying, and listened with the impatience of one whose thoughts are in +travail, and whose interest for abstractions is dead. The preacher +recognized this, but with a resolute effort he continued. "When _you_ +war a leetle shaver I seed in yore eyes thet ye hed dreams above +sordidness.... Oft-times when I watched ye gazin' off acrost the most +distant ridges I 'lowed that God hed breathed a wonderful gift inter ye +... ther ability ter dream an' make them dreams come true. I seed thet +ye hed _power_, power thet mout do great good or make yore name a +terror ter mankind, dependin' on which way ye turned hit." An agonized +groan came brokenly from the twisted lips. Bear Cat dropped into a +chair and covered his eyes with trembling palms. He had faced his +enemies without flinching, but after the cumulative forms of torture +through which he had passed to-night, his stoicism threatened to break +under the kind intentions of a talkative friend. + +Still the evangelist went on: "I had visions of a new type of mountain +folks--some day ... when boys like you an' gals like Blossom grew +up--and wedded. Folks with all the honesty an' generosity we've got +now--but with ther black hate an' suspicion gone--. Ay--an' ther cause +of hit gone, too,--ther blockade stills." + +Turner's nails bit into his temples as if with an effort to hold the +fugitive reason in his bursting head, as the words assaulted his ears. + +"I've set hyar afore my fire many's ther night, a-dreamin' of some day +when there'd be a grandchild on my knee ... yore child an' Blossom's +... a baby thet would be trained up right." + +Suddenly Turner's silence of apathy broke and he fell to trembling, +while his eyes flared wildly. "In God's name why does ye have ter taunt +me in this hour with reminders of all thet I've lived fer an' lost? +Does ye reckon I kin ever fergit hit?" He broke off, then went on again +with panting vehemence. "I hain't never had no dream but what was jest +a part of _thet_ dream. + +"Why I've stood up thar on ther ridges in ther spring when ther face of +God's earth war so beautiful thet I've wondered ef His heaven could be +much better--an' thet's ther sperit of ther hills thet Blossom stood +fer ter me." The shaking voice gathered volume and passion. "I've seed +ther bleak misery of winter strangle all but ther breath of life +hitself outen folks thet lives hyar--an' thet's what this country means +ter me without Blossom! Folks knows how ter hate up hyar, but jest now, +somehow, I feels thet no man in all these God-forsaken mountings kin +hate life an' humanity like I hates 'em!" + +Joel Fulkerson responded soberly though without reproof: "Yore man +Lincoln could go right on when things was turrible black. When his own +ends failed he still went on--fer others. He didn't give way ter hate. +He could go on tell he give his life hitself--fer dreams of betterin' +things thet needed betterment, an' he come from ther same blood as us." + +"Wharfore in God's name does ye stand thar preachin' at me?" The young +man's reaction from stunned torpor to passion had brought with it +something like the fever of madness. + +"Ye knows I holds with ye es ter schools--an' all fashion of +betterment--but what's them things ter me now? What I wants in this +hour is ter visit on ther man thet's ruint my life ther direst +punishment thet kin be meted out--an' he's cheatin' me by a-dyin'. +Listen--" He broke off and bent his head toward the wall of Blossom's +room and his voice took on a queer, almost maniacal note. "Kain't ye +heer her--in thar--groanin' out her heart! Let me git outen hyar.... I +kain't endure hit.... I'm liable ter do even _you_ an injury ef I +stays--albeit I loves ye!" + +"I hates thet man in thar, too, Turner." The preacher laid a +restraining hand on his companion's taut arm and sought to soothe the +frenzy of wrath with the cool steadiness of his tone. "I've had need +ter pray fer strength against thet hate--but I've heered ther Stacy +rallyin' cry ter-night an' we've got ter hev speech." + +"Speech hain't ergoin' ter mollify me. What I wants is ter hev ther +things I've suffered this night paid fer. Hit's all _got_ ter be paid +fer!" The inheritor of feudal instincts wheeled and burst from the +room, the preacher following more slowly but still determined. + +Outside Turner halted. The ordeal through which he had passed had left +him shaken in a frenzy of passion, and he stood looking about him with +the gaze of a wild beast fretting under the feral urge of blood-lust. +With a clan easily inflamed and gathering to his call, Brother +Fulkerson realized the danger of that mood. Its menace must be met and +stemmed before it ran to a flood-tide of homicidal violence. + +The preacher came close and spoke quietly. + +"I don't know yit what tuck place ter night--over yon," he said. "I +only knows I've heered acrost ther hills a sound I'd prayed I mout +never hear ergin--ther cry of ther Stacys rallyin' fer battle. Ye've +got power, son--power beyond ther common. What air ye goin' ter do with +hit? Air ye a-goin' ter fergit yore dreams, because ther future's black +afore ye? Or air ye goin' ter be big enough, since ye're denied +children of yore own, ter make them dreams come true fer ther benefit +of other men's children?" + +Bear Cat Stacy's voice as he answered was gratingly hard and his eyes +were unyielding. + +"I don't know yit," he savagely announced. "I don't know yit fer sure +whose a-goin' ter need punishment, but I've called on my kinsmen ter +gather--an' when I knows the truth we'll be ready to deal hit out full +measure." + +"Ther days of feuds is past, son. Fer God's sake don't be ther +backwardest man in all this evil-ridden country--you thet should be the +forwardest." + +But Bear Cat's hands, clenched into fists, were raised high above his +head. + +"My paw's in jail," he ripped out. "I hed ter go over thar ter hide out +in Virginny. Ef them things hadn't come ter pass mebby I mout hev saved +Blossom from her tribulation." Suddenly he fell silent. In the dim +light the preacher saw his face alter to the ugly set of a gargoyle and +his body come to such sudden rigidity as paralysis might have brought. + +"God Almighty in heaven!" Turner exclaimed, then his words come racing +in a torrent of frenzy. "I war a damn' fool not ter hev seed hit afore! +Why air my paw in jail? Why did Kinnard Towers counsel me ter go ter +Virginny an' hide out? Hit war because he war plannin' ter murder Jerry +Henderson--an' he didn't dast do hit with us hyar! I knows now who +needs killin' an' so holp me God, I hain't a goin' ter lay down ner +sleep, ever again, until I kills him!" The eyes burned madly; the +figure shook and he would have rushed off at the moment had not the +preacher caught his arms and held them doggedly even though the +infuriated young giant tossed him about in his efforts to free himself. +Yet for all his thinness and age, Joel Fulkerson had power in his +frame--and an unshakeable determination in his heart. + +"Listen ter me," he pleaded. "I won't keep ye hyar long--an' ef ye +don't listen now, ye won't never forgive yoreself hereafter.... Ye +hain't got no cause ter misdoubt my loyalty.... I hain't never asked a +favor of ye afore." + +At any other time Turner would have acquiesced without debate and in a +spirit of fairness, but now he was driven by all the furies of his +blood. He had been through the icy chill of dull despair and then +plunged into the blast furnace of red wrath. Upon some guilty agency +reprisal must be wreaked--and as if with a revelation, he thought he +saw the origin of the conspiracy which his father had long ago +suspected. + +He saw it so late because until now his mind had been too focused on +effects to hark back to causes, and now that he did see it, unless he +could be curbed, he would run amuck with the recklessness of a Mad +Mullah. + +"Let me go, damn ye," the young man almost shrieked as he tore himself +loose from the restraining grasp, and flung the old preacher spinning +to the side so that he fell to his knees, shaken. He clambered up +slowly with a thin trickle of blood on his lips, where his teeth had +cut them in the fall. + +"Thet war a pity, Bear Cat," he said in a queer voice, though still +unangered, wiping his mouth with his bony hand. "I'd thought thet we +two--with a common sorrow between us----" There he broke off, and the +boy stood for a breathing space, panting and smoldering. He could not +come back to cold sanity at one step because he had been too far shaken +from his balance--but as he watched the gray-haired man, to whom he had +always looked up with veneration and love, standing there, hurt to the +quick, and realized that upon that man he had laid violent hands, the +crazy fire in his arteries began to cool into an unutterable +mortification. + +Since the cattle trader's story had been told back in the Virginia +cabin, until this moment, his mind had been successively scorched with +wrath, chilled in despair and buffeted by hurricane violence, but never +had it for a tranquil instant been stilled to normality. Over at the +Quarterhouse, when in Berserker rage he had been lashing out through a +red mist of battle, he had suffered less than since, because in action +he was spending the hoarded accumulation of wrath--but since then he +had been in the pits of an unbearable hell. + +Now at the sight of that unresenting figure, wiping the blood from its +lip, a new emotion swept him with a flood of chagrin and self-contempt. +He had struck down a friend, defenseless and old, who had sought only +to give true counsel. The stubborn spirit that had upheld him as he +fought his fever-scalded way over the hills, and remained with him as +he watched the wedding ceremony, broke; and with face hidden behind +spread palms and a body racked by a spasm of collapse, he shook with +dry sobs that come in wrenching incoherence from deep in his chest. + +He reeled and rocked on his feet under the tempest of tearless +weeping--and like a blind man staggered back and forth, until the +preacher, with a hand on each shoulder, had soothed him, as a child is +soothed. At last he found the power of speech. + +"Fer God's sake, Brother Fulkerson, fergive me ... ef ye kin.... I +don't know what I'm doin'.... I'm seein' red." Again his voice vaulted +into choleric transports. "Ye says I mustn't call ther Stacys ter +bloodshed. Ye're right. Hit's my own private job--an' I'm goin' back +thar ter kill him--now! But es fer _you_, I wouldn't hev treated ye +with sich disrespect fer no cause in ther world--ef I hadn't been +well-nigh crazed." + +"Son, I forgives ye full free ... but ye jest suspicions these other +matters. Ye hain't dead sure--and ye hain't ther man ter go out killin' +without ye _air_ plumb sartain.... Now will ye set down an' give me +leave ter talk a spell?" + +The boy dropped upon the edge of the porch and jerked with a palsy of +wretchedness, and as he sat the old preacher pleaded. + +For a while Bear Cat's attention was perfunctory. He listened because +he had promised to listen, but as the evangelist swept on with an +earnestness that gave a fire of eloquence to his uncouth words, his +congregation of one was heeding him because of the compulsion of +interest. He saw a bigger enemy and one more worthy of his warfare +behind the malign individual who was, after all, only its figure-head +and coefficient. + +"Ef them ye loves hed been struck ter death by a rattlesnake--and hit +war feasible fer ye, 'stid of jest killin' ther snake, ter put an end +ter ther pizen hitself--fer all time--would ye waste strength on a +single sarpent?" The eyes of the speaker were glowing with ardor. "Men +like Kinnard air snakes thet couldn't do no harm save fer ther pizen of +ther copper worms. Hit's because they pertects them worms thet ther +lawless stands behind sich men--an' ther law-abidin' fears 'em. Wipe +out ther curse itself--an' ye wipes out ther whole system of meanness +an' murder." He paused, and for the first time since his outburst Bear +Cat spoke soberly. + +"Over thar--at ther Quarterhouse--whar they sought ter git +Henderson--they warn't nothin' but a yelpin' pack of mad dogs--all +fired ter murder with white licker." + +Brother Fulkerson nodded. + +"I said ye hed power, an' I don't want ter see ye misuse hit. + +"Ye asked me a spell back why I pestered ye with talk about betterment +in this hour of yore affliction. Hit's because I wants ye ter go on +fightin' fer thet dream--even ef hit's denied ye ter profit by hit. I +wants thet jest now with ther Stacys gatherin' in from back of beyond, +ye starts out leadin' 'em rightfully 'stid of wrongfully--fer whichever +way ye leads, ye'll go far." + +Bear Cat Stacy rose from his seat. His chest still heaved, but his eyes +were aflame with a fire no longer baleful. In them was the thrilling +blaze of far-reaching vision. For a time he stood silent, then he +thrust out his hand. + +"Brother Fulkerson, I've done been right close ter hell's edge +ter-night--but ye've brought me out. I hevn't put by my resolve ter +punish murder--if I can prove hit--but I've put by punishin' hit with +more murder. I aims ter make an end of blockadin'." + +"Praise God," murmured Brother Fulkerson with the glowing face of an +old and wearied prophet who sees a younger and mightier rise before +him. Yet because his own long labors had taken heavy toll of weariness, +he knew the ashes of despair as well as the flame of ardor. Now he +found himself arguing the insurmountable difficulties. "But how does ye +aim ter persuade men ter forego blockadin'? Yore own kinfolks air +amongst 'em." + +Bear Cat's excitement of resolve brought a tremor to his voice. + +"By God, I don't aim ter persuade 'em over-much. I aims ter force 'em. +I aims ter rip out every still this side of Cedar Mounting--Stacys' and +Towers' alike, an' I don't aim ter sneak up on 'em, but ter march open +about ther business!" + +It was to a campaign of persuasion, rather than abrupt coercion, that +the preacher had sought to guide his convert, and at this announcement +of audacious purpose he shook his head, and the hopefulness faded from +his pupils. + +"The system hes hits roots set deep in ancient toleration, an' hooked +under ther rocks themselves. Afore ye alters hit by fo'ce, ye've got +ter shake, ter the bottom-most ledges, hills thet hain't never been +shuck afore." + +But Bear Cat Stacy had within the hour become the crusader in spirit, +hot with a new-born purpose, and it would have been as possible to send +molten lava traveling uphill to go tamely back again into its bursted +crater, as to shake his purpose. He was in eruption. + +"I knows thet, but I aims ter blast out the bed-rock hitself an' build +hit up anew. + +"Hit seems ter me right now es ef I kin see ther picture of this land +in y'ars ter come. I kin see men walkin' with thar heads high an' thar +gaze cl'ar--'stid of reelin' in thar saddles an' scowlin' hate outen +drunken eyes. I kin see sich schools es Jerry Henderson named ter me in +other valleys an' coves. + +"Ye says hit hain't a-goin' ter be easy, but I tells ye more then +thet--hit's goin' ter be jest one mite short of impossible--an' +none-the-less I'm a-goin' ter do hit. I'm a-goin' ter lay ther +foundations fer a peace thet kin endure. I reckon folks'll laugh at 'em +fust, an' then mark me down fer death, but I means ter prevail afore I +quits--an' I'm beholden ter ye fer p'intin' me ther way." + +The preacher clasped his hands in a nervous uncertainty. The transition +from night to the twilight of the day's beginning had passed through +its most ghostly vagueness to a fog-wrapped morning. A dour veil of +gray and sodden mists trailed along the slopes with that chill that +strikes at the heart and quenches the spirit in depression. + +Joel Fulkerson stood, gray, too, and colorless. + +"I don't hardly know how ter counsel ye, son," he said, and his voice +was that of a man whose burden of weariness was crushing him. + +"Ye aims ter do a thing thet hain't nuver been successfully undertook +afore. Ef ye seeks ter fo'ce men 'stid of persuadin' 'em--ye're mighty +liable ter fail--and cause ther valleys ter run red." + +Bear Cat's lips twisted themselves into a smile ironically mirthless. + +"Brother Fulkerson," he said, "in thar--ye kin almost hear her moanin' +now--is ther gal thet I've always loved. Ter me ther ground she walks +on is holy--ther air she breathes is ther only air I kin breathe +without tormint ... ter-night I fotched hyar ther man thet my heart was +clamorin' ter kill: fotched him hyar ter wed with her." As he paused +Turner's face twitched painfully. + +"Ye says I mustn't undertake this job in no spirit of vengeance. Thar +hain't no other fashion I _kin_ undertake hit. I must needs throw +myself inter this warfare with all ther hate--an' all ther love thet's +in my blood. I hain't a-goin' ter try ter gentle iniquity--I'm goin' +ter strive ter tromp hit underfoot." + +When Bear Cat was joined by Joe Sanders a few minutes later, the ridges +were still grim and unrelieved heaps of ragged gray. The sky was +lowering and vague, and the face of the sun pale and sullen. + +Joe, too, in that depressing dimness looked like a churlish ghost, and +as the pair stood silently in the road they saw a trio of horsemen +approaching and recognized at their head Dog Tate, mud-splashed and +astride a horse that limped stiffly with weariness. + +Dog slid from his saddle, and reported briefly. + +"Ther boys air a-comin' in from ther branch waters an' ther furthermost +coves. I've done started a tide of men flowin' ter-night." + +"I'm beholden ter ye. I reckon we'd all better fare over ter my house +and make ready ter meet 'em thar." + +Tate leaned forward and gripped Bear Cat's arm. + +"I've done warned everybody thet our folks must come in quiet. I 'lowed +ye'd want ter hold counsel afore any man fired a shot--but--" He paused +and looked furtively about him, then lowered his voice. "But thar's a +thing comin' ter pass thet don't pleasure me none. Kinnard Towers air +a-ridin' over hyar ter hev speech with ye--an' ef ye jest says ther +word--thar hain't no need of his ever gittin' hyar." + +"Kinnard Towers!" For an instant an astonished and renewed anger flared +in Bear Cat's pupils, and the face of the other man blackened with the +malevolence of a grudge long nursed and long festering in repression. + +"Kinnard Towers," repeated Dog Tate, vindictively mouthing the name. +"He's hired more men killed then he's got teeth in his jaws. He's raked +hell itself, stirrin' tribulation fer yore people an' mine--an' I've +done took my oath. Jest es soon es things start poppin' he's my man ter +kill!" + +Abruptly Tate fell to trembling. His face became a thing of ash and +flint. From his pocket he drew a small package folded in newspaper, +which he unwrapped and held out, displaying an old and very soiled +handkerchief, spotted with dark discolorations. A shrill note sharpened +his voice as he spoke in vehement haste. + +"Thar hit air! Thet's my daddy's 'kerchief--an' thet spot air ther +blood thet was spilled outen his heart--by a bullet Kinnard Towers +caused ter be fired! Seems like I kin see him a-lyin' thar now, sort of +gaspin' an' tryin' ter say somethin' ter me, thet he didn't never +succeed in utterin' afore he died! I wasn't hardly more'n a baby them +days an' when I come ter manhood they'd done made a truce an' yore paw +'lowed thet hit bound me. But now!" The man's excited tones cracked +like a mule-whip. "Now ef ther truce air ended, hit's my right ter hev +ther fust chance." + +Slowly, with a comprehending sympathy but a firm resolution, Stacy +shook his head. + +"Ye've got ter be as heedful an' patient es ye bade ther others be. +I've got a right-sensible hankerin' atter vengeance myself to-day, +Dog--but I've got ter hold my hand for a spell yit, an' ye've got ter +give me yore solemn pledge ter hold your'n, too. Hit mustn't be said +thet ef any man--even Kinnard--trusts us enough ter ride inter our +midst when we're gathered, he kain't be heered in safety." + +The messenger stood looking down at the grewsome souvenir of the +tragedy which he believed left him a debtor with an unpaid score. Clan +obedience and individual lust for reprisal shook him in profound +dilemma, but finally, with a strong effort, he nodded his head--though +grudgingly. + +"I gives ye my hand," he said in a dull voice, and up to them at that +moment rode a spattered horseman who, because of Towers' relationship +and marriage with a Stacy wife, was qualified as a neutral. + +"I brings tidin's from Kinnard Towers," he announced. "He seeks ter +hold a parley with ye. He comes in peace, an' he wants yore pledge thet +he kin fare hither without harm." + +Turner's jaw came out with a belligerent set, but he answered slowly. +"I was over at his place last night an' he didn't hardly hold _me_ +harmless. None-the-less, tell him ter come on. I'll send back a few of +my kinfolks with ye ter safeguard him along ther way." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + + +Luke Towers, the father of Kinnard, had been one of those fierce and +humorless old feudists of primal animosities and exploits as engagingly +bold as the feats of moss-trooping barons. The "Stacy-Towers" war had +broken into eruption in his day. No man remembered to just what origin +it was traceable--but it had, from its forgotten cause, flared, +guttered, smoldered and flared again until its toll of lives had +reached a scattering summary enumerated in scores and its record had +included some sanguinary highlights of pitched battle. The state +government had sought to regulate its bloodier phases with the +impressive lesson of troops and Gatling guns, but that had been very +much like scourging tempestuous seas with rods. + +Courts sat and charged panels, with a fine ironic mask of solemnity. +Grand juries were sworn and listened with an equal mockery of owlish +dignity. Deputies rode forth and returned with unserved subpoenas. +Prosecutions collapsed, since no law unbacked by public sanction in its +own jurisdiction can prevail. Stacys and Towers, alike fierce in +private quarrel and jealous of their right of personal settlement, +became blankly ignorant in the witness chair; welded by their very +animosities into a common cause against judge and jury. + +There had been, among that generation of Stacys, no such outstanding +figure as old Mark Towers, the indomitable lion of the hills. Kinnard +had followed Mark, bringing to the succession no such picturesque +savagery--but still a bold spirit, tempered by craft. In lieu of the +sledge blow he favored the smiling face with the dirk unsheathed behind +his back. Times were altering and to him mere leadership meant less +than enough. He was also covetous of wealth, in a land of meagerness. +To clan loyalty as an abstract principle he must have added such +obedience as comes only from fear--and men must know that to thwart him +was dangerous. Upon that principle, he had built his dominance until +men shaped even their court testimony to the pattern of his +requirements. At first the Stacy clan had challenged his autocracy, but +twenty years before, the truce had been made and, since no Stacy leader +had arisen of sufficient caliber to wrest from him the ascendency of +his guile and bold wits, he had triumphed and fattened in material +wealth. + +The farm that he had "heired" from his father, with its few fallow +acres of river bottom, had spread gradually but graciously into +something like a domain. + +He might now have moved his household to a smoother land and basked in +the security of fair affluence--but an invisible bond chains the +mountain-born to mountain environment. Highland nostrils shut +themselves against lowland air. Highland lips spit out as flat and +stale that water which does not gush from the source of living brooks. + +There were enemies here who hungered for his life--a contingency which +he faced with open-eyed realization--enemies actuated by grievances +apart from feud cleavage. Three attempts upon his life, he had already +survived. Some day he would not escape. But that eventuality was more +welcome, despite its endless threat, than an ease that carried with it +surrender of his rude ascendency and the strong intoxication of petty +might. + +For several years now he had been hearing tales of a Stacy youth who +bore the ear-marks of leadership, and from whom, some day, he might +expect a challenge of power. If such a test came, he must combat a +younger and fierier adversary when his own prime had passed. + +Elsewhere in the hills waves of transition were encroaching on the old +order of lethargic ignorance. The hermit blindfold was being loosened +from eager eyes--and men like himself were being recognized and +overthrown. So far the rock-built ridges of Cedar Mountain had been a +reef, protecting his own locality--but the advent of Jerry Henderson +had bespoken the imminence of a mounting tide--and whispered the +warning of deluge. + +The elimination of Jerry had seemed imperative, but the result promised +disaster--since the wounding of Bear Cat had threatened the +wrath-glutting of the Stacys. + +There was only one method of discounting that danger. Bear Cat had come +single-handed to his stronghold--he must now go single-handed, or +escorted only by his customary body-guard, into the heart of Stacy +territory, disavowing responsibility for the attack. He must, by that +convincingly reckless device, appear to demonstrate that he trusted +himself among them and expected in turn to be trusted by them. + +He hoped with a fair degree of confidence that Jerry Henderson had not +reached the minister's alive--or that at all events he had not been +able to talk with a revealing fluency. + +So the guileful old wolf had set out to ride boldly through an aroused +and hostile country, facing a score of parlous contingencies. + +As he rode, he heard the rallying cry and its full portent in no wise +escaped his just appraisal. It caused him to spur on faster, however, +for the ugliness of the situation made it the more imperative that he +should reach Lone Stacy's house in time to present himself as an ally +before he was sought out as an enemy. + +But when he had sent his message ahead by a neutral bearer, Kinnard +Towers slowed down and watched the stream of horsemen that flowed past +him: all men with scowling eyes responding to the cry which meant war: +all men who passed without attack, only because, as yet, the summons +had not been explained. + +"By ther godlings!" muttered the Towers chieftain, with a bitter humor, +"I didn't know thar was sich a passel o' Stacys in ther world. They'll +stand a heap of thinnin' out!" + +"An' as shore es hell's hot," growled Black Tom Carmichael with a dark +pessimism brooding in his eyes, "they'll _do_ right-smart thinnin' out +their own selves--once they gits stirred up." + + * * * * * + +By the time the sun had fully dissipated the early mists, the door yard +of Lone Stacy's house was dotted with little groups of men, and from +the wide doors of the barn more faces looked expectantly out. Along the +sandy creek-bed of the road, where a flock of geese waddled and hissed, +other arrivals stamped their feet against the cold of the +frost-stiffened mud, and rammed chapped hands into trouser pockets. + +They talked little, but waited with an enduring patience. They were +determined men, raggedly clothed and bearded; incurious of gaze and +uncommunicative of speech--but armed and purposeful. They were men who +had left their beds to respond to the call of their clan. + +Slowly Bear Cat circulated among the motley crowd, exchanging +greetings, but holding his counsel until the tide of arrivals should +end. It was a tatterdemalion array that he had conjured into conclave +with his skittering whoop along the hill-tops. There were lads in jeans +and veterans in long-tailed coats, green of seam and fringed of cuff. +They carried rifles of all descriptions from modern repeaters to +antiquated squirrel guns, but, in the bond of unshrinking stalwartness, +they were uniform. + +To hold such a headstrong army--mightily leaning toward violence--in +leash needed a firm hand, and an unbending will. Old fires were +kindling in them, ignited by the cry that had been a match set to +tinder and gunpowder. + +It was, all in all, a parlous time, but no one caught any riffle of +doubt in Turner Stacy's self-confident authority as he passed from +group to group, explaining the vital need of forbearant control until +Kinnard Towers had come, spoken and departed. The Stacy honor was at +stake and must be upheld. His morning hurricane of passion had left him +alertly cool and self-possessed--but there was battle-light in his +eyes. + +In grim expectancy they waited, while nerves tightened under the heavy +burden of suspense. Turner had sternly commanded cold sobriety, and the +elders had sought to enforce it, but here and there in hidden places +the more light-headed passed flasks from hand to hand and from mouth to +mouth. + +Such was the crowd into which Kinnard Towers eventually rode, with his +double body-guard, and even his tough-fibred spirit must have +acknowledged an inward qualm of trepidation, though he nodded with a +suave ease of bearing as he swung himself from his saddle at the gate. + +The urbane blue eyes under the straw-yellow brows were not unseeing, +nor were they lacking in a just power of estimate. They noted the +thunder-cloud quiet--and did not like it, but, after all, they had not +expected to like it. + +As Bear Cat came forward the Towers chieftain began unctuously. "How +air Mr. Henderson? Air he still alive?" + +"He war last time I heered," was the curt reply. + +Towers nodded with the air of one whose grave anxiety has been allayed, +but under the meditative quality of his Sabbath calm he was wishing +that he could learn, without asking, whether Jerry had been able to +talk. A great deal depended on that--but making the best of affairs as +he found them, he broached his mission. + +"This hyar trouble came up in my place--an' hit's made me mighty +sore-hearted," he avowed. "But I've got ther names of every man thet +war thar when I come in--an' I rid over hyar ter proffer ye my aid in +runnin' down ther matter and punishin' them thet's guilty." He paused, +and feeling the unmasked distrust with which his assurance was greeted, +added: + +"I reckon yore father's son wouldn't hardly want no _illegal_ +punishment." + +Bear Cat declined to meet diplomacy in kind. + +"Ye reckons thet my father's son aims ter stand out fer a truce thet's +kept on one side an' broke on ther t'other. Air thet what ye means?" + +Kinnard Towers felt his cheek-bones grow red and hot with anger at the +taunt, but he blunted the edge of acerbity and parried in sober +dignity. + +"Ef I'd aimed ter bust ther truce I wouldn't hardly hev interfered ter +save ye, fust in Marlin Town and then ergin last night. I rid over hyar +with ther roads full of Stacys ter hold counsel with ye. I aimed ter +tell ye all I knowed and find out what _you_ knowed, so thet betwixt us +we could sift this matter ter ther bottom." + +"Whatever ye've got ter say ter me, ye kin say ter these men, too," was +the tartly unconciliating reply. "I've pledged ye safety twell ye rides +back home. I aims ter say some things myself--an' I reckon most of 'em +won't pleasure ye none." The speaker's eyes flared as he added, "But +from this day forwards either you or me air goin' ter run things in +these hills an' ther t'other one of us won't hardly hev standin' room +left." + +"I reckon," said Kinnard Towers,--and now the ingratiating quality that +had sugar-coated his address dissolved into frank enmity,--"I reckon ef +thet's ther road ye elects ter travel, thar hain't scarcely any avail +in my tarryin' hyar. I mout es well say farewell an' tell hell with ye! +Yore paw wouldn't hardly be so malicious an' stiff-necked. Ye don't +need ter be told thet I've got numerous enemies hyar in these +mountings, too--an' thet more'n once they've marked me down fer death." + +The younger man's attitude was that of unmasked distrust, yet of +patience to listen to the end. Kinnard Towers, hirer of assassins +though he was, spoke with a certain dignity that savored of sound +logic. "Moreover, ye knows right well thet when I rid over hyar with +yore war-whoop skitterin' from hill-top ter hill-top, an' yore men +trapesin' along highways an' through ther timber trails, I traveled, in +a manner of speakin', with my neck in a halter. I was willin' ter risk +ther shot from the la'rel because, in a fashion, you an' me holds ther +lives an' ther welfare of our people in ther hollers of our hands. I +fared hither seekin' peace; aimin' ter stand side by side with ye in +huntin' down ther men thet sought ter murder you an' yore friend from +down below." + +A crimson flush mantled on the full jowl and bull-like neck. The voice +shook with antagonism. "But I didn't come over hyar ter _sue_ fer +peace--an' the day hain't dawned yit when any man kin order me ter +leave ther mountings whar I belongs." + +"By God in heaven!" Bear Cat Stacy leaned forward and his words cracked +like flame in green wood. "Ye says ye stands fer law--an' ye' makes +slaves of ther men thet runs ther co'tes of law! Ye says ye stands fer +ther people an' ye fosters thar ign'rance and denies 'em roads an' +schools. Ye sacrifices everything fer yore own gain--an' ther profit of +yore boot-lickers thet seeks ter run blockade stills. Wa'al ef thet's +law, I'm goin' ter start ter-day makin' war on ther law. I'm goin' ter +see what an outlaw kin do! I aims ter give thet message to them thet's +gathered hyar this afternoon--an' as soon as I'm done talkin' I'm goin' +ter commence actin'. Atter ter-day thar'll be decent Towerses alongside +of me and worthless Stacys 'longside of _you_!" His voice fell--then +leaped again to passion. "I reckon ther time's ripe. Let's go now an' +talk with 'em. I've jest been a-waitin' fer ye ter get hyar." + +Deeply perplexed and depressed with the foreboding of one who fights +enemies shadowy and ill-defined, yet forced, since he had come so far, +to go forward, Kinnard Towers followed, as Bear Cat led the way to a +huge rock which afforded a natural rostrum. + +"Men," cried Turner Stacy when a semi-circle of lowering faces had +pressed close and attentive about the shallow eminence, "last night Mr. +Henderson an' me come sore wounded from ther Quarterhouse, whar a +murder hed done been hatched: a murder thet partly failed. I sent out +messengers ter call ye tergether fer counsel as ter whether ther truce +hed been busted. I hain't found out yit fer sartain whether hit has er +not--an' until we knows fer sure we're still held in our bonds of +peace. Meanwhile I've done give my hand ter Kinnard Towers hyar, in my +name an' yourn, thet he kin ride home, safe. If he speaks ther truth +he's entitled ter respect. If he lies thar'll be time a plenty an' men +a plenty ter deal with him hereafter. Kinnard aims ter talk ter ye, an' +I wants thet ye hearken till he gits through." + +The hereditary foeman, who knew that he was being pilloried in bitter +disbelief, stood with an erect calmness as he was introduced. His face +held an almost ministerial tranquillity, though his sense apprised him +of the hush that goes ahead of the storm. He saw the green patches of +the pines against the unaltered blue of the sky and the dull sparkle +awakened by the sunlight on the barrels and locks of fiercely-caressed +firearms. + +As he moved a pace forward a chorused growl of truculent hatred was his +reception, but that was a demonstration for which he was prepared--and +against which he had steeled himself. He was less accustomed to making +public pleas than to giving orders in cloistered privacy--but he was a +lord of lies, and deeply versed in the prejudices upon which he hoped +to play. + +"I come over hyar this day," he declared by way of preface, "of my own +free will--an' unsolicited by any man. I come open-eyed an' chancin' +death, because I knowed I'd done kept ther compact of ther peace--an' I +trusted myself ter ther upstandin' honesty of ther Stacys ter do +likewise. Ef harm overtakes me hit'll be because I trusted thet honesty +over-much." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + + +As the snarling restiveness moderated to curiosity under Kinnard's +uncouth forcefulness and seemingly candid words, he repeated the +mendacious story of his outraged righteousness, when he had learned +that in his tavern the murder of a gentleman from the lowlands had been +attempted. His place, he pointed out, was open to all comers--the law +required that he extend its entertainment to every man who paid the +price. He himself had not been present in time to prevent the outbreak. +Had he entertained a prior and guilty knowledge of the plot, he would +scarcely have interfered last night. He would not have come to-day with +his assurance of sympathy and his proffer of aid into a nest of +swarming hornets. + +Mr. Henderson's life had been attempted by some unknown foe once +before, he reminded them. Apparently it had been his misfortune to make +enemies as well as friends. The speaker paused and shook his head +regretfully. + +"He come hyar a stranger amongst us an' war tuck in by Lone Stacy, a +man we all trusts--a man we all loves. Why should ther hand of anybody +hev been lifted erginst him? Ther stranger thet sojourns hyarabouts, +mindin' his own business, gin'rally walks safe. Hit's a question I +kain't answer.... Mebby hit war because Mr. Henderson fell inter ther +error of preachin' too strong a doctrine of change.... I only knows +this much myself: thet on ther night he got hyar I heered him talk thet +a-way--an' outen sheer friendliness I warned him thet amongst us simple +folks thar'd be some thet wouldn't take kindly ter sich notions. He +aimed ter show us how wrong our idees war; notions of life thet our +grand-sires hes fostered fer two hundred y'ars an' upwards. He aimed +ter undo in a twinklin' all thet's growed into our bones an' blood an' +free life endurin' ginerations--an' ter _civilize_ us. It war +considerable undertakin'." + +Again a low growl ran through his audience, but this time its +indignation was not aimed at the speaker. + +"I've even heered men claim thet Mr. Henderson come up hyar seekin' ter +rob us in ther interest of ther railroad, though I don't sceercely like +ter believe hit--ner even ter repeat hit." + +Once more the blond head was shaken in sad regretfulness. + +"We've done dwelt hyar, cut off from ther rest of ther world fer +ginerations. We hain't got much eddication, but we're honest an' +independent an' all we asks is ter be left alone ter work out our own +salvation. In other times ther feud split us up into enemies, but since +ther truce war made we've consorted peaceable." For a space he paused +to gaze meditatively at the spear-like timber fringe against the +fleckless blue. + +"Ef Mr. Henderson unthoughtedly meddled an' somebody acted rash," went +on Towers easily, "sorry es we all feels fer hit, an' det'armined es we +all air ter punish thet person in full accordance with ther law--still +hit warn't no Stacy thet was attacked. Mr. Henderson lays thar a-dyin' +an' fer him I hain't got no feelin' but charity--but he warn't no +Stacy! Ther folks down below, whar he hails from, will take plentiful +pains ter avenge his death. Ter them, we hain't nothin' but benighted +barbarians of ther bloody hills--an' he war an eddicated gentleman! +Hit'll be a turrible pity ef we neighborly men goes ter war ergin over +any false suspicion." + +Kinnard swept his hands outward in a gesture like a benediction and +stepped back. Where slurring growls had greeted him he left a silence +which testified to the telling effect of his words. Their anger now was +readier to burn into indignation against the invader who had sought to +alter their life. + +Though the young Stacy had interrupted by no word or sound, there was +something in his stillness of deportment that presaged storm ready to +burst. As he came to the edge of the bowlder his movements had the +smooth elasticity of a panther--and when he stood silent for a moment +his eyes rained lightning bolts of intensity. + +"I've done stood here without interruptin' an' listened at Kinnard +Towers' talk," he said, and the contempt of his tone was as stinging as +a rawhide lash. "'Most all of what he has told ye, I believes ter be +lies an' if they be, I aims ter have a full reckonin', but afore I +begins I wants ter charge ye all in full solemnity thet we've pledged +him a safe journey home--an' ef harm comes ter him afore he gits thar +our name stands disgraced ter ther end of time. He's a hirer of +murderers an' he's fattened offen poverty an' ther gallows air too good +fer him--but a pledge is a bond!" + +Bear Cat wheeled for a moment to face Kinnard Towers himself as he made +this assertion, then he proceeded with the crescendo of a gathering +tempest. + +"He says thet ther murder of Jerry Henderson hain't no consarn of +your'n, and he tells ye thet Henderson's under suspicion of seekin' ter +cheat ye outen yore birthright. Ef he believed thet on good reason an' +held his counsel thus far he aided an' abetted ther robbery. But I +believes thet's a lie, too, because ef Jerry Henderson sought ter rob +ye an' plunder ye successfully all he needed ter do war to _make a +deal_ with Kinnard Towers, fust. + +"This man thet rules thet country from a boozin' ken, whar' ther stench +of infamy pizens ther air, tells ye he stands fer law--an' I tells ye +thet his kind of law makes all decent men want ter be outlaws. Judges +an' juries hyarabouts does his biddin' ter ther damage of every honest +man, because they walks in terror of him--an' debauches themselves ter +hold his favor! He flies high an' his wings are strong--he passes fer +an eagle--but he feeds on carrion." + +Bear Cat swept into a stinging arraignment of the chicanery with which +he charged Towers, piling invective upon anathema with the passionate +sweep of a tornado. As faces that had listened to Towers with attention +hardened again, Kinnard braced himself and forced a satirical smile. + +"This man aimed ter git Jerry Henderson from ther fust day he come +hyar--not because ther stranger sought ter feel ther way fer ther +railroad, but because he dared ter talk fer enlightenment: for schools +whar yore children could grow inter straight manhood, an' roads thet +could take yore crops and timber ter market. Sich open speech didn't +suit Kinnard, hyar, because when folks has knowledge they ceases ter be +victims ter his greed and cunnin'. + +"Jerry Henderson spoke out his belief an' he was marked down by Kinnard +Towers fer death. He's a-dyin' now." + +A low and dangerous murmur ran over the crowd, but Bear Cat Stacy +stilled it with his raised hands. + +"I believes thet Kinnard connived with ther Judas revenuer to jail my +paw expressly ter cl'ar ther road fer this murder. Ef thet's true he +didn't jest attack a furriner, but he affronted every Stacy an' busted +ther truce ter boot! Till I kin prove what I suspicions, I aims ter +hold my hand; but I stud in Brother Fulkerson's house last night amids +ther ashes of sorrow an' I've done dedicated what's left of my life ter +one aim. + +"I don't know whether I'll hev holp or go single-handed, but as +Almighty God hears me, I aims ter clean up these hills! I aims thet +'stid of grumblin' like old grannies because our fields air littered +with rock an' our roads air all dirt, we shell take ther rock outen +ther fields an' put hit on ther roads. I aims thet every child thet +hankers fer enough larnin' ter raise himself above ther level of beasts +shell hev a school whar he kin git hit. I aims thet when yore baby +falls sick or thar's a bornin' at yore house, ther doctor kin git +thar--in time!" + +He paused, and his audience, swept by the abandon of his extemporaneous +fervor, fell into an excited approval. The magic of inherent strength +and sheer personality was at work upon them. + +"Before sich things es them kin be brought ter pass," began the speaker +again in a voice dropping suddenly to stern calm, "ther wrath of +numerous folks will flare up ter murder-hate--because thar's a +stumblin' block in ther path thet's ancient an' thet hes got ter be +man-powered loose. Betwixt us an' betterment stands ther thing thet all +our troubles springs from--an' though hit don't profit but one man in +every score, yit thar be some amongst ye thet'll die fer hit!" + +He stopped and looked down into faces puzzled and uncomprehending. Eyes +turned up to the speaker out of lean and serious visages, waiting for +his next sentence, and he himself stood there for a moment or two in a +silence which was as much an emphasis as a blank margin which stresses +the conspicuousness of print. + +His own face, still drawn with the travail of last night's gamut of +emotion, and his figure motionless with the pent-up dynamics of a +tight-wound coil, carried the impression of action presently to burst +with a force beyond governing. They had always thought of him as a man +bred for action but short of speech; a man bound like themselves by the +constrictions which generations of taciturn ancestors had laid upon +fluency, damming it into difficulty. But now self-consciousness was as +absent from his attitude as though the torrential quality of his +thoughts and words came from an external force sweeping through him and +speaking through him. + +Abruptly he thrust a hand into the breast pocket of his coat--a coat +torn recently by bullets meant for his heart--and drew out a thing +familiar to every man in that assemblage: a flat flask of colorless +glass, filled with a fluid as white as itself. He held the thing high +above his head, and ripped out his words with a crackling force. + +"Thar's ther enemy thet's laid hits curse on the men an' women of +these-hyar mountings! Thar's ther thing thet's hatched from ther worm +of their still--ther pizen thet breeds in ther la'rel! _That's_ what +turns kindly men inter brutes an' wives inter widders an' children +inter orphans! Thar's ther thing thet hes made ther purest blood in all +America bear ther repute afore ther rest of ther world of a people of +bloody outlaws! + +"Hit's bottles like thet thet hes shut ther doors of our country +against progress an' prosperity--an' barred out ther future from ther +hills. Hit's bottles like thet thet hes chained us ter ther dead past +when our kinsmen down below war a-marchin' on ter advancement. Hit's +ther false idee thet a man hes a license ter break ther law in +blockadin', even ter ther hurt of them thet don't blockade, thet's +carried along with hit a contempt fer all other law--an' raised up a +spirit of murder an' lay-wayin'." + +As he paused again for a breathing space, still holding high the flask +above his head, he might have read a warning in the clouding of pupils +and the tightening of lips; in the out-thrusting of jaws and the +stiffening of shoulders. But these indications of hostile sentiment +seemed only to bring a more fiery hotness to his words and his voice. + +"I made this licker myself," he declared. "I made hit up thar in ther +thickets. My paw lies in jail now fer doin' ther same thing. Many's +ther night--an' ther day, too--thet I've laid up thar drunk with ther +pizen thet I've brewed--but no man will ever see me drunk ergin! + +"I've carried this flask in my pocket whar I could feel hit a-layin' +against my heart--ever since ther day I quit. I've carried hit thar so +thet thar wouldn't never be a time, day or night, when hit couldn't hev +ther chance ter lick me, ef so be hit proved bigger an' stronger then +me. I wasn't askin' no favors of ther worm of ther still--an' now I +hain't a-goin' ter give hit none! Thar's been times when my throat +scalded me an' my belly tormented me--when I felt like as ef I'd burn +an' shrivel ef I didn't uncork hit an' drink. But I hain't never teched +hit since then--an' now I kin laugh at hit. Now I know that Satan +helped me ter make hit--an' I'm a-goin' ter make war on hit till I +stomps hit out or hit kills me!" + +Bear Cat Stacy, with that quick gesture so often seen in the hills, +raised the flask to his mouth and jerked out the cork with his +teeth--then he spat the stopper out of his mouth, and with hand again +raised high, inverted the flask so that the contents gurgled out in a +thin stream and, in the dead silence, the blubbering sound of the +emptying was as if the thing itself was giving up its life with a sob +of protest. + +Then dashing down the bottle and shattering it on the rocks, the young +man broke out with a crescendo of vehemence. + +"What you men hev seed me do with thet-thar flask of blockade licker +thet I made myself, ye're a-goin' ter see me do in like fashion with +all the rest this side of Cedar Mounting. Ye're a-goin' ter see me lift +ther curse thet's been on us like a lunacy an' a pestilence. Ye're +goin' ter see me smash every flask an' every bottle. Ye're goin' ter +see me empty out every jug an' knock in ther head of every kag an' +barrel, twell ther spleen of meanness an' murder runs out with ther +licker--an' a peace comes thet kin hope ter endure." + +Then with abrupt and climacteric effect he wheeled and shouted to +someone who stood unseen behind the angular shoulder of the rock +itself. The next moment he lifted up and set down at his feet a spiral +thing of copper tubing which caught on its burnished coils the +brightness of the sun and gave back a red glitter. + +"Ther day of hills enslaved by a copper sarpint hes done come to an +end!" he declared in a passion-shaken voice. "I aims ter do ter every +cursed one of 'em this side of Cedar Mountain what I'm goin' ter do ter +this one, hyar an' now!" + +He seized up an axe which had been lying at his feet and swung it above +his head. Poised in that posture of arrested action, his final words +were defiantly thundered out. + +"I've done took my oath ter hang these things like dead snakes along +ther highway fer all men ter see. They stands accountable fer poverty +an' squalor an' bloodshed. Because of ther pestilence they've brought +an' ther prosperity they've turned away--they've got ter go." + +The ax crashed down in stroke after stroke upon the coiled thing at his +feet, gashing it into destruction as the crowd broke into a restive +shuffling of feet and looked on in dismay--as yet too dumfounded for +open protest. + +"My God, Bear Cat's done gone crazed," whispered a man on the outskirts +of the crowd. "He's plumb fittified." + +Slowly the spell of astonishment began to give way to a fuller +realization of the heresy that had been preached and which had appalled +them by its audacity. Comparatively few of them were actual moonshiners +but at other times many of them had been--and their spirit was defense +of their institutions. Yet the face of this young man, bred to their +own traditions, was fired with an ardor amazingly convincing and +dauntless. In many of the elder heads had glimmered a germ of the same +thought that Bear Cat had put into hot words; glimmered in transient +consideration, to be thrust back because the daring needed for its +expression was lacking. Here was Bear Cat Stacy boldly proclaiming his +revolutionary purpose in advance because he wished to be fair; +announcing that if need arose he would wage war on his enemies and his +friends alike in its fulfilment. It would take a bold spirit to +volunteer aid--and yet there were those whose only objection to the +crusade was its mad impracticability. There were others, too, who, as +Bear Cat had prophesied, would fight such vandal menace to the death. + +So, after the first spell-bound pause, a threatening growl ran through +the crowd and then like a magpie chorus broke and swelled the babel of +discussion. Out of it came a dominating note of disappointment--almost +disgust--for the leader to whom they had loyally rallied. Kinnard +Towers stood for a while appraising their temper, then his lips parted +in a smile that savored of satisfaction. + +"So Bear Cat Stacy goes dry!" he exclaimed with a contemptuous tone +intended to be generally overheard. Then in a lower voice he added for +Turner's ear alone: + +"Son, ye've done made a damn' fool of yoreself, but hit hain't hardly +fer me ter censure ye. Hit suits me right well. Afore this day I feared +ye mout be troublesome ter me, but ye've done broke yore own wings. +From this time forward ye hain't nothin' but an eaglet thet kain't rise +offen ther ground. I was sensibly indignant whilst ye blackguarded me a +while ago--but now I kin look over hit. I reckon yore own people will +handle ye all right, without any interference from me." + +The chief of the Towers clan turned insolently on his heel and walked +away and the crowd fell back to let him pass. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + + +When the Jews heard of a Messiah coming as a king they made ready to +acclaim him, but when they found him a moralist commanding the +sacrifice of their favorite sins, they surrendered him to Pilate and +cried out to have Barrabas freed to them. + +That afternoon Turner Stacy, the apostate leader, saw his kinsmen +breaking into troubled groups of seething debate. The yeast of surprise +and palpable disappointment was fermenting in their thoughts. They had +come prepared to follow blindly the command of a warrior--and had +encountered what seemed to them a noisy parson. + +Those who saw in the young man a bigger and broader leadership than +they had expected were those who just now said little. So some regarded +him with silent and pitying reproach while others scowled openly and +spat in disgust--but all dropped away and the crowd melted from +formidable numbers to lingering and unenthusiastic squads. They had not +even attached serious importance to his threat upon blockading--it was +mere bumptiousness indicating his mercurial folly. + +In every indication he read utter repudiation by his clan. His eager +but limited reading had taught him that every true leader, if he is far +enough in advance of those he leads, must bear this bitter brunt of +misunderstanding, but he was young and a freshly inspired fanatic, and +that meant that he was in this respect, humorless--but he was not +beaten. + +Standing somewhat apart with a satirical smite drawing his lips, Bear +Cat watched them ride away, and when most of them had gone his uncle, +Joe Stacy, came over and stood by his side. + +"Ontil ter-day, Turner," he said with a note of deep sorrow in his +voice, "I 'lowed ye hed ahead of ye a right hopeful future. I 'lowed +ye'd be a leader--but ye kain't lead men contrarywise ter doctrines +thet they fed on at thar mothers' breasts. I've always kind of hed ther +notion thet someday ye'd go down thar ter Frankfort an' set in ther +legislature ... but ter-day ye've done flung away ther loyalty of men +that bragged about ye an' war ready ter die, follerin' ye." + +"I reckon they kin find plenty of men ter lead 'em _thet_ way,--round +an' round in circles thet don't git nowhars," came the defiant +response. "Thet hain't ther sort of leadership I craves." + +"Hit hain't thet I holds no love fer blockade 'stillin'," explained the +older man seriously. "I got my belly full a long time back--an' quit. +Ef ye could stomp hit out, I'd say do hit--but ye kain't. Ye hain't +jest seekin' ter t'ar out stills--ye're splittin' up yore own blood +inter factions an' warfare. Thar hain't nothin' kin come outen hit all, +save fer ye ter be diskivered some day a-layin' stretched out in a +creek-bed road, with a bullet bored through yore body." + +Bear Cat only shook his head with stubborn insistence. "Ye don't raise +no crop," he declared, "twell ye've done cl'ared ther ground, an' ef +ther snags goes deep hit takes dynamite." + +"Then I kain't dissuade ye? Ye aims ter go ahead with hit?" + +"I aims ter go ahead with hit twell I finishes my job or gets kilt +tryin'." + +"Then thar hain't nuthin' left ter do but bid ye farewell. Ye've done +made yoreself a hard bed. In a fashion I honors ye fer hit, but I +pities ye, too. Ye've done signed yore own doom." + +"I thanks ye," said Bear Cat gravely. "But I hain't askin' pity yit." + +In the yard where so many feet had been tramping there was now total +emptiness. The flock of geese still waddled and squawked down by the +creek, but by the gate Bear Cat stood alone--a man who had forfeited +his heritage. + +The sun was setting and the ache of recent wounds and fatigue was +accentuated by the rawness of approaching twilight. Beyond the trickle +of prattling water, went up the frowning and unchanging hills, bleak +and sinister with their ancient contempt for change. Bear Cat Stacy +threw back his head. + +"They don't see nothin' in me but brag an' foolishness," he bitterly +admitted, "but afore God I aims ter show 'em thet thar's more in me +then thet!" + +Already a plan for the first chapter of his undertaking had fully +evolved itself and it was a thing which must be launched to-night--but +first he meant to make a sad pilgrimage. He would not go in, but he +would stand outside Blossom's window--perhaps for the last time. +Something drew him there--a compelling force and he remained an hour. +When he turned away cold beads of nervous sweat stood on his temples. + +Suddenly he saw two figures cross the road and plunge furtively into +the laurel, and they moved as men move who have a nefarious intent. +They were Dog Tate and Joe Sanders; the men to whom, last night, he had +fled for succor, and at once he divined their purpose. + +Bear Cat, too, turned into the timber and, by hurrying over the broken +face of the slopes, intercepted their more cautious course. But when he +stood out in the path and confronted them, it was no longer into +friendly faces that he looked. + +"Dog, I wants ter hev speech with ye," he said quietly, and the +moonshiner, who had instinctively thrust forward his rifle, stood with +a finger that trembled in impatience while it nursed the trigger. + +"Don't hinder me, Bear Cat," he barked warningly, "I'm in dire +haste--an' I've got severe work ahead of me." + +"I knows right well what thet work air, Dog." The young man spoke +calmly. "I reckon hit's a thing ye gave me yore pledge not many hours +back ye'd put by twell another day an' I hain't freed ye from thet +bond." + +"Who air _you_ ter talk of pledges?" The friend of last night savagely +snarled his question with a scorn that shook his voice. "You thet this +day broke yore faith with yore blood ter line up with raiders an' +revenuers!" + +Bear Cat's face whitened with an anger which he rigidly repressed. + +"Ye succored me last night when I needed ye sore," came the steady +response, "an' I'm willin' ter look over these hardships of speech, but +a pledge given is a pledge thet's got ter stand till hit's done been +given back." + +Tate's eyes were blazing with a dangerous passion and his rage made his +words come pantingly: + +"Hit's too late fer preachin' texts, Bear Cat. We believed in ye +yestiddy. Ter-day we spits ye outen our mouths. Ye kain't call us ter +war one day an' send us back home, unsatisfied, ther next. My pappy's +kerchief's right hyar in my pocket now--an' ther blood thet's on hit +calls out ter me louder then yore fine palaverin's!" + +Bear Cat Stacy's rifle had been swinging in his hand. He made no effort +to raise it. + +"When ye calls me a traitor ter my blood, ye lies, Dog," he said with a +hard evenness of tone. "I reckon ye knows what hit means ter hold a +bitter hate--I've done read thet much in yore face, but I holds a +deeper an' blacker hate then ye ever dreamt of--an' I've done put hit +aside--fer a reason thet meant more ter me then _hit_ did." + +Through the excitement that made the other's chest heave Turner +recognized a bewildered curiosity and he went on. + +"I hain't never stood by afore an' suffered no man ter give me names +like you've jest called me. I reckon I won't hardly never do hit +ergin--but I owes ye gratitude fer last night an' I'm goin' ter owe ye +more. Ye hain't a-goin' ter lay-way Kinnard Towers this night, Dog. +Ye're a-goin' along with me ter do what I bids ye." + +"Like hell I am!" snarled Tate, though in the next breath, without +realizing the anti-climax of his question, he added, "Why am I?" + +"Because I've got a bigger aim then sneakin' murders an' I aims ter hev +men like you holp me. Because when we finishes our job yore children +air goin' ter dwell in safety." He talked on fervently and despite +himself the man with his finger on the trigger listened. + +It all seemed very fantastic and radical to Dog Tate, yet there was +such a hypnotic power in the voice and manner that he lowered his +cocked rifle. + +"Bear Cat," he said with a sort of bewilderment, "thet talk sounds +powerful flighty ter me, but if ye air outen yer right mind I reckon I +kain't kill ye--an' ef thar's a solitary grain of sense in what ye says +God knows I'd like ter hev ye show hit ter me." + +The shadows lengthened across the valleys and the peaks grew cloudily +somber as Bear Cat Stacy talked. He was trying for his first convert +and his soul went into his persuasiveness. He had himself done first +what he asked of others. His still was destroyed for a bigger aim. It +was a new and more effective warfare which required certain sacrifices. + +A slow grin of sardonic amusement spread eventually over the face of +Dog Tate. He put down his rifle. + +"Then ye means thet hit hain't a-goin' ter be jest preachin'? Kinnard +hain't goin' ter escape scot-free? Because I've always figgered he +belonged ter me." + +"So many men figgers thet," retorted Stacy dryly, "thet in ther time of +final reckonin' thar won't be enough of him ter go round. I aims ter +hang him in Marlin Town, with his own jedge passin' sentence on him." + +Dog Tate drew a clay pipe from his pocket and kindled it. His eyes +glowed with a pleasurable anticipation. + +"Wa'al, now, es ter thet blockade still of mine," he drawled +reflectively. "My old woman's been faultin' me erbout hit fer a long +spell, an' seekin' ter prevail on me ter quit. She 'lows hit'll cost +more'n hit comes ter afore we gits through an' I misdoubts she hain't +fur wrong." He chewed on the pipe-stem yet a while longer, then +suddenly he announced: "I reckon thet still don't owe me nothin' much. +Hit's about wore out anyhow. Let's go over thar an' bust her up--an' +straightway start hell a-poppin'." + +Bear Cat Stacy glanced keenly at Joe Sanders who had remained a pace or +two apart, holding his counsel with a face that bore no index to his +sentiments. "Air you with us, too, Joe?" he demanded. "This-hyar +business hain't a-goin' ter be no frolic. We don't want no men thet +don't aim ter go through with hit." + +Joe scratched his head, speaking cautiously. "I works fer wages myself. +Dog hires me--albeit I'd ruther do any other fashion of labor. +Howsoever, I don't aim ter make common cause with no revenuers. I +hain't no Judas priest." + +"Revenuers--hell!" exploded Bear Cat Stacy. "I don't make no common +cause with 'em nuther. I'm willin' ter let ther govern_ment_ skin hits +own skunks." + +For so portentous a decision, Joe Sanders gave a disproportionately +laconic reply. "All right then. Ye kin count me in es fur es ye goes." + +It was a night of fitful moonlight, breaking through a scud of windy +clouds, only to be swallowed again, when by the flare of a lantern the +three men stood over the ruins of what had been a crude distillery--its +erstwhile proprietor grinning sardonically as he surveyed the +completeness of his vandalism. + +"I reckon thet finishes ye up, old whiskey-snake," he commented in grim +obituary. "I boughten thet piece of copper offen a feller thet murdered +a revenuer ter save hit--so hit's due fer punishment." + +"Thet's all right so far es hit goes," Bear Cat reminded him crisply, +"but hit don't go far enough. We've got more work ter do yit. When men +wakes up ter-morrer, they've got ter hev proof thet I've started out in +earnest." Around the fire the three squatted on their heels, and talked +in low voices. + +"I knows of three more stills sca'cely more'n a whoop an' a holler +distant from hyar es ye mout say," volunteered Joe Sanders. "I hain't +settin' hit out fer gospel fact, but I've heered hit norated round +about, thet Mark Tapper don't even try ter molest these stills on +account of a deal he's made with Kinnard." + +"Wa'al, Kinnard hain't got no bit in _my_ mouth," growled Dog. "Whar +air these places at, Joe?" + +Sanders was now innoculated with the spirit of crusade--not so much as +a reform as a new and impudent adventure--and his lips parted in a +contented grin that showed his uneven teeth. + +"A couple on 'em air closed down fer ther time-bein'," he enlightened, +"but ther worms air thar. By ter-morrer Kinnard'll jest about hev +passed on a warnin' an' they'll be watched, but ter-night hit's cl'ar +sleddin'. A man kin bust 'em up single handed an' nuver be suspicioned. +Hit'll tek all three of us tergether ter manage ther third one though, +because _thet_ still b'longs ter little Jake Kinnard an' Jake or his +law-kin Mat Branham'll be on watch--mebby both of 'em." + +Bear Cat's eyes brightened at this prospect of immediate action. +"Little" Jake, so dubbed after mountain custom because his father still +lived and bore the same given name, was a nephew of Kinnard Towers, and +despite his diminutive title prided himself on his evil and murderous +repute. He was a "notched-gun" man and high in his uncle's favor. + +"Air they runnin' thet kittle in ther same place es they used to a year +back?" demanded Turner, and Joe nodded as he replied. "Ther same +identical spot. Hit's, as a man mout say, right in ther shadder of ther +Quarterhouse hitself." + +Bear Cat Stacy was on his feet and his words came with the animation of +a daring plan already formulated. + +"Now hearken.... You two boys look atter them idle stills.... I aims +ter manage this t'other one--by myself." + +Dog Tate raised a hand in remonstrance, but Turner beat down argument +with a contemptuous laugh. "I'm in haste because I'm a-wearied," he +explained, "an' thet's ther speediest way ter git through an' lay down. +I'll be at yore house afore sun-up, an' I reckon ye kin hide me out +thar fer a few hours while I sleeps, kain't ye?" + +"I kin take keer of ye--ef ye gits thar alive," affirmed the first +recruit. "But hit looks severely dubious ter me." + +Turner tightened his belt, but as he was leaving he wheeled to direct: +"This worm of your'n an' ther t'other two hes got ter be hangin' in +ther highway by daylight. I aims ter hang Jake Kinnard's right up +erginst ther stockade of ther Quarterhouse." + +As he scuttled through the dark timber the moon broke out at intervals, +making of the road a patch-work of shadow and light. Last night he was +hiding out only from the revenue agent and his informers. To-night he +had flung his challenge to the vested rights of tradition and forfeited +clan sponsorship. Every hand was against him. + +His way carried him past the Quarterhouse itself and near the +hitching-rack he halted, crouched low against the naked briars and dead +brush-wood. Among the several beasts fastened there was a gray horse +more visible than its darker companions, which he recognized as +belonging to Black Tom Carmichael. Yet Black Tom had been otherwise +mounted to-day when he had ridden away from Little Slippery with +Kinnard Towers. + +Obviously the fresh animal stood saddled for a new journey--probably a +mission of general warning. Bear Cat drew back into the invisibility of +the steep hillside to watch, and it was only a short time before the +door of Kinnard's own house, on the opposite slope, opened. Towers +himself he only glimpsed, for the chieftain did not make a practice of +offering himself as a target by night, framed in lighted doorways. + +But Black Tom came down the path to mount and ride away, and Bear Cat +struck off at right angles through the woods. The horseman must follow +the road he had taken to the next crossing, and the pedestrian could +reach the place more quickly by the footpath. Having arrived, he lay +belly-down on a titanic bowlder in time to hear the cuppy thud of +unshod hooves on the soft road and, a little later, to see Black Tom +dismount and hitch. + +Carmichael turned into the woodland trail without suspicion. He was on +territory which should be safe, and he walked with a noisy carelessness +that swallowed up what little sound Turner Stacy could not avoid as he +followed. + +By the simple device of playing shadow to the man in front Bear Cat +drew so near to the still that he could both see and hear, though the +last stage of the journey through the interlocked thickets he +accomplished with such minute caution that Black Tom sat by the fire +with a tin cup of white liquor in his hand before his follower lay +ensconced a stone's throw away. It was a nest of secrecy, buried from +even a near view by the tops of felled hemlock which would hold their +screen of foliage throughout the winter. + +Edging the narrow circle of firelight, walls of rock and naked trees +were sketched flat and grotesque against the inky void beyond them. Two +figures in muddied overcoats huddled close to the blaze, and Black Tom +was reciting the events of the day over on Little Slippery. + +"They didn't p'intedly aim ter harm Bear Cat Stacy last night--he jest +run inter ther ruction. Hit war ther furriner thet Kinnard wanted +kilt." + +"Drink all ye craves an' tell me ther whole story," amicably invited +"Little" Jake Kinnard. + +"I aimed ter warn ye erbout this Bear Cat's threat ter rip out +stills--albeit we deems hit ter be mostly brash talk," Carmichael +explained. "We didn't invite no trouble with ther Stacys. Kinnard fixed +hit with Mark Tapper ter hev old Lone jailed so thet ther thing could +he done easy like--an' peaceable--but Bear Cat come a-beltin' back an' +hit went awry." + +The simmering fury of his blood boiled over in Turner's veins while he +listened. All the duplicity of to-day now stood revealed and positive. +All his suspicions were proven. With two quick shots from his rifle he +could put an end to both these assassins, but he remained rigid. "No, +by God," he mused. "I aims ter do hit on ther gallows-tree--not from +ambush." + +After a period Black Tom rose, making ready to leave, and now Turner +Stacy had need to hasten. The point at which he wished to await +Kinnard's second in command was the outer end of a narrow defile which +served as a sort of gateway to the place. Centuries of trickling +water-tongues had licked it out of the rock walls and it was so narrow +that two men could not pass through it abreast. + +But Carmichael paused for further converse on the edge of his +departure, and Turner wailed for some minutes, shivering because he had +taken off his coat, before his ears told him of the approach of a +single pair of heavy feet. + +The scudding raggedness of the clouds had been swept into wider tatters +now and the moon was steadier though still not brightly clear. Bear Cat +stooped, like a crouching panther, just outside the elbow of the rock +wall, holding his coat as a _matador_ holds the flag in the course of a +charging bull. Then a bulky figure emerged and there followed a sweep +of heavy cloth; an attempted outcry which ended in a stifled gurgle, +and Carmichael went down, borne under the impact of an unexpected +onslaught, with his breath smothered in an enmeshing tangle. + +For a moment Bear Cat knelt on the prostrate figure which had been +stunned by its heavy fall, twisting the coat about the face and throat; +then, experimentally, he eased the suffocation--and there was no hint +of attempted outcry. + +A few minutes later Black Tom opened his eyes and peered through the +darkness. To his dizzy eyes matters seemed confused. His mouth was +securely gagged and, at his back, his wrists were so stiffly pinioned +that when he struggled to free them he felt the nasty bite of +metal--evidently a buckle. + +Above him he made out a pair of eyes that glittered down on him with an +unpleasant truculence. + +"Git up an' come on," ordered a voice. "Ye'll hev ter excuse me fer +takin' yore rifle-gun an' pistol." + +Slowly Tom rose and went, prodded into amenability by the muzzle of a +rifle in the small of his back. When he had been thus goaded to the +point where his horse was hitched his captor stripped saddle, bridle +and halter of their straps and ropes, and set the beast free. Some of +the commandeered tethers he employed to truss his prisoner up in a +manner that left him as helplessly immovable as a mummy. + +"Now I reckon ye'll hev ter wait fer me a leetle," said Bear Cat with +brutal shortness. "Thar's still one more back thar ter attend ter." + +Carrying with him bridle-reins and stirrup-straps, he disappeared again +into the defile. Creeping for the second time with the best of his +Indian-like stealth to the edge of the fire-lighted clearing, he saw +Jake Kinnard standing, with his eyes on the embers, ten feet away from +the rifle that was propped against a tree. + +With a leap that sounded crashingly in the dead bushes Turner +catapulted himself into the lighted area, and as the moonshiner +wheeled, his hand going instinctively out toward his weapon, he found +himself covered from a distance of two yards. + +"Hands overhead!--an' no noise," came the sharp warning, and had he +been inclined to disobey the words there was an avid glitter in the +eyes of the sudden visitor discouraging to argument. + +"Lay down betwixt them two saplin's thar," was the next order, and +foaming with futile rage, Jake glanced about wildly--and discreetly did +as he was told. + +Ten minutes later Turner rose from his knees, leaving behind him a man +gagged and staked out, Indian fashion, with feet harnessed to one +tree-trunk and hands to another. + +Lying mute and harrowed with chagrin, he saw his copper coil battered +into shapelessness and his mash vat emptied upon the ground. Then he +saw Bear Cat Stacy disappear into the shadows, trophy-laden. + +Dawn was near once more before Turner reached the Quarterhouse, and +from the hitching-rack the last mount had been ridden away. Before him, +still muffled against outcry, plodded Black Carmichael, seething with a +fury which would ride him like a mania until he had avenged his +indignities--but for the moment he was inoffensive. + +At the place where the gray horse had been tethered, Turner lashed the +rider. Above his head to an over-arching sycamore branch, he swung a +maltreated coil of copper tubing. Then he turned, somewhat wearied and +aching of muscle, into the timber again. + +"I reckon now," he said to himself, "I kin go over thar an' lay down." + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + + +Three times along the way, as the new crusader trudged on to Dog Tate's +cabin, the late-setting moon glinted on queerly twisted things +suspended from road-side trees--things unlike the fruit of either +hickory or poplar. + +A grim satisfaction enlivened his tired eyes, but it lingered only for +a moment. Before them rose the picture of a girl sitting stricken by a +bedside, and his brows contracted painfully with the memory. + +From the window of Tate's cabin came a faint gleam of light, and, as he +drew cautiously near, a figure rose wearily from the dark doorstep. + +"I've been settin' up fer ye," announced Dog. "I mistrusted ye'd done +met with mishap." + +Inside the cabin crowded with sleeping and snoring figures, the host +pointed to a loft under the shingles. "Ye'll hev ter bed in up thar," +he said. "Don't come down ter-morrer twell I gives ye ther word. Right +likely thar'll be folks abroad sarchin' fer ye. Me an' Joe aims ter +blackguard ye no end fer bustin' up our still." + +"Thet's what I 'lowed ter caution ye ter do," acquiesced Turner. "All +I'm askin' now air a few hours of slumber." + +He climbed the ladder with heavy limbs, and, falling on the floor among +its litter of household effects, was instantly asleep. + + * * * * * + +It was the habit of Kinnard Towers to rise early, even for a people of +early risers, and on this morning he followed his customary routine. +Last night he had slept restlessly because the events of the day had +been stressful and uncertain, even if, in their summary, there had been +an element of satisfaction. + +So Kinnard pulled on his trousers and boots, still thinking of +yesterday, and crossed the hall to the room where Black Tom Carmichael +slept. + +Black Tom's bed had not been disturbed, and his door swung open. Towers +roused two other members of his household and the three went out into +the first mists of dawn to investigate. At the hitching-rack they +halted in dismay and their jaws sagged. + +The light was yet dim and ghostly, and at first the body that hung +unconscious with hours of chilling and cramp had every appearance of +lifelessness. A bitter anger broke out in Kinnard's face and for a time +none of them spoke. Then from the chief's lips escaped an oath so +fierce and profane that his men paused in their attempt at +resuscitating the corpse-like figure, and following his eyes they saw +the fresh insult which he had just discovered--a still-worm demolished +and hanging high. + +"Hell's clinkers!" stormed the leader. "What manner of deviltry air +this?" + +Restored, an hour later, by hot coffee and whiskey, Black Tom told his +story, colorfully embellished with profane metaphor, and a squad went +riding "hell-fer-leather" to the still of "Little" Jake Kinnard. + +When the sun was fully revealed they were back again, with another man, +feeble and half-frozen of body, but molten-hot of spirit to vouchsafe +indignant evidence. + +The cup of Towers' fury was brimming over, but before its first +bitterness had been quaffed yet other heralds of tribulation arrived to +pour in fresh wormwood. "Thar's still-house quiles hangin' all up an' +down ther high-road," they lamented. + +Kinnard looked at his henchman out of eyes somberly furious and his +florid face turned a choleric purple. + +"Thar hain't but one way ter treat sech a damn' pest es thet," he said +slowly with the implacable manner of one passing final sentence. "He's +got ter be kilt--an' kilt quick." But a sudden reflection obtruded +itself, snarling the simple edict with complication. "Hold on!" he +added with a less assured finality. "Hev any stills been tampered with +among his own folks--or air hit jest over hyar?" + +"We hain't heered much from ther yon side yit," admitted the +news-bearers. "Thar's one thet Dog Tate used ter run, though, thet's +hangin' high as Haaman. Dog's a kinsman of his'n but he dwells nigh ter +hyar." + +"Hev some fellers ride over thar an' talk with him," commanded Towers +with prompt efficiency. "Ef I war sure they wouldn't all stand behind +him, I'd take a crowd of men over thar an' hang him in front of his own +house. Yestiddy they didn't seem ter hev much use fer him." + +Of one thing, however, he failed to take adequate cognizance. That +turning away of the clan, yesterday, in cool or angry repudiation had +been less unanimous than it seemed. There were elders among them who +had for years deplored the locked-in life of their kind and to whom +this boy's effrontery secretly appealed. None of their own heritage and +breed had ever before dared to raise his voice against forcible +scourging out of a tolerated practice--but that did not mean that all +men sanctioned it in their hearts. + +So as the Stacys had scattered they had discussed the matter, guardedly +save where the speaker was sure of his auditor, and Kinnard would have +been astonished to know how many of them said, "I reckon mebby ther boy +is fittified--but ef he could do what he seeks ter, hit would sartain +sure be a God's blessin' ter these hills." + +"I don't see no diff'rence atween what he aims at, an' what them damn' +revenuers seeks ter do," suggested a young man who had fallen in with +Joe Stacy after the gathering and rode knee to knee with him. "Myself I +don't foller nuther makin' hit ner drinkin' hit. Hit kilt my daddy an' +my maw raised me up ter hate ther stuff--but I'm jest tellin' how hit +looks ter me." + +"Sim," said Joe Stacy gravely, "I counseled Turner ter put aside this +notion--because I misdoubted hit would mean his death, but ef ye don't +see no difference atween him an' a revenuer ye're jest a plain +idjit--an' I don't mean no offense neither. Ther revenuer works fer +blood money. Bear Cat hain't seekin' no gain but ter bring profit ter +his people. Ther revenuer slips up with knowledge thet he gains by +busted faith an' spies. Bear Cat's done spoke out open an' deeclared +hisself." + +The young man reined in his horse abruptly. + +"I'm obleeged ter ye fer enlightenen' me," he said with blunt +directness. "I'll ask ye ter hold yore counsel about this matter. I +aims ter go back thar an' work with him." + +A slow smile spread over the ragged lips of Bear Cat's uncle. He made +no criticism, but one might have gathered that he was not displeased. + +Back at Lone Stacy's house on the morning that Kinnard Towers was +awakening to conditions, were gathered a handful of men. They lounged +shiftlessly as though responding to no object save casual curiosity. +They were cautious to express neither approbation nor disapproval, but +intangibly the threads of sympathy and hostility were unraveling. Those +who were the steadier of gaze, clearer of pupil and fitter of brawn, +inclined toward Bear Cat and his crusade, and, conversely, those who +wore the stamp of reddened eye and puffed socket gave back sneering +scowls to the mention of his name. + +But all alike crowded around, when a traveler, who had elected to cross +the mountain from Marlin Town by night, paused, puffed with the +importance of one bearing news. + +"Hev ye folks done heered ther tidin's?" he demanded, shifting to a +sidewise position in his saddle. "Bear Cat Stacy's been raidin' stills. +Thar's a copper worm hangin' right at ther Quarterhouse door--an' trees +air bloomin' with others all along ther high road." + +The murmur was half a growl--for the group was not without its +blockader or two--and half pure tribute to prompt achievement. + +"Nor thet hain't all by half," went on the traveler, relating with the +gusto of a true climax how Black Tom had been bound to a hitching-rack +and Jake Kinnard staked out by his demolished mash kettle. This was +pure exploit--and whatever its motive the mountain man loves exploit. + +Moreover, these sufferers from Bear Cat's wrath were men close to the +hated Kinnard Towers. Faces that had brooded yesterday grinned to-day. + + * * * * * + +Kinnard's squad reached the house of Dog Tate while the morning was yet +young, searching each cabin along the way, in the hope that last +night's raider might be still hiding in their own terrain. + +They found Joe Sanders sitting on the doorstep, with the morose aspect +of a man deprived of his avocation in life. The wintry hillsides were +no moodier than his eyes, and the sullen skies no more darkly lowering. + +But Dog Tate himself was loquacious to a fault. He raved with a fury so +unbridled that it suggested lunacy. Bear Cat had come to his place +wounded and had been succored. Twenty-four hours later he had come +there again treasonably to repay that service by ripping out an +unguarded still. Henceforth the Stacy call might remain eternally +unanswered, and be relegated to perdition for all of him. + +"Dog," suggested the leader of the squad, "we've done been askin' leave +ter kinderly hev a look inter dwellin' houses--in case Bear Cat's still +layin' concealed over hyar. I reckon ye hain't hardly got no objection, +hev ye?" + +"Does ye 'low thet I'd be hidin' out ther man thet raided me?" The host +put his question with a fine irony, and the reply was apologetic. + +"Not sca'cely. Hit's jest so thet we kin tell Kinnard, we didn't pass +no house by, thet's all." + +The speaker and the ex-moonshiner were standing at the threshold of the +log shack. It was a place of a single, windowless room with a lean-to +kitchen--and above was the loft reached by a trap and ladder. + +"Come right in then," acceded Dog Tate with disarming readiness. "I +hain't got no _ex_cess of love fer Kinnard--but I've got yit less fer +still-busters." + +Far back where the shingle roof dropped steeply from ridge pole to edge +was a murky recess hidden behind a litter of old bedding, piled up +potatoes and onions. Silently listening and mercifully blotted into +shadow there, Bear Cat Stacy crouched with rifle-barrel thrust forward +and his finger caressing the trigger. + +The squad-leader looked about the place with perfunctory eye and then, +seeing the ladder, set his foot upon its lowest rung. + +Dog Tate felt a sudden commotion of hammering pulses, but his lids did +not flicker nor his mouth alter its line. Quite unostentatiously, +however, his wife moved toward the front door and stood there blankly +expressionless. Also, Dog laid his hand idly on the ladder as the +visitor climbed upward. If the search proved embarrassing he meant to +kick the support from under the Towers minion, and his wife meant to +bar the door for siege. + +But the intruder went only high enough to thrust his head into the +overhead darkness while a match flared and went out. He had seen +nothing, and as he stumped down again the poised finger relaxed on the +rifle trigger, and the Tates breathed free. + +"I'm obleeged ter ye," said the searching lieutenant. "Ef ye wants ter +start up yore still ergin, I reckon ye'll be safe. He won't be runnin' +wild fer long nohow." + + * * * * * + +The Quarterhouse emissaries were raking the hills with an admirable +thoroughness, running like a pack in full cry on the man trail, but +they did not again come so near the fringes of success as when they +missed the opportunity at Dog Tate's house. + +In spite of a watchfulness that gave eyes to the hills and ears to the +timber, their quarry left that house and went to his own. + +He had no intention of making the mad effort to remain there. The wild +tangle of cliff and forest was his safest refuge now--but there were +two things to be done at home. He wished to have for companionship in +exile his "Lincoln, Master of Men," and he wished to learn if out of +the wholesale desertion of yesterday there had not come back to him +even one or two followers. + +So that afternoon he slipped, undetected by his trailers, into and out +of his father's house; and there followed him, though each went singly +and casually to escape detection, some eight or ten men, who henceforth +were to be his secret followers and, he hoped, the nucleus of a larger +force. + +The next morning in both Stacy and Towers territory, hickories and +walnuts and sycamores burst into copper fruitage. The hills were alive +with armed search-parties, liquor-incited and vowing vengeance, yet +through their cordons he moved like some invisible and soundless +creature, striking and escaping while they raged. + +At ever-changing points of rendezvous he met and instructed his +mysterious handful of faithful supporters, struck telling blows--made +fresh raids and seemingly evaporated. + +From all that Towers could learn, it appeared that Bear Cat Stacy was +operating as a lone bandit. Yet the ground he seemed to cover +single-handed was so wide of boundary and his success so phenomenal +that already he was being hallowed, in country-side gossip, with +legendary and heroic qualities. In that Towers read a serious menace to +his own prestige; until he ground his teeth and swore sulphurously. He +organized a larger force of human hounds and fired them more hotly with +the incentive of liquor and greed for promised reward. The doors of Old +Lone Stacy's house, tenanted now only by the wife of the prisoner and +the mother of the refugee, were endlessly watched by unseen eyes. +Around the cabin where Jerry Henderson lay lingering with a tenuous +hold on life, lounged the men posted there by Joe Stacy, and back in +the timbered slopes that frowned down upon its roof crouched yet other +shapes of butter-nut brown; shapes stationed there at the behest of the +Quarterhouse. + +Going in and out among these would-be avengers and learning all their +plans, by dint of a pretendedly bitter hatred of Bear Cat Stacy, were +such men as Dog Tate and Joe Sanders, spying upon the spies. + +Old Bud Jason at his little tub-mill and Uncle Israel at his general +store secretly nodded their wise old heads and chuckled. They knew +that, hushed and undeclared, a strong sentiment was being born for the +boy who was outwitting scores of time-seasoned murder hirelings. But +they shook their heads, too--realizing the deadly odds of the game and +its tragic chances. + +One afternoon after a day sheeted in cold rain that sometimes merged +into snow, Bear Cat crept cautiously toward the sagging door of the +abandoned cabin which had, on another night, housed Ratler Webb. It had +been a perilously difficult day for the man upon whose head Towers had +set the price of a river-bottom farm. Like a hard-run fox he had +doubled back and forth under relentless pursuit and gone often to +earth. The only things they needed with which to harry him further were +bloodhounds. + +Now in the later afternoon he came to the cabin and sought a few +minutes' shelter there against the penetrating misery of rain and +sloppy snow that thawed as it fell. He dared not light a fire, and must +not relax the vigilance of his outlook. + +Just before sunset Bear Cat saw a man edging cautiously through the +timber, moving with a shadowy furtiveness--and recognized Joe Sanders. + +The newcomer slipped through the rotting lintels, bringing a face +stamped with foreboding. + +"Ye kain't stay hyar," announced the excited voice. "I don't hardly +know whar ye _kin_ go to nuther, onlessen' ye kin make hit back ter Dog +Tate's dwellin'-house by ther hill-trail." + +"Tell me all ye knows, Joe," directed Stacy with a steadying calmness, +and the other went on hurriedly: + +"They've done picked up yore trail--an' lost hit ergin--a couple of +miles back. They 'lows ye hain't fur off, an' thar's two score of 'em +out huntin'--all licker-crazed but yit not disabled none. Some of 'em +'lows ter come by hyar. I'm with a bunch thet's travelin' a diff'rent +route. They're spreadin' out like a turkey gobbler's tail feathers an' +combin' this territory plumb close. Above all don't go to'rds home. +Hit's thet way thet they's most numerous of all. I surmised I'd find ye +hyar an' I slipped by ter warn ye." + +"I'm obleeged ter ye, Joe. What's thet ye've got thar?" The last +question was prompted by the gesture with which Saunders, as if in +afterthought, thrust his hand into his coat pocket. + +"Hit hain't nuthin' but a letter Brother Fulkerson bid me give ter +ye--but thar hain't no time ter read hand-write now. Every minute's +wuth countless letters." + +But Turner Stacy was ripping the envelope. Already he had recognized +the clear, precise hand which had been the fruit of Blossom's arduous +efforts at self-education. + +"Don't tarry, man! I cautions ye they're already makin' ready ter +celebrate yore murder," expostulated the messenger, but Bear Cat did +not seem to hear him. In the fading light he was reading and rereading, +forgetful of all else. Joe Sanders, fixing him with a keen and +impatient scrutiny, noticed how gaunt were his cheeks and how +hollow-socketed his eyes. Yet as he began the letter there was a sudden +and eager hopefulness in his face which faded into misery as he +finished. + +"A famed doctor came up from Louisville," wrote Blossom. "He's done all +that could be done. He says now that only Jerry's great courage keeps +life in him and that can't avail for long. He hasn't been able to +talk--except for a few words. The longest speech was this: 'Send word +to Bear Cat--that I'm honester than he thinks.... I want to die with +his friendship ... or I can't rest afterwards....' He looked like he +wanted to tell something else and he named your father and your Uncle +Joe Stacy, but he couldn't finish. He keeps saying 'Stacy, you don't +understand.' What is it, that you don't understand, Turney? Can't you +slip over just long enough to shake hands with him? He wants you to do +it--and he's dying--and I love him. For my sake can't you come? Your +mother says you came once just to get a book--won't you do that much +for me? Blossom Henderson." + +Joe Sanders shuffled his feet in poignant disgust for the perilous +procrastination. Here was a man whose life hung on instant flight, yet +he stood with eyes wide and staring, holding before them a silly sheet +of paper. His lips whispered, "Blossom Henderson--_Henderson_--not +Fulkerson no more!" + +Then a wave of black resentment swept Bear Cat's face and he licked his +dry lips. "Joe," he said absently, "I hates him! I kain't shake his +hand. I tells ye I kain't do hit." + +"Whose hand?--don't shake hit, then," retorted Sanders irritably, and, +with a sudden start as though he had been rudely awakened while +prattling in his sleep, Bear Cat laughed bitterly. + +"Hit don't make no difference," he added shortly. "I war kinderly +talking ter myself. I reckon I'd better be leavin'." + +Hurrying through the timber, toward Dog Tate's house, Turner's mind was +in a vexed quandary and after a little he irresolutely halted. His +forehead was drawn and his lips were tight. "Blossom Henderson!" he +muttered. "God knows I took plentiful risks thet ye mout w'ar thet +name--an' yit--yit when I reads hit, seems like hit drives me plumb +ravin' mad!" + +From the tangle of dead briars the cold rain dripped desolately. A +single smear of lurid red was splashed across the west beyond the +silhouetted ridges. + +"They're aimin' ter head me off ef I goes to'rds home," he reflected in +a bitter spirit. "An' he wants thet I should fight my way through all +them enemies ter shake his hand--so thet he kin die easy. I reckon hit +don't make no manner of diff'rence how hard I dies myself." + +He covered his face with his hands and when he took them away he +altered his course, setting his steps in the direction of his own +house. + +"She said--fer _her_ sake," he repeated in a dazed voice, touched with +tenderness. "I reckon I've got ter undertake hit." + +Never before had the woods been so efficiently picketed. Never had the +net of relentless pursuit been so tight-drawn and close of mesh. For a +long distance he eluded its entanglement though at times, as it grew +dark, he saw the glimmer of lanterns whose portent he understood. + +But finally the clouds broke and a cold moon shone out to aid the pack +and cut to a forlorn hope the chances of the quarry. + +As Bear Cat went creeping from shadow to shadow he could hear faint +sounds of pursuit closing in upon him. He came at length upon a narrow +road that must be crossed and for a while he bent low, listening, then +stole forward, reassured. + +But as he reached the farther side, the black solidity of a hill-side +broke not in one but in several tongues of flame and the bark of three +rifles shattered the quiet. + +Bear Cat doubled back and cut again into the timber which he had left, +running now to put a margin of distance between himself and the greater +numbers. That fusillade and its echoes would bring other rifles and +reinforcements. + +After a few pantingly stressful minutes he found himself standing at +the lip of a steep bluff, and a roar of water beneath warned him that +the creek, some twenty feet below, had been swollen from a trickling +thread to a seething caldron. + +He gazed questioningly about, gauging his chances with swift +calculation, since there was no time for indecision. + +"I aimed ter come, Blossom," he breathed between his teeth, "but I've +done failed!" He stepped out to look over the ledge and for a moment +his figure was silhouetted in the open light. Then again the curtain of +blue-black shadow was shot through with fiery threads and a rifle +barked sharply, trailing a broken wake of echoes. + +Bear Cat Stacy's two hands went high above his head, his right still +clutching his rifle. He swayed for the duration of a breath, rocking on +his feet, then plunged forward and outward. + +The next morning, no worms were found hanging in the highway, but, back +at the Quarterhouse, Kinnard Towers turned in his hand a battered hat +that had been retrieved from floating drift. + +"Yes, I reckon thet's his hat," he commented after a close scrutiny. "I +reecollect seein' thet raw-hide thong laced round hit, endurin' his +speech over thar. Wa'al, he elected ter go chargin' amuck--an' he's +done reaped his harvest." + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + + +The story of Turner's death at unknown hands spread in the next few +days like wild fire. + +Whatever may have been the lack of sympathy for the young man's +undertakings of reform, it was now only remembered that he was a Stacy +who had been "dogged to his death" by Towers' minions, and ugly +rumblings of threat awoke along the water courses where his kinsmen +dwelt. + +It was voiced abroad that Jerry Henderson could not outlive that week: +that when he died, the body of Bear Cat Stacy would be buried with him, +and that, from those two graves, the Stacys would turn away to wreak a +sanguinary vengeance. + +Yet all this was the sheerest sort of rumor. No man had proof that a +Towers rifle had killed Turner--the man to whom his clan had looked for +leadership. No man had seen the body which his family was said to be +holding for that dramatic consignment to the earth. + +But in part the report found fulfilment. On Sunday afternoon Blossom +leaned over the quilt-covered figure of her dying husband to realize +that he was no longer dying but dead. + +"Speak ter me, Jerry," she cried as she dug her nails into her palms. +"Speak ter me--jest one time more." + +She sought to call out to her father, but her lips refused the service, +and as she came to her feet she stretched out her hands and crumpled, +insensible, to the floor. + +Brother Fulkerson went that afternoon to the saw-mill at the back of +Uncle Israel's store and stood by as the storekeeper himself sawed +planks and knocked together the crude box which must serve Jerry +Henderson as a casket. Later across the counter he bought some yards of +coarse cloth cut from a bolt of black calico, which was to be his +daughter's pathetic attempt at mourning dress. + +The afternoon of the funeral was unspeakably sullen and dismal. Clouds +of leaden dreariness hung to the bristling mountains, themselves as +gray as slate. Cold skies promised snow and through the bleak nakedness +of the forest whined the dirge-like complaint of a gusty wind. + +To the unkempt place of briar-choked and sunken graves, crawled a dingy +procession. + +Blossom would have preferred going with her dead unattended save by her +father, but that mountain usage forebade. A wedding or a funeral could +not be so monopolized in a land where there is frugally little to break +daily monotony. This funeral above all others, belonged in part to the +public, made pregnant with interest by the story that two bodies +instead of one would be laid to rest. The question of how Bear Cat +Stacy had come to his death would be answered over his open grave, and +men would know at the falling of the last clod whether they should +return quietly to their homes or prepare for the sterner task of +reprisal. + +Kinnard Towers must know, too, what happened there, and must know it +speedily, though to go himself or to send one of his recognized +lieutenants was beyond the question. Yet his plans were carefully laid. +Those few nondescripts who bore the repute of being Stacy sympathizers, +while in fact they were Towers informers, were to be present; and along +the miles of "slavish roughs" between Quarterhouse and burial-ground, +like runners in a relay race, were other heralds. When the news began +to come from the place it would travel fast. Sitting grimly behind the +closed stockade of the Quarterhouse and surrounded now not only by a +body-guard but by some scores of fighting men, the old intriguer +anxiously awaited the outcome. + +Long before the hour for the services had arrived men, as drab and +neutral in color as the sodden skies, and women wrapped in shawls of +red and blue, began to gather from hither and yon over roads mired to +the prohibition even of "jolt-wagons." They came on foot or on muddied +mules and horses with briar-tangled manes and tails--and having +arrived, they waited, shuffling their weary feet against frost-bite and +eddying in restless currents. + +Two men were still at work with shovels and they had spread out their +excavation so wide, in removing slabs of unbreakable rock, that the +place might have been a single, double or even a triple grave. + +The wind moaned as murky clouds began to spit snow, and then on the +gulch-washed road which climbed steeply, a little procession was +glimpsed in the distance. + +The men fondled their guns, but the cortege was lost again to view +behind a screen of cedars and until it turned finally on the level of +the graveyard itself, its details remained invested with the suspense +of expectancy. + +At the fore, when it arrived, was Brother Fulkerson astride his old +mare, and on a pillion behind him rode the "Widder Henderson," the +whiteness of her thin face startlingly accentuated by the unrelieved +lines of her black calico gown. Under her erstwhile vivid eyes lay dark +rings of suffering, but she held her head rigid and gazed straight +before her. + +The cortege came without the proper hush of due solemnity, for the +rough coffin that held Jerry Henderson's body was borne on a fodder +sledge and the stolid team of oxen that drew it required constant and +vociferous shouts and goading as they strained unwillingly against +their yokes. After the sledge trailed a dozen neighbors, afoot and +mounted; all plastered with mud--but the crowd caught its breath and +broke into a low murmur. There was only one casket! + +As the evangelist dismounted and lifted his daughter down, the men who +were there as observers for Kinnard Towers sought places near enough to +hear every syllable. + +Yet when the elderly preacher began to speak, while his daughter stood +with the dull apathy of one only half realizing, the faces of the crowd +mirrored a sort of sullen disappointment. For them the burial of the +man who was, after all, well-nigh a stranger, was secondary in +interest. It was in every material respect touching their lives and +deeper interests, Bear Cat's funeral they had come to attend. But on +that topic the bearded shepherd meant to give them no satisfaction. So +far he had made no mention of Bear Cat, and now he was concluding with +the injunction: "Let us pray." + +But as he bent his head, a woman standing near the foot of the grave +raised a hand that trembled with all the violence of superstitious +fear. From her thin lips broke a half-smothered shriek, not loud but +eerie and disconcerting, and she shrilled in terrorized notes, "Air +thet a specter I sees thar?" + +Many eyes followed the pointed finger and again a dismayed chorus of +inarticulate sound broke from the crowd. Just behind Blossom--herself +ghostlike in her white rigidness--had materialized a figure that had +not been there before. It was a gaunt figure whose face these people +had seen before only bronzed and aggressive. Now the cheek-bones stood +out in exaggerated prominence and the flesh was bloodlessly gray. +Though Bear Cat Stacy was present in the flesh his sudden +materialization there might well have startled a superstitious mind +into the thought that he had come not only from a bed of illness but +from one of death. Ignoring the sensation he had created, he spoke in a +whisper to the minister, and Brother Fulkerson made a quiet +announcement. + +"Hit hain't no ghost, sister. Turner Stacy hes been sore sick an' nigh +ter death, but hit's pleased ther Almighty ter spare him. Let us pray." + +A man near the grave began quietly working his way to the outer fringes +of the gathering, and when he had escaped immediate observation, he +went with hot haste. Kinnard must know of this. + +He had detected an undernote in that general murmur of astonishment, +which was clearly one of satisfaction. The Stacys had derived pleasure +in this ocular proof that Bear Cat was not dead. + +As the preacher said "Amen" Bear Cat bent tensely forward and caught +both of Blossom's hands in his own. "I kain't tarry," he said, "even +fer a leetle spell, but I wanted ye ter know thet I done my best ter +get hyar afore." + +She looked at him with dazed eyes which under the intensity of his gaze +slowly began to awaken into understanding. + +Turner went on eagerly, "I started over hyar as soon as I got yore +letter, but I was set upon an' wounded. I've been insensible well nigh +ever sence then." + +"Oh, Turney!" she whispered, as the grief which had held her in its +thrall of unrelieved apathy suddenly broke into an overflow of tears. +"Oh, Turney, I'm glad ye _tried_. He kept callin' fer ye. 'Peared like +he wanted to tell ye somethin'." The clods were falling dully on the +grave. + +The crowd held back, fretting against the edict of decorum, as the +voices rose in the miserable treble of song, to which two hounds added +their anguished howls. At the last words of the verse, an instant +clamor of question and discussion broke in eager storm--but Bear Cat +had melted into the thicket at his back. With the same mystifying +suddenness that had characterized his appearance, he had now +disappeared. + +Excited men rushed hither and thither, calling his name. They beat the +woods and tramped the roads, but with as little result as though he +had, in fact, appeared out of his grave and returned again to its +hiding. + +The story of that funeral was going with the pervasive swiftness of +wind throughout the country-side. It was being mouthed over in dark +cabins where toothless grannies and white-shocked grandsires wagged +their heads and recalled the manner of Bear Cat's birth. + + * * * * * + +When Joe Sanders had left Bear Cat that afternoon at the abandoned +cabin, it had been with the impression that Stacy meant to take the +path which he had advised; the only path that was not certainly closed +to his escape, and seek refuge at Dog Tate's house. He had found an +immediate opportunity to report that program to Dog himself, and Dog +sought to make use of it in Bear Cat's service. + +Tate, in recognition of his grievance as an outraged distiller, had +been given the leadership of one of the largest of the search parties, +which it was his secret purpose to lead far afield on a blind trail. +Inasmuch as Bear Cat had been specifically cautioned against going in +the direction of his own dwelling place, and yet since that would seem +a logical goal, Dog had maneuvered his hunters into territory between +the abandoned cabin and Little Slippery. + +He himself had been in the woods across the waters of the suddenly +swollen creek, when an outburst of rifle fire told him that something +had gone wrong and brought him running back to the guidance of that +musketry. + +He arrived at the edge of the swirling, drift-encumbered water in time +to see the silhouetted figure on the opposite bluff totter and plunge +head first into the moonlit whirlpool. Dog knew that he was the only +man on that side of the stream, but any effort to plunge in and try for +a rescue would mean death to himself without hope of saving the man who +had fallen. As he watched he made out what seemed to be the lifeless +body come to the surface, to be swept in a rushing circle and, as +chance would have it, to catch and hang lodged in a mass of floating +dead-wood. The creek at ordinary times ran shallow and though it was +gushing now beyond its normal borders it was still not wide. The +deadwood swirled, raced forward, and fouled the out-jutting root of a +giant sycamore. + +Dog Tate crawled out along the precarious support of the slimy rootage +and slowly drew the mass of drift into shallow water. It was tedious +work since any violent tugging might loosen the lightly held tangle and +send the body floating away unbuoyed. + +The night was all a thing of blue and silver moonlight and sooty +shadows, but under the muddy bulwark at the base of the overhanging +sycamore the velvet denseness of impenetrable black prevailed. + +Once Dog saw figures outlined on the bluff from which Bear Cat had +fallen, and had to lie still for the seeming of hours, trusting to the +favor of the shadow. + +Eventually he succeeded in drawing the mass of flotsam shoreward until +he could wade in to the shallows, chancing the quicksands that were +tricky there. Then he stumbled up the bank with his burden and +deposited it between two bowlders where without daylight it would +hardly be found. Dog was thinking fast, now. + +He did not yet know whether he had saved a living man or retrieved a +dead body, but his eagerness for investigation on that score must wait. +Now he must rejoin the chase and turn it away from such dangerous +nearness to its quarry. + +So Tate ran down the bank and shouted. Voices replied and figures +became visible on the farther shore. + +"I seed him fall in," came the mendacious assurance of the man who was +playing two parts. "I waded in atter him--but he went floatin' on down +stream." + +"Did he look like he mout be alive?" was the anxious query and the +reply came as promptly. "He had every seemin' of bein' stone dead." + +For a while they searched the banks, until, having discovered the hat, +they decided to go back and let the final hunt for the body wait until +morning. + +But Dog had gone home and roused Joe Sanders, who had come in about +midnight from another group of searchers, and the two of them had +slipped back and recovered the limp burden--to find it still alive. +Between midnight and dawn they carried Bear Cat to the house of Bud +Jason. The wound this time had glanced the skull, bringing +unconsciousness but no fracture. The shock and the hours of lying wet +in the freezing air had resulted in something like pneumonia, and for +days Bear Cat had lain there in fever and delirium. + +But the old miller had held grimly on despite the danger of discovery, +and his woman had nursed with her rude knowledge of herbs, until the +splendid reserve of strength, that had already been so prodigally +taxed, proved itself still adequate. He had raved, they told him later, +of shaking hands with someone whom he hated. + +"Hev ye raided any more stills?" demanded Bear Cat when at last he had +been able to talk, and Dog, who had been in every day, grinned: + +"We 'lowed thet could wait a spell," he assured the crusader. "We had +our hands right full es hit war." + +But the morning following Jerry Henderson's funeral, two more coils of +copper were discovered aloft, and one of the men who had composed +Kinnard's relay of messengers was liberated at daybreak after spending +several tedious and unsatisfactory hours lashed to a dog-wood sapling. + + * * * * * + +If Kinnard Towers had raged before, now he fumed. Heretofore, it had +been a condition of open war or one of acknowledged, even if +precarious, peace. This was a mongrel situation which was neither the +one nor the other, and every course was a dangerous one. The Stacys +held their counsel, neither sanctioning the incorrigible black sheep of +their flock in open declaration, nor yet totally relinquishing their +right to avenge him, if an outside hand fell upon him. Meanwhile, the +fiction of this young trouble-maker's charmed life was arousing the +superstitious to its acceptance as a sort of powerful fetish. + +The very name Bear Cat was beginning to fall from the lips of +tow-headed children, with open-mouthed awe, like a term of witchcraft, +and this candid terror of children was, of course, only a reflection of +the unconfessed, yet profound impression, stamped upon the minds of +their elders. + +"What ails everybody hyarabouts?" rumbled Kinnard over his evening +pipe. "Heretofore when a man needed killin' he's been kilt--an' thet's +all thar was ter hit. This young hellion walks inter sure death traps +an' walks out ergin. He falls over a clift inter a ragin' torrent--an' +slips through an army of men. In Satan's name, what air hit?" + +Black Tom's rejoinder was not cheering: "Ef ye asks me, I think all +these stories of witchcraft, backed up by his luck, hes cast a spell on +folks. They thinks Bear Cat's in league with grave-yard spooks." + +Kinnard knocked the ashes out of his pipe. His lips curled +contemptuously. "An' es fer yoreself--does you take stock in thet damn' +foolery, too?" + +"I hain't talkin' erbout myself," retorted Tom sullenly. "Ye asked +erbout what folks was cogitatin' an' I'm a-tellin' ye. If ye don't +believe thar's a notion thet graves opens an' ther dead fights with +him, jest go out an' talk ter these benighted hill-billies yoreself. If +evidence air what ye wants, ye'll git a lavish of hit." + +Those who were in Bear Cat's confidence constituted a close +corporation, and they were not all, like Dog and Joe, men who mixed +also with the enemy, gaining information while they railed against +their own leader. There was talk of secret and mysterious meetings held +at midnight by oath-bound men--to whom flowed a tide of recruits. + +Kinnard believed these meetings to be a part of the general myth. His +crude but effective secret service could gather no tangible evidence in +support of their storied sessions. + +One evening report drifted in to the Quarterhouse that some one had +seen Bear Cat Stacy at a point not far distant, and that he had been +boldly walking the open road--unaccompanied. Within the hour a party +was out, supplied with jugs and bottles enough to keep the vengeful +fires well fueled throughout the night. It was an evil-looking squad, +and its appearance was in no wise deceptive. Its members, all save one, +had begun their evening at the Quarterhouse bar. The one exception was +George Kelly, a young man recently married, who had gone there to talk +other business with Towers. George had an instinctive tendency toward +straightforwardness, but he had also an infirmity of character which +caused him to follow where a more aggressive nature led--and he had +fallen under Kinnard's domination. His small tract of tillable land was +mortgaged, and Kinnard held over him the lash of financial supremacy. +He could fight, but he could not argue, and when the unofficial posse +was sent out that night, being in the place, he lacked the courage to +refuse participation. + +They had found the footprints of the fugitive and had met two men who +claimed to have seen him in the flesh, but Bear Cat himself had eluded +them and near midnight they halted to rest. They threw themselves down +in a small rock-walled basin which was broken at one point by a narrow +gorge, through which they had come. It was a good place to revel in +after labor because it was so shut-in that the bonfire they kindled +could not be far seen. The jugs were opened and passed around. It had +set in to rain, and though they could endure that bodily discomfort +while they had white liquor, their provident souls took thought against +the rusting of their firearms. The guns were accordingly placed under a +ledge of rock a few feet distant, all save one. Kelly lacking the +buoyant courage of drunkenness, preferred to keep his weapon close at +hand. He listened moodily and unresponsively to the obscene stories and +ribald songs, which elicited thick peals of laughter from his +companions. They had hunted hard, and now they were wassailing hard. +The long march home would sober them so they need not restrain their +appetites. + +Some impulse led Kelly to raise his eyes from the sordid picture in the +red waver of the fire and glance toward the doorlike opening of the +gorge. The eyes remained fixed--and somehow the rifle on his knees did +not come up, as it should have done. A figure stood there silently, +contemptuously looking on, and it was as gaunt and gray as that of a +foraging wolf. It was as lean and sinewy, too, and out of the face +glowed a pair of eyes dangerously narrow and glittering. + +Then with a scornful laugh the figure stepped forward, bending lithely +from the waist, with two steel-steady hands gripping two automatic +pistols at its front. + +"War you boys a-sarchin' fer me?" demanded Bear Cat and the trailing +voices, that had been drunkenly essaying close harmony, broke off +mid-verse. "Stay right whar ye're at, every mother's son of ye!" came +the sharp injunction. "The man thet stirs air a dead man. This hain't +no play-party thet I've done come ter." + +They sat suddenly silent, abruptly surly and helpless; all save one. +George Kelly was still armed, and sitting somewhat apart. Beseechingly +his companions sought by covert glance to signal him that he should +avail himself of his armed advantage while they continued to distract +the newcomer's attention. + +Bear Cat's pistols broke out and two treasured jugs were shattered. + +"Jim Towers," came the raspingly dictatorial order, "when ye goes back +ter ther Quarterhouse ye kin tell Kinnard Towers thet Bear Cat Stacy +hain't ter be captured by no litter of drunkards. Tell him he mout es +well hire sober murderers or else quit." + +As Towers sat glowering and silent, Stacy's voice continued in its +stinging contempt. + +"You damned murder hirelings, does ye think thet I'm ter be tuck +prisoner by sneakin' weasels like you?" + +George Kelly had sat silent. Now he rose to his feet, and Stacy ordered +curtly, "Lay down thet gun, George. Ye're ther only man I'm astonished +ter see hyar. I 'lowed ye war better then a hired assassin." + +From someone came thick-tongued exhortation, "Git him, Kelly, you've +got a gun. Git ther damn' parson." + +In the momentary centering of Bear Cat's attention upon George, some +one slipped with a cat-like furtiveness of motion back into the thicker +darkness--toward the cached rifles. + +Then a strange thing happened. + +George Kelly wheeled, ignoring the order to drop his weapon, but +instead of pointing it at the lone invader he leveled it across the +fire-lit circle. + +"Stop thet!" he yelled. "Leave them rifle-guns be or I aims ter shoot." + +Surprise was following on surprise, and the half-befuddled faces of the +drinkers went blank with perplexity and incredulity. + +"What ther hell does ye mean? What did ye come out with us fer?" +demanded a shrill voice, and Kelly's response spat back at him +viciously. "I means thet what Bear Cat says are true es text. I mean +thet 'stid of seekin' ter kill him, I'm a-goin' along with him. I've +done been a slave ter Kinnard Towers long enough--an' right now I aims +ter quit." + +"Shell we tell Kinnard thet?" demanded Jim Towers dryly. + +"Tell him any damn' thing ye likes. I'm through with him," and turning +toward the astonished Stacy, he added, "I reckon we've done all we +needs ter do hyar. We've busted thar bottles--an' thet's ter say we've +busted thar hearts. Let's leave." + +But Bear Cat's face was still grim and his words came with a +clear-clipped sharpness. "Not yit.... They've still got some guns over +thar.... I'll hold 'em where they're huddled, steady es a bird-dog. You +git them guns." + +George Kelly went circumspectly around the circumference of the fire +and started back again, bearing an armful of rifles. At one point he +had to pass so close to the dejectedly hulking shoulders of a seated +figure that his knee brushed the coat--and at that instant the man +swept out his hand and jerked violently at the passing ankle. + +Kelly did not go down, but he lunged stumblingly, and scattered weapons +broke from his grasp. Even then he had the quickness of thought to +throw them outward toward Bear Cat's feet and leaped side-wise himself, +still clinging to one that had not fallen. + +Taking advantage of the excitement Jim Towers sought to recover his +feet--and almost succeeded. But with a readier agility Bear Cat leaped +and his right hand, still gripping the pistol, swept outward in an arc. +Under a blow that dropped him unconscious and bleeding from a face laid +open as if by a shod hoof, Towers collapsed, scattering red embers as +he fell. + +Two others were on their feet now, but, facing Stacy's twin pistols and +the rifle in the hands of their deserter, they gauged the chances and +without a word stretched their hands high above their heads. + +"Now well tek up a collection--of guns--once more," directed Stacy, +"an' leave hyar." + +As two men backed through the gorge into darkness, out of which only +one had come, a murder party, disarmed and mortified, shambled to its +respective feet and busied itself with a figure that lay insensible +with its head among the scattered embers. + +"George," said Turner a half hour later, "ye come ter me when I needed +ye right bad--but hit's mighty unfortunate thet ye hed ter do hit jest +thet way. Ye're ther only man I've got whose name is beknownst ter +Kinnard Towers--an' next ter me, thar won't be a man in ther hills +harder dogged. Ye hain't been married long--an' ye dastn't go home +now." + +George Kelly shook his head. "I'm in hit now up ter my neck--an' thar +hain't no goin' back. Afore they hes ther chanst ter stop me though, +I'm goin' by home ter see my woman, an' bid her fare over ter her folks +in Virginny." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + + +Bear Cat Stacy had gone with George Kelly to the house where his wife +was awaiting him that night, and though he had remained outside while +the husband went in, it was not hard to guess something of what took +place. The wife of only a few months came out a little later with eyes +that were still wet with tears, and with what things she was going to +take away with her, wrapped in a shawl. She stood by as George Kelly +nailed slats across the door. Already she had put out the fire on the +hearth, and about her ankles a lean cat stropped its arched back. + +Bear Cat had averted his face, but he heard the spasmodic sob of her +farewell and the strange unmanning rattle in the husband's throat. + +It was a new house, of four-squared logs, recently raised by the kindly +hands of neighbors, amid much merry-making and well-wishing and it had +been their first home together. + +Now it was no longer a place where they could live. For the man it +would henceforth be a trap of death, and the wife could not remain +there alone. It stood on ground bought from Kinnard Towers--and not yet +paid for. + +Kelly and his wife paused by the log foot-bridge which spanned the +creek at their yard fence. In the gray cheerlessness, before dawn, the +house with its stark chimney was only a patch of heavier shadow against +ghostly darkness. They looked back on it, with wordless regret, and +then a mile further on the path forked, and the woman clutched wildly +at her husband's shoulders before she took one way and he the other. + +"Be heedful of yoreself, George," was all she said, and the man +answered with a miserable nod. + +So Kelly became Turner's companion in hiding, denied the comfort of a +definite roof, and depending upon that power of concealment which could +only exist in a forest-masked land, heaped into a gigantic clutter of +cliffs and honey-combed with natural retreats. + +But two days after his wife's departure, he was drawn to the place that +had been his home by an impulse that outweighed danger, and looked down +as furtively as some skulking fox from the tangled elevation at its +back. + +Then in the wintry woods he rose and clenched his hands and the muscles +about his strong jaw-bones tightened like leather. + +The chimney still stood and a few uprights licked into charred +blackness by flame. His nostrils could taste the pungent reek of a +recent fire upon whose debris rain had fallen. For the rest there was a +pile of ashes, and that surprising sense of smallness which one +receives from the skeleton of a burned house, seemingly at variance +with the dignity of its inhabited size. + +"Hit didn't take 'em long ter set hit," was his only comment, but +afterward he slipped down and studied upon the frozen ground certain +marks that had been made before it hardened. He found an empty kerosene +can--and some characteristics, marking the tracks of feet, that seemed +to have a meaning for him. So Kelly wrote down on the index of his +memory two names for future reference. + +It had occurred to Mark Tapper, the revenue agent, that the activities +of Bear Cat Stacy constituted a great wastage, bringing no material +profit to anyone. He himself was left in the disconcerting attitude of +a professional who sees his efforts fail while an amateur collects +trophies. Before long the fame of recent events would cease to be +local. The talk would be borne on wayfaring tongues to the towns at the +ends of the rails and some local newspaper correspondent, starving on +space rates, would discover in it a bonanza. Here ready-made was the +story of an outlaw waging a successful war on outlawry. It afforded an +intensity of drama which would require little embellishment. + +If such a story went to press there would be news editors quick to +dispatch staff correspondents to the scene and from somewhere on the +fringes of things these scribes would spill out columns of saffron +melodrama. All these matters worked through the thoughts of Mark Tapper +as preliminary and incidental. His part in such publicity would be +unpleasant. His superiors would ask questions, difficult to answer, as +to why he, backed--in theory--with the power of the government had +failed where this local prodigy had made the waysides bloom with +copper. + +Decidedly he must effect a secret coalition with Bear Cat Stacy. If he +could make some such arrangement as he already had with Towers, it +might work out to mutual satisfaction. It might be embarrassing for +Bear Cat to raid his kinsmen. It was equally so for Tapper to raid +Towers' favorites. But by exchanging information they could both obtain +results as harmonious as the arrangement of Jack Spratt and his wife. +It was all a very pretty scheme for double-and-triple-crossing--but the +first difficulty was in seeing Bear Cat himself. + +Finally Mark decided to mail a letter to his man. For all his hiding +out it was quite likely that there was a secret line of communication +open between his shifting sanctuary and his home. He wrote tactfully +inviting Turner to meet him across the Virginia line where he would be +safe from local enemies. He gave assurance that he had no intention of +serving any kind of summons and that he would come to the meeting place +unaccompanied. He held out the bait of using his influence toward a +dismissal of the prosecution against Bear Cat's father. Then he waited. + +In due time he received a reply in Bear Cat's own hand. + +"Men that want to see me must come to me. I don't go to them," was the +curt reply. "I warn you that it will be a waste of time, but if you +will come to the door of the school-house at the forks of Skinflint and +Little Slippery at nine o'clock Tuesday night there will be somebody to +meet you, and bring you to me. If you are not alone or have spies +following you, your trouble will be for naught. You won't see anybody. +Bear Cat Stacy." + +At the appointed time and in strict compliance with the designated +conditions Mark Tapper stood at the indicated point. + +At length a shadow, unrecognizable in the night, gradually detached +itself from the surrounding shadows and a low voice commanded, "Come +on." + +Mark Tapper followed the guide whose up-turned collar and down-drawn +hat would have shielded his features even had the darker cloak of the +night not done so. After fifteen minutes spent in tortuous twisting +through wire-like snarls of thorn, the voice said: "Stand quiet--an' +wait." + +Left alone, the revenuer realized that his guide had gone back to +assure himself that no spies were following at a distance. Tapper knew +this country reasonably well, but at the end of an hour he confessed +himself lost. Finally he came out on a narrow plateau-like level and +heard the roar of water far below him. He saw, too, what looked like a +window cut in the solid night curtain itself. Then the shadow-shape +halted. "Go on in thar," it directed, and with something more like +trepidation than he cared to admit, Tapper groped forward, felt for the +doorstep with his toe and rapped. + +"Come in," said a steady voice, and again he obeyed. + +He stood in an empty cabin and one which had obviously been long +tenantless. A musty reek hung between the walls, but on the hearth +blazed a hot fire. The wind sent great volumes of choking smoke eddying +back into the room from the wide chimney and gusts buffeted in, too, +through the seams of the rotting floor. + +Bear Cat Stacy stood before the hearth alone and seemingly unarmed. He +had thrown aside his coat and his arms were folded across a chest still +strongly arched. His eyes were boring into the visitor with a +gimlet-like and disconcerting penetration. + +"Wa'al," came his crisp interrogation, "what does ye want of me?" + +"I wanted to talk things over with you, Stacy," began the revenuer, and +the younger man cut him short with an incisive interruption. + +"Don't call me Stacy. Call me Bear Cat. Folks round hyar gave me thet +name in derision, but I aims ter make hit ther best knowed an' ther +wust feared name in ther hills. I aims ter be knowed by hit +henceforth." + +"All right, Bear Cat. You and I are doing the same thing--from +different angles." The visitor paused and drew closer to the fire. He +talked with a difficult assumption of ease, pointing out that since +Bear Cat had recognized and declared war on the curse of illicit +distilling, he should feel a new sympathy for the man upon whom the +government imposed a kindred duty. He had hoped that Bear Cat would +make matters easier by joining in the talk, but as he went on, he +became uncomfortably aware that the conversation was a monologue--and a +strained one. + +Stacy stood gazing at him with eyes that seemed to punch holes in his +sham of attitude. When the revenuer paused silence lay upon the place +until he himself broke it. + +Finally Tapper reached a lame conclusion, but he had not yet dared to +suggest the thing he had come to broach, the arrangement whereby the +two of them were to divide territory, and swap betrayals of confidence. + +"Air ye done talkin' now?" The question came with the restrained +iciness of dammed-up anger. + +"Well--I guess so. Until you answer what I've already said." + +"Then I'll answer ye right speedily. I'm bustin' stills like a man +blasts up rock thet bars a road: ter make way fer highways an' schools. +_You_ raid stills like Kinnard Towers' men commit murder--fer hire. I +reckon thar hain't no common ground thet we two kin stand on. Ye lives +by treachery an' blood money. Yore saint air Judas Iscariot an' yore +God air Gain. I hunts open, an'--though ye won't skeercely comprehend +my meanin'--thar's a dream back of what I'm doin'--a big dream." + +Mark Tapper flushed brick red, and rose. + +"Bear Cat," he said slowly. "Your father lies in jail waiting trial. I +can do a heap to help him--and a heap to hurt him. You'd better think +twice before you turn me away with insults." + +Turner's voice hardened and his eyes became menacing slits. + +"Yes--he lays in jail because Kinnard Towers bartered with ye ter jail +him, but I hain't a-goin' ter barter with ye ter free him. Ye talks of +turnin' ye away with insult--but I tells ye now hit's all I kin do ter +turn ye away without killin' ye." + +Stacy was unarmed and Mark's own automatic pistol was in his coat +pocket. He should have known better, but the discovery that somehow +Bear Cat Stacy had learned his complicity in a murder plot blinded him +with an insane fury of fear and the hand leaped, armed, from its +pocket. + +"Ef I war you," suggested Bear Cat, who had not moved the folded arms +on his chest, "I wouldn't undertake no vi'lence--leastways tell I'd +looked well about me. Hev a glance at that trap overhead--an' them two +doors." + +Already the officer, with deep chagrin, recognized his folly. The open +trap of the loft bristled with rifle mouths. The two doors which had a +moment before been closed were now open and showed other muzzles +peeping through, but who the men behind the guns might be, there was no +indication--and there had been no sound. + +"I didn't need ter show them guns--jest fer you," said Bear Cat slowly. +"A man don't hardly need ter call his folks tergether ter fight a +skunk--but I knowed thet ye'd go back ter Kinnard Towers, an' I'd jest +as lief hev ye name hit ter him, thet ye didn't find me hyar all by +myself." He paused and then the cold contempt of his manner gave way to +a more explosive anger. + +"I aims ter furnish ye with a lantern an' one of my men will start ye +on yore road.... I wants ter see thet lantern goin' over ther hill-top +plumb outen sight--an' I don't want ter see hit hesitate whilst hit +goes. Ef hit does pause--or ef ye ever comes back ter me ergin with any +proffer of partnership, so holp me God Almighty, I'll send yore scalp +ter Washin'ton with my regards ter ther government." He pointed a +peremptory finger to the front door. "Now, damn ye, begone an' go +swiftly!" + +Outside Tapper saw a lantern moving, but revealing no face. He knew +that it was attached to a long pole and that one side was masked--the +hill device of men who need light for their footsteps yet seek to avoid +becoming conspicuous--and he followed its glimmer until a voice said, +"I reckon ye kin go yore own route from hyar--yon way lies ther high +road. Ye kin tek ther lantern with ye." + + * * * * * + +Blossom who, until a few weeks ago, had been thought of as a lovely +child, was now the "Widder Henderson" to all who spoke her name. The +people she met accosted her with a lugubrious sympathy which was hard +to bear, so that she hastened by with a furtive shyness and an anxiety +to be left alone. Every day she made her pilgrimage to the graveyard to +lay freshly cut evergreens on the grave there, and the rabbit that had +its nest deep under the thorns sat on its haunches regarding her with a +frank curiosity devoid of fear. He seemed to recognize a kinship of shy +aloofness between them which need not set even his most timorous of +hearts into a flutter. + +Yet although she was the "Widder Henderson," who had experienced the +bitter fate of so many mountain wives, she was after all, in years and +in experience, a child. + +Until a little while ago--a very little while--she had sung with the +birds and her spirits had sparkled with the sunshine that flashed back +from woodland greenery. Life had seemed a simple thing with the rainbow +promise of romance lying somewhere ahead. Then Turner had awakened her +to a conception of adult love--a conception which might have satisfied +all her dreams had not Jerry Henderson come to dazzle her and alter her +standards of comparison. Henderson had, as even his critic at the club +admitted, that "damned charm" that is seductively indefinable yet +potent, and what had been "damned charm" to the clubman's +sophistication was a marvelous and prodigal wonder to the mountain +girl. He had wooed her passionately in the shadow of death. He had come +back to her through the shadow of death, and left her to go, not only +into its shadow, but its grimly mysterious reality. Now he was not only +her hero but also her martyr. + +Mountain children know little of Christmas, except that it is often a +period of tragedy, since then men ride wildly with pistol and jug, and +hilarity turns too often to homicide. But one Christmas legend the +children do know: that on the night and at the hour of the Saviour's +birth the cattle kneel in homage and the sere elder bushes, for a brief +matter of miraculous minutes, break into a foam of bloom. + +Blossom clung to that beautiful parable, even now finding comfort in +its sentiment, as she stood among the untended graves. + +"I wonder now," she speculated, nodding her head wistfully toward the +inquisitive cotton-tail that sat wriggling its diminutive nose, "I +wonder now ef it would be _wrong_ to put some elder branches here +Christmas eve so thet--that--if they does bloom--I mean _do_ +bloom--they'd be nigh him?" + +"Howdy, Blossom," accosted a voice and the girl looked up startled. +Lone Stacy's wife stood at the thicketed edge of the burial-ground, +gazing at her, with eyes less friendly than their former wont. + +The girl-widow came slowly forward, trying to smile, but under that +unblinking stare she felt unhappy, and the older woman went on with a +candid bluntness. + +"La! Ye've done broke turrible, hain't ye? An' ye used ter be ther +purtiest gal hyarabouts, too." + +"It's been--hard times fer me," Blossom answered faintly. + +"Hit's done been right hard times fer all of us, I reckon," came the +uncompromising rejoinder, "but thet hain't no proper cause ter ketch +yore death of grave-yard damp," and with that admonition, Mrs. Stacy +went on her way. + +Blossom stood silently looking after her, wondering vaguely why that +almost resentful note of hardness had rasped in her voice. + +"I haven't done nothin'--anything, I mean," she murmured in distress. +"Why did she look at me that way, I wonder." Then suddenly she +understood. That was just it. She had not done anything. The old woman +was alone; her husband in prison and her son hunted from hiding place +to hiding place like some beast dogged to death, and she, the girl who +had always been like a daughter in that house, had been too stunned by +her own sorrow to take account of her neighbor's distress. + +Mrs. Stacy had always expected that Blossom's children would be her +grandchildren. Turner had been wounded in defense of Jerry Henderson. +Into the girl's memory flashed a picture with a vivid completeness +which had failed to impress her in its just proportions at the time of +its reality. Then her eyes had been engrossed with one figure in the +group to the exclusion of all others. Now in retrospect she could +visualize the trio that had stumbled through the door of her house, +when they brought Jerry Henderson in. She could see again the way Bear +Cat had reeled and braced himself against the wall, and the stricken +wretchedness of his face. + +Slowly the tremendous self-effacement of his generosity began to dawn +upon her, and to sting her with self-reproach. + +So long as she lived she felt that her heart was dead to any love save +that for the man in the grave, but to the old comradeship--to the +gratitude for such a friendship as few women had ever had--she would no +longer be recreant. No wonder that Turner's mother looked at her with +tightly pressed lips and hostile eyes. She would go over there and do +what she could to make amends and alleviate the loneliness of a house +emptied of its men; a house over which hung the unlifting veil of +terror, which saw in the approach of every passer-by a possible herald +of tragedy. + + * * * * * + +Uncle Israel Calvert sat alone by the small red-hot stove of his +way-side store late in the afternoon. He was half dozing in his +hickory-withed chair, and it was improbable that any customer would +arouse him. A wild day of bellowing wind was spending itself in gusty +puffs and the promise of blizzard, while a tarnished sun sank into +lurid banks of cloud-threat. + +Uncle Israel's pipe had gone out, though it still hung precariously +between his clean-shaven jaws and his white poll fell drowsily forward +from time to time. He listened between cat-naps to the voice of the +storm and mumbled to himself. "I reckon nobody won't come in +ter-night--leastways nobody thet hain't hurtin' powerful bad fer some +plumb needcessity." + +Then he fell again to dozing. + +The rush of wind through a door suddenly opened, and closed, roused +him, and seeing the figure of a man on the threshold, Uncle Israel came +to his feet with a springy quickness of amazement. + +"Bear Cat!" he exclaimed. "Hell's blazes, man, whar did ye drap from?" +But at the same moment he went discreetly to the window and, since the +shutters hinged from outside, hastily hung two empty jute sacks across +the smeared panes. + +"Uncle Israel," Bear Cat spoke with the brevity of one in haste, as he +tossed a wet rubber poncho and black hat to the counter, "hev ye got +any black cloth on them shelves?" + +The storekeeper went ploddingly around the counter and began inspecting +his wares, rubbing his chin as he peered through the dim lamp-light. + +"Wa'al now," he pondered, "let's see. I've got jest what ye mout call a +scant remainder of this hyar black domestic. I don't keep no great +quantity because thar hain't no severe call fer hit--save fer them +women-folks thet affects mournin'. Ther Widder Henderson bought most of +what I had a few days back." + +Bear Cat Stacy flinched a little, but the old man had his face to his +shelves and did not see that. + +"Ye'd better lay in a stock then," said Turner curtly. "Henceforth +thar's liable ter be _more_ demand." + +Something in the tone made Uncle Israel turn sharply. "Does ye mean fer +mournin'?" he demanded, and the reply was enigmatical. + +"Mebby so--but fer another kind of mournin' then what ye hev in mind, I +reckon. These hills has a plenty ter mourn about. I reckon ye'll heer +tell of this black cloth again." + + * * * * * + +It was a night when cabin doors were tight-barred and when families +huddled indoors, drawing close to the fires that roasted their faces +while their backs were cold from wind hissing through the chinks in +wall and puncheon flooring. + +Even the drag net of Kinnard Towers' search lay idle to-night in the +icy grip of the storm. + +Through the wildness of shrieking winds, lashing the tree-tops, some +men said that they heard ghostly incantations like the chant of a great +company of restless spirits. + +Jim Towers, who had been knocked sprawling into his own bonfire before +the eyes of his myrmidons, was feeling somewhat appeased in spirit +to-night. He dwelt in a two-story house so weatherproof that, for him, +the tempest remained an external matter. To-night he had with him some +half-dozen friends who had come for counsel earlier in the day and whom +the storm had interned there for the night. They were all men who had +been with him on the expedition that had gone awry when George Kelly +had deserted. Now, as then, the company was defeating tedium with +wassail. The drab woman who was Jim's wife, and his slave, had fed them +all to repletion with "side-meat" and corn pone and gravy, and had +withdrawn to a chair apart, where she sat forgotten. + +They had been cursing Bear Cat Stacy and George Kelly until their +invectives had been exhausted and the liquor had warmed them into a +cheerier mood in which they planned spectacular and complete reprisal. + +"Es fer Kelly, I reckon he's got his belly full an' bustin' already," +boasted Jim Towers with an unpleasant chuckle. "Charlie Reverdy, hyar, +an' me hes seen ter thet right fully. In ther place whar his +dwellin'-house stood thar hain't nothin' left but jest a pile of ashes. +He dastn't show his face in ther open--an' in due time Kinnard aims ter +fo'close on ther ground hitself." + +"George Kelly hain't ther only man thet's aidin' an' abettin' him, +though," demurred a saturnine guest, whose hair grew down close to his +eyebrows. "No man knows how many low-down sons of hussies he's got with +him." + +Jim Towers laughed and poured from jug to tin-cup. "A single fox kin +hide out whar a pack of wolves would hev ter shew themselves," he said. +"I estimate thet he's got mebby a half dozen--an' afore long now we'll +hev ther hides of ther outfit nailed up an' dryin' out." + +At length the host arose and stretched his arms sleepily. "I reckon +hit's mighty nigh time ter lay down," he suggested, and as yawning lips +assented he added, "Be quiet a minute--I want ter listen. 'Pears like +ther storm's done plumb spent hitself an' abated." + +A silence fell upon them, and then as an uncanny and inexplicable sound +came to their ears, they stood transfixed, and into their bewilderment +crept an unconfessed hint of panic. Their eyes dilated as though they +had been confronted by an apparition, and yet none of them was +accounted timorous. + +"Hell an' tormint, what _air_ thet?" whispered Jim Towers in a hissing +undertone. + +They all fell into attitudes of concentrated attention--bent forward +and listening. Out in the night where there had been only the lashing +of wind, rose a swell of song, bursting confidently and ominously from +human throats. It sounded like a mighty chorus carried on the lips of a +marching host, and with its martial assurance it brought a terrifying +menace. + +"I've heered thet song afore," quavered the woman, whose lips were +ashen as she rose out of her obscurity. "Hit's called ther Battle +Hymn--my daddy l'arned hit in ther war over slavery ... hit says +su'thin 'bout 'My eyes hes seed ther Glory of ther comin' of ther +Lord!'" + +"Shet up, woman," commanded her husband, roughly. "I'm a-listenin'." + +Towers braced himself against a nameless foreboding and went cautiously +to the door, picking up his rifle on the way. The other men, +instinctively drifted toward their weapons, too, though they felt it to +be as futile a defense as arming against ghosts. + +Soon the master of the house was back, with a face of greenish pallor. +He licked his lips and stammered in his effort at speech. + +"I kain't ... in no fashion ... make hit out--" he admitted. "Thar's a +host of torches comin' hither.... They're flamin' like es ef hell +hitself war a-marchin' in on us!" + +The woman threw herself down on her knees and fell into hysterical and +incoherent prayer. + +For a little space the men stood irresolute, divided between a wild +impulse to seek hiding in the timber and a sentiment in favor of +pinning their trust to the strength of solid walls and barred doors. + +But upon their jarred nerves the great volume of sound, crashing nearer +and nearer, beat like a gathering flood. + +Turning out the lamp and half-smothering the fire, Jim Towers stole +noiselessly to the back door and opened it to a narrow slit. He thrust +forth his head and drew it back again as precipitately as though it had +been struck by a fist. + +"What did ye see?" came the whispered interrogation from stiff lips, +and the man hoarsely gasped out his response. + +"Thar was--a black ghost standin' thar--black as sin from head ter +foot. He held a torch, an' each side of him stood another one jest like +him--Good God! I reckon hit's jedgment day an' nothin' less!" + +The woman had slipped out of sight, but now she came lurching back in +wild terror. + +"I peeked outen a winder," she whimpered. "Thar's score on' score of +men--or sperrits out thar--all black as midnight. They've got torches +flamin'--but they hain't got no faces--jest black skulls! Oh--Lord, +fergive my sins!" + +Then upon front and back doors simultaneously came a loud rapping, and +the men inside fell into a rude circle, as quail hover at night with +eyes out-turned against danger. + +"I'm Bear Cat Stacy," came a voice of stentorian command. "Open the +doors--and drop yore guns. We don't seek ter harm no women ner +children." + +Still there was dead silence inside, as eye turned to eye for counsel. +Then against the panels they heard the solid blow of heavy timbers. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + + +When the door fell in, Bear Cat Stacy stepped across the splintered +woodwork, unarmed save for the holstered pistol in his belt. He made a +clear target for at his back was the red and yellow glare of blazing +flambeaux. Yet no finger pressed its trigger because the mad +uselessness of resistance proclaimed itself. Like flood-water running +through a broken dyke, a black and steady stream flowed around him into +the house, lining the walls with a mourning border of unidentified +human figures. + +Their funereal like had never before been seen in the hills, and they +seemed to come endlessly with an uncanny silence and precision. + +They were not ghosts but men; men draped in rubber ponchos or slickers +that fell, glinting with the sheen of melted snow, to their knees. +Their black felt hats were pointed into cones and under the brims their +eyes looked out through masks of black cloth that betrayed no feature. +Except for Bear Cat Stacy himself and George Kelly, who were both +unmasked, no man was recognized--and no voice sounded to distinguish +its possessor. + +The mauling of the battering ram on the rear door ceased and a +pulseless quiet followed save for the tramp-tramp of feet as yet other +spectral and monotonously similar figures slipped through the door and +fell into enveloping ranks along the walls, and for the woman's +half-smothered hysteria of fright. + +Angered by her disconcerting sobs, Jim Towers seized his wife's +shoulder and shook her brutally. "Damn ye, shet up afore I hurts ye," +he snarled, and, as he finished, Bear Cat Stacy's open hand smote him +across the lips and brought a trickle of blood. Into the eyes of the +trapped man came an evil glitter of ineffectual rage, and from an upper +room rose the wail of awakened children. + +"Go up sta'rs, ma'am, an' comfort ther youngsters," Turner quietly +directed the woman. "No harm hain't a-goin' ter come ter you--ner +them." Then, wheeling, he ripped out a command to the huddled +prisoners. + +"Drap them guns!" + +When the surrendered arms had been gathered in, Stacy drew his captives +into line and nodded to George Kelly, who stepped forward, his face +working with a strong emotion. One could see that only the effect of +acknowledged discipline stifled his longing to leap at the throat of +Jim Towers. + +"Kin ye identify any one man or more hyar, es them thet burned down +yore dwellin' house? If ye kin, point him out." + +Walking to a position from which he directly confronted Towers, Kelly +raised a finger unsteady with rage and thrust it almost into the face +itself. Then the hand grew steady and remained accusingly poised. + +There was a moment of silence, tensely charged, which Bear Cat's voice +broke with a steady precision of judicial inquiry. + +"What proof hev ye got ter offer us?" + +"Make him lift up his right foot an' show ther patch thet he's got on +ther sole an' ther nails on ther heel," demanded Kelly eagerly, but at +that Stacy shook his head. + +"No. Fust ye tell us what manner of shoe hit war--then we'll see ef +ye're right." + +George Kelly described a print made by a shoe, home-mended with a +triangular patch, and with a heel from whose circle of hobs, two were +missing. "Now," snapped Bear Cat. "Let's see thet shoe. Tek hit off." + +Reluctantly the man whose house had been invaded stooped and unlaced +his brogan. + +Stacy wheeled abruptly to face one of the lines against the wall. "You +men thet seen them foot-prints, atter thet fire, step ter ther fore." + +A quartette of figures detached themselves and formed a squad facing +the captives and when the shoe had been passed from hand to hand along +their line Turner went forward with his inquisition. From no other +throat came a syllable of sound. + +"I wants every man thet's willin' ter take oath thet he recognizes thet +sole--as ther same one thet made them prints--ter raise his right hand +above his head. Ef he hain't p'intedly sure, let him keep his arms +down, an' ef he misdoubts hit's ther same identical shoe, let him hold +up his left hand." + +In prompt unison four right hands came up, and, having testified, the +mute witnesses fell back again to their places against the walls. + +"Does ye _ree_cognize anybody else, thet war thar?" Kelly was +questioned and without a falter of doubt he again thrust an index +finger forward close to the blanching face of Charlie Reverdy. + +Jim Towers stood bracing himself with a stiff-necked effort at +defiance. He was caught by an overwhelming force of his enemies--and no +help was at hand. No rescue was possible and he expected death, as in +similar circumstances, he would have inflicted it. But the sneer which +he forced to his lips could not out-testify the sickly green of his +pallor as he awaited his sentence. + +When the identification of Reverdy had been also corroborated by +similar procedure, Bear Cat turned once more to confront Towers. + +"Hev ye any denial ter make? Hev ye anything ter say?" + +"All I've got ter say," was the insolent retort, "air thet ye kin go +ter hell. Finish up yore murder ... ye kain't affright me none." + +"Burnin' down dwellin' houses air a grave matter," pursued Stacy with a +grim calm. "Hangin' hain't none too severe fer any man thet would +foller hit. So we hyarby sentences ye ter death--but we suspends ther +sentence. We don't aim ter hang ye--leastways not yit." After a pause +freighted with deep anxiety for the accused he added, "All we aims ter +do with ye air ter tie ye on bare-backed mules thet's right bony an' +slavish ter ride, an' ter tek ye acrost ther line inter Virginny." The +tone in which the edict was pronounced bore inexorable and sincere +finality. + +"But from thar on, both of ye air ter leave ther mountings an' never +come back ter this community ergin. An' ef ye _does_ undertake ter come +back, we swears afore Almighty God ter kill ye both--an' onless ye both +gives yore solemn oath ter faithfully obey this command--we'll kill ye +now an' hyar." + +There was no choice. Grudgingly the pair accepted exile, which after +all was a more lenient punishment than they had expected or deserved. +Towers was permitted to take leave of his family, but it is doubtful if +the woman regarded that parting as an unmixed affliction. + +Slowly the culprits were escorted out to see in the darkness of the +forests other black shapes that wavered fantastically and dreadfully +under the flare and sputter of pine torches. At the middle of a long +column, twisting like a huge snake along deserted roads, they were +escorted into banishment. + +The other men in the house were held prisoners until dawn. Then each, +blindfolded and in custody of a separate squad, was taken to a point +distant from his home--and liberated. + +The morning came with a crystal clarity and hills locked in a grip of +ice, but the army whose marching song had startled sleeping cabins into +wakefulness had dissolved as though its ghostly existence could not +survive the light of day. Yet behind that appearance and disappearance +had been left an impression so profound that the life of the community +would never again be precisely what it had been before. + +A new power had arisen, inexplicable and mysterious--but one that could +no longer be ignored. + +With bated breath, around their hearth fires, the timorous and ignorant +gossiped of witchcraft, and sparking swains were already singing to the +accompaniment of banjo and "dulcimore" ballads of home-made minstrelsy, +celebrating the unparalleled achievements of the young avenger of +wrong-doings and his summary punishment of miscreants. They sang of the +man who: + + "Riz outen ther night with black specters at his back, + Ter ther numbers of scores upon scores, + An' rid straightway ter ther dwellin' house of Bad Jim Towers, + Who treemored es they battered down ther doors." + +More than one mountain girl bent forward listening with heightened +pulses as the lad who had come "sweet-heartin'" her shrilled out his +chorus. + + "So his debt fer thet evil Jim Towers hed ter pay, + Fer they driv him outen old Kaintuck, afore ther break of day. + All sich es follers burnin' down a pore man's happy home, + Will hev ter reck ther Bear Cat's wrath an' no more free ter roam." + +And perhaps as the lass listened, she wondered if her own home-spun +cavalier might not be going straight from her door to one of those +mysterious meetings where oath-bound men gathered in awful and spectral +conclave. + +Sometimes, too, it was not only a song but an actual sight as well, +which made the flesh creep along the scalp. Sometimes out of the +distances came, first low and faint, then swelling into fulness that +chorus of male voices along the breeze, and after it came the sight of +a long serpent of light crawling the highways. + +Through doors opened only to slits wondering eyes peered out into the +blackness while that mysterious procession passed, seemingly an endless +line of torches shining on black horsemen riding in single file. + +When the singing ended and the night-riders went in silence they were +even more awe-inspiring and ghost-like than before--and, except by +remembering that the man of the house was absent, no woman could guess +who any member of the train might be, for they passed with hat brims +bent low and black masks coming down to their black slickers, and even +their horses were swathed in flowing coverings of the same inky +disguise. They were torch-lit silhouettes riding the night, but when +they passed, those who saw them knew that some task was being +accomplished in which the law had failed and that somewhere black dread +would deservedly strike. + +Kinnard Towers himself, racking his brain, took a less romantic view, +but one of equal concern. + +"Hit's done got beyond a hurtful pest now," he grumbled to Black Tom as +the two of them sat over their pipes. "Ther longer he goes on unchecked +ther more an' more fools will flock ter him. He's gittin' ther _people_ +behind him an' hit's a-spreadin' like hawg cholera amongst young +shoats." + +"Does ye 'low they're all Stacys--or air thar some of our own kin mixed +in with 'em?" queried Tom anxiously, and because he, too, had been +pondering that vexing question, the Towers leader shook his head +moodily. + +"Thar hain't no possible way of tellin'. They seems ter possess a means +of smellin' a man thet hain't genu-_wine_ly fer 'em an' sich-like +kain't git inter no meetin's ter find out nothin'." + +He puffed out a cloud of smoke and sought to comfort himself with +specious optimism. "I reckon folks is misled as ter numbers, though. A +few folks ridin' in ther night-time with noise an' torches looks like a +whole passel." + +"They acts like a whole passel, too," supplemented Black Tom, who had a +blunt and unrelieved fashion of speaking his mind. "What does ye aim +ter do erbout hit all?" + +The florid man brought his great fist down on the table and his +bull-like neck swelled with anger. + +"I aims ter keep right on twell I gits this damned young night-rider +hisself. Ther minute he dies ther rest of hit'll fall in like a roof +without no ridge-pole." + +He paused, then went on musingly: "I wouldn't be amazed none if +Fulkerson's gal knows whar he's at right frequent. I've done _dee_vised +a means ter hev her lead somebody ter him some time when he's by +hisself. Ratler Webb seed him walkin' alone in ther woods only +yistiddy." + +"Why didn't Ratler git him then?" + +Kinnard ground his teeth. "Why don't none of 'em ever git him? He +claims he hed a bad ca'tridge in his rifle-gun an' hit snapped on him. +Folks calls him Bear Cat an' hit 'pears like he's got nine lives in +common with other cats. We've got ter keep right on till we puts an end +ter all of em." + +Black Tom was so inconsiderate as to burst in a raucous laugh of +ridicule. "Hit usen't ter be so damn' hard ter kill one man," was his +unfeeling comment. + +About that time Kinnard's man-pack developed a strong disinclination to +take bold chances of falling in with the black army of torches. They +moved about their tasks with such constraint that their quarry had a +correspondingly greater freedom and latitude. And moonshiners no longer +boasted defiance, but dug in and became infinitely secretive. In spite +of all these precautions, however, day after day saw new trophies +hanging along way-side branches until there were few left to hunt out. + +One afternoon, walking alone through the woods, Bear Cat Stacy stooped +at the edge of a "spring branch" to quench his thirst, and as he knelt +he saw floating past him yellow and broken grains of corn. Cautiously +and invisibly he followed the stream upward, worming himself along +until he lay looking in upon the tiny plant of a typical illicit still. +Its fire was burning under the mash kettle and back far enough to +escape the revealing light was a bark roofed, browse-thatched retreat +in which sat an old man, reflectively smoking. + +As Bear Cat looked on, a startled surprise came into his expression and +his face worked spasmodically as if in pain. He wished he might not +have seen the floating evidence which had brought him here and +confronted him with the hardest tug-of-war between sincerity and +blood-loyalty that he had yet encountered. + +The man huddled there in his rabbit-warren retreat was old Turner +Stacy, brother of Bear Cat's father and the uncle for whom he had +himself been named. Bear Cat had not even suspected that this kinsman +was operating such a plant. The elder Turner Stacy was a fierce and +close-mouthed fellow whose affairs were confided to no one. + +Bracing himself for an ordeal, Bear Cat emerged from his concealment +and walked forward. + +At sight of an unannounced visitor the old man's hand went quickly out +toward the rifle lying at his side, but as he recognized the face, he +rose without it and stood silently glowering. + +"Uncle Turner," began the nephew seriously, "I hain't hardly willin' +ter use fo'ce erginst ye--but ye knows what hit would sound like fer +folks ter fling hit up erginst me thet I'm favorin' my own blood. I +wants thet ye give me yore hand ter quit." + +For a moment the aged face worked with passion, its white beard +bristling and its eyes flaming. + +"Who do ye think ye air--God Almighty?" came the angry question. "Who +give ye license ter come brow-beatin' yore elders? Yore own paw's in +jail now because somebody betrayed him.... I wonder war hit _you_!" + +The young man recoiled as though an unexpected blow in the face had +stunned him. + +"My God," he exclaimed in a low voice, "I didn't never expect ter hear +a kinsman charge me with sich infamy. I reckon I've got ter look over +hit though. Ye're my father's brother an' ye're right aged." He paused +and then his voice changed to one crisp and peremptory. + +"I reckon ye knows I've got ther power ter compel ye as I've compelled +others. Does ye aim ter destroy thet thing yoreself,--now,--or does ye +want thet I brings fo'ce?" + +There ensued a half hour of storm, but at its end the older Stacy bowed +to necessity. He, too, knew of the black army, and though he swore like +a baffled pirate into his beard he capitulated. Bear Cat left a +demolished place, carrying with him a fresh trophy, but he went with a +heavy heart. + +It would have surprised him had he known that, left alone, his uncle's +wrath had turned suddenly to amusement for some private joke of his +own. + +As the old man watched the retreating figure he chuckled and mumbled to +himself. + +"Hit's right good fortune thet he came this week 'stid of next," he +soliloquized as he refilled his pipe's bowl, still smiling. "I'm glad +he didn't know I'd done ordered me a brand-new worm--an' thet hit's due +ter get hyar right soon." + +As he puffed at the home grown tobacco, the elder Turner Stacy added: +"I reckon, though, I'd better pick out a fresh spot afore I sets ther +new one up." + + * * * * * + +Since Blossom had realized her neglect of Turner's mother that day in +the grave yard she had sought to make amends by many small attentions +and frequent visits. + +One afternoon as she came into the house, she found Mrs. Stacy, who had +been bed-ridden with a deep cold, dressing herself with weak and +trembling hands. The girl's face became instantly stern. + +"I told ye not ter rise from yore bed ter-day," she began and the other +woman dropped into a chair in pure feebleness. + +"I don't seem ter hev no stren'th lef' in me," she complained. "Seems +like I've got a thousand bones inside me--an' all on 'em achin'." + +"You must go back to bed, straightway. I'll brew ye somethin' hot an' +kiver ye up, an' read ter ye twell ye goes ter sleep." + +But Mrs. Stacy responded with a short laugh that rasped bitterly. + +"Turney air a hidin' out ter-night in thet small cavern whar ye tuck +Mr. Henderson oncet. I've done carried him victuals over thar twict +since he's been livin' like a varmint in the woods. I war jest makin' +ready ter sot out ergin. Ther riders hain't a-meetin' ter-night an' +he's thar all by hisself." + +"Whar's George Kelly?" demanded Blossom quickly, for she was to some +degree initiated in the operating methods of Turner and his followers. + +"He's done fared over inter Virginny ter visit his wife. She's ailin'." + +"But I don't understand. What does Turner need?" + +The mother trembled with a sudden access of the terror she had been +fighting back. Her voice rose shrilly and broke: "He needs ter be +fore-warned. His enemies hev diskivered whar he's at--an' they aims ter +trap him thar ter-night." + +The color went out of the girl's face as she questioned tensely. +"How--how did ye hear tell of this?" + +"A leetle while back I heered a shout outside, an I riz' up an' went +ter ther door. Thar wasn't nobody in sight, but I found this hyar +letter stuck thar with a pin. Whosoever hit war thet left hit, hed done +went away." She held out a clenched, talon-like hand and opened it, and +on a small sheet of ruled paper, printed out unevenly, Blossom read the +anonymous message: "I can't be seen giving you this letter because I'm +accounted to be Kinnard's man. They knows where Bear Cat is hiding +to-night and are planning according. Git him warned straightway.--A +Friend." + +"Thet's all I knows," moaned the mother, "but thar hain't nobody with +him--an' he don't suspicion nothin'." + +The girl was already throwing her discarded shawl about her shoulders. + +"You go right back ter bed. I reckon ye kin trust me ter warn him." Her +eyes were full of warlike fire. "I kin go quicker then you, an' I won't +pause till I've got thar an' told him." + +"Ye'll fare right back again, won't ye?" quavered the sick woman. "An' +fotch me tidin's--thet he got away safe." + +Blossom had been a little stoop-shouldered of late with that +carelessness of carriage that comes from grief, but now again she was +lance-like in her straightness and vibrant with the determination of a +Valkyr. + +"I'll come back ter ye," she vowed and then she burst out: "I reckon +this day I kin pay back some leetle part of ther debt I owes to Turney. +God knows he's done enough fer me!" + +She went over the steep path with the light fleetness of some wild +thing--and of course she did not know that after her, unseen and silent +as a shadow, followed a slouching figure, using her as a guide. She did +not know either that, as she left the more traveled ways and turned +abruptly into the thicketed forest, that figure was joined by two +others, or that one of them, after a few whispered words, struck off to +communicate with more distant members of the hidden pack. + +A wild haste drove her for she knew that Turner trusted the secrecy of +that cave, known, as he thought, only to his friends. Every moment she +could gain for him would mean a distance put between him and his peril. + +Several times she paused just long enough to look about and assure +herself that she was not being followed--and then went forward again, +falsely reassured by the silence and seeming emptiness of the wintry +woods. + +Pantingly she came to the mouth of the cave. Before it lay a small +plateau, gashed across by a gulch that went down a sheer hundred feet +and littered with piles of broken and gigantic rock. The opening to the +grotto itself was tucked back between these great bowlders, and for +that reason had remained so nearly undiscovered. Just outside the +fissure, she halted and gave the old signal of the owl's call. Thrice +she repeated it, and then as she stood with her hands pressed to her +heart, she saw a face appear, and a moment later Bear Cat had thrust +himself lengthwise out of the bottle neck, and stood at her side, his +face glowing with surprised delight for her coming. + +"Blossom!" he cried. "What brought ye?" and in his voice throbbed the +rebirth of wild hope for the miracle which, he had told himself, would +never come back into his life. + +But Blossom laid a sobering hand on his arm and talked rapidly. + +"Thar's dire need of haste an' little time fer speech. Yore enemies +know you're here an' ter-night they're comin' ter hem ye in--an slay +ye. Fer God's sake go--swiftly!" + +The man's face, which had softened into tenderness, stiffened. He +gulped down his disappointment and said simply, "I'm obleeged ter ye, +Blossom," then went into the black cranny. The girl could see the dim +glow of his electric torch flashing there, but as she waited she heard +something from the other direction which made her heart miss its beat; +the sound of furtively guarded voices somewhere in the litter of +bowlders. Instantly she, too, disappeared into the fissure. + +"They're hyar a'ready," she panted. "I've done come too late. Thar +hain't but ther one way out, neither, is thar?" + +For an instant Turner Stacy stood immovable, listening as his thumb +slid back the hammer of his rifle. + +"Thar hain't but one way _you_ kin go out," he told her--"ther same way +ye come in." + +His face was grim and hurriedly he went on: "But hyar of late I +diskivered a leetle hole jest big enough ter crawl through--way back at +ther end of a small gulch. Thar's a tree-top nigh by--but ye hes ter +dive fer hit offen ther edge of ther clift--and trust God ter aid ye +when ye seeks ter ketch hold of a limb. I reckon mebby I mout go out +thet way--ef I war by myself." + +But Blossom's eyes had lighted with a sudden hope. + +"Ye've got ter try hit, then, Turney," she declared staunchly. "Take +yore pistol an' leave me yore rifle. I'll make 'em think ye're still +hyar fer a spell anyhow." + +"Does ye reckon I'd go away an' leave ye hyar ter them wolves?" +questioned the man scornfully, and with palms against his chest, as if +she would push him bodily back to the one chance of escape, she spoke +urgently: + +"In thet leetle hole thar, one gun kin hold back a whole mob an' ef ye +gits away I reckon ye kin git some friends an' come back, kain't ye?" + +"Ef I kin make Pinnacle Rock an' light a fire thar--I kin hev a score +of men hyar in two hours' time--but two hours----" He broke off with a +groan. + +"Then do hit. I kin hold 'em back longer then thet. Ef they does git +in, I'll pretend ye jest left by ther backway. They won't harm me +nowhow." + +He doubted that, but he knew that his staying meant ultimate death for +both of them, and that once outside he had a chance to rally his forces +for her rescue. For a little longer his reluctance to abandon her even +temporarily held him in quandary, then realizing that it offered the +only hope, he seized her fingers in a tight grasp and whispered: + +"Farewell--then. God be with ye twell I gits back." + +He worked his way along a twisting passage hitherto known only to +spiders and bats until at length he could see a yellow shred of +westering sky through a narrow rent in the blackness. As he edged his +body through the rift he heard a rifle shot reverberating brokenly +through the twisting tunnels, followed by a dogged spatter of +response--or was it only echo? He ground his teeth and poised himself +precariously on a foothold, inches wide, and treacherously insecure. He +measured the distance to a hickory branch that the wind rocked and +between its support and himself was emptiness. The scaly bark of the +limb for which he must leap was near the top of a tree whose roots were +planted fifty feet lower. + +Turner gathered his muscles into elastic readiness--and plunged +outward. There was an instant of terrific uncertainty, then he swung +pendulum-like, upon a support that sagged and gave under his weight as +he hooked his knees about the branch and drank in a deep breath of +thanksgiving. + +Blossom, kneeling unseen and partly protected by a sandstone barricade, +had been peering out at the broken gulches which were already filling +with a dusky gray. She must keep those alley ways clear and there were +two of them. A twilight depression gnawed at her heart. + +Finally she saw a furtive and leering face thrust slowly and cautiously +around the angle of stone. Her pulses pounded, but her rifle was +trained, and her hands unshaking. For the first time since Henderson's +murder, something like a thrill warmed her veins. Now she could hit +back and avenge and take a man's chance of death in doing it. Then the +man, bent on reconnaissance, ventured a forward step. He had not come +quite far enough to see the opening itself though he knew that it must +be hidden somewhere among those bowlders. He peered with lynx-like +eagerness--ready to leap back if need be--and Blossom pressed her +trigger. Without a groan the figure wilted down and lay in grotesque +shapelessness between the rocks. + +The fusillade which came in response was random and ineffective, and +the girl, nerved to battle, found the long and anxious silence which +ensued a purgatory of suspense. At the end she knew they would attempt +to overwhelm defense in a charge and the passing minutes ate like decay +into the tissue of her courage. Then what she dreaded came. They were +making a rush through both alleys at once. If they succeeded in +crossing the twenty feet of open danger, they could spread out on each +side of the cave's mouth, themselves safe by reason of the angle, and +seal the place up like a tomb. + +Yet the first assault broke into demoralized flight under her fierce +welcome of fire and two other assailants fell wounded. Once more +soundless minutes dragged by in interminable suspense--then as the +second charge was launched, Blossom's rifle jammed its mechanism and +became dead in her hands. She threw it down and ran toward the passage +at the back. As it narrowed until she had to go on hands and knees, she +heard voices inside the cave--and then for the first time her nerves +snapped and she fainted. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + + +When the curtain of unconsciousness rolled up again Blossom was no +longer in the cave, but was lying on the ground between the rocks +outside. It was dark now, but a lantern was lighted near at hand, and +her wrists and ankles ached with the bite of knotted ropes. + +Although she could see no one, she had the distinct sense of eyes +gazing at her from somewhere beyond the narrow circle of light and as +she stirred uneasily, she heard a voice that seemed to come from behind +the sandstone at her right. "She's done come ter herself. Now we've +need ter hasten." Then from her left a sugar-loaf bowlder appeared to +question her. + +"Whar did he go to? You knows an' we knows ye know--an' we don't aim +ter be trifled with neither. Ef ye speaks out honest an' ready, we'll +go an' git him fust an' then come back an' sot ye free afterwards." + +Blossom writhed with a realization that she was in the hands of +creatures as savagely merciless as wolves, but she set her teeth. + +"I hain't never a-goin' ter tell ye," she declared staunchly, "not ef +ye kills me!" A satirical laugh drifted from the shadows. + +"All right, then, we've done made provision fer thet, too. Ef ye won't +tell us whar he's at we'll find out fer ourselves, but we aims ter +leave one man hyar with ye when we goes. He's done been drinkin' +right-smart licker--an' he natch'rally won't want ye ter go away an' +tell his name ter nobody." + +The unseen speaker paused significantly, then added with a deliberate +brutality: "I reckon ye'll have ter be mighty sweet ter thet man ef ye +hopes ter go away from hyar alive." + +The girl lay blanched but unyielding. She did not dare to hope that the +threat was empty and her single chance lay in parrying for time. Bear +Cat had said he would come back with reinforcements in two hours--if he +won through--but he, too, was facing desperate odds and already they +might have overwhelmed him: he might have failed in his dive from +precipice to tree-top. + +Her heart sank into a nausea of terror. No outrage was beyond these +human jackals, but she was bred to iron courage and the warlike blood +in her veins welled up in defiance. + +"I've done already give ye my answer," she retorted, forgetting her +ideals of diction. "I don't aim ter alter hit none--damn ye!" + +"We aims ter be plumb fa'r an' reasonable," wheedled the voice of the +spokesman with an evil sneer. "Deespite yore contrary muleishness, +we're goin' ter tarry hyar jest precisely five minutes by ther watch +ter afford ye a chanst ter study ther matter over, but don't make no +mistake. We means, in sum an' substance, jest what we says ... most +anythin's liable ter happen ter ye when we goes away." + +Blossom's pulses pounded so furiously that her sanity reeled through a +thousand nightmare tortures before she heard the detestable voice once +more drawling, "Wa'al, time's up. Ef ye fo'ces us now, hit's jest plain +suicide--thet's all." + +After that, for a while, she remembered nothing save the delusion that +she was drowning--sinking down and still more deeply down through +eternities. Her next definite impression came when she found herself +inside the cave, with her head resting against the muddied knees of a +man who sat cross-legged on the ground. At the mouth of the grotto was +a lantern with its dimming shield turned outward so that, inside, its +light fell in a grotesque effect of ragged formlessness. + +As she stirred into returning consciousness, the creature who was +cradling her aching head on his marrow-bones, took down the tin cup +which just then obscured his face. + +Blossom recognized Ratler Webb and the breath stopped in her tightened +throat. + +The degenerate face was unshaven and bristling. Its blood-shot eyes +smirked at her with the brutalized leer of a satyr. The man bent over a +little and with grimy fingers fondled the hair on her neck and temples. + +"Jest tek yore time, sweetheart," he said. "Don't hasten ter rouse +yoreself up. We've got ther night afore us." + +As the girl flinched and struggled away from the beast-light of those +predatory eyes, her captor only clasped her the closer so that his +alcoholic breath came sickeningly close to her face. He chuckled +thickly as he added, "I reckon I kin allow ye a leetle time--because +we're beholden ter ye. We didn't hev no notion whar yore beau war +a-hidin' at twell we left thet note over thar. Then ye led us straight +ter ther place." + + * * * * * + +Turner Stacy had clambered and slid precariously down the hickory tree +without greater mishap than raw and bleeding hands. Once more on the +ground, he ran like a madman, bending low in the timber. + +The signal fire which he meant to build on the bald crest of Pinnacle +Rock, would send out a flare visible to three states. Already he was +twenty-five hundred feet above sea-level, but there remained a climb of +almost a thousand more, and he was taking the direct and well-nigh +perpendicular route. + +Breathless, panting, vaulting from rock to rock; gripping, on faith, +root and sapling, he climbed the steep stairway--where sometimes the +earth shelved away underfoot--and he clutched wildly out for fresh +support. Once there, with a fire blazing, he would have twenty or more +of his nearest adherents riding to the rescue. They would rally on the +highway just below the signal fire itself and there seek +instructions--or signs. Fortunately for the present need, the +night-riders had developed a mysterious but thorough system of +communication. Their code of signals embraced a series of crude +emblems, which to the initiated designated the zone into which they +were called for action. + +With frenzied haste Bear Cat laid and lighted his fire on the bald +summit--pausing only long enough to see its red glare leaping upward. +Then he plunged downward again. + +Along the highroad, which, for a little way, he followed boldly, he +placed peeled twigs bent into circles at various conspicuous places, +knowing that those who were to come would read from them the course to +follow. + +After that he disappeared into the thickets again and traveled swiftly. +Twice, as he hurried, soft-footed, through the woods he halted and +threw himself flat while members of the pursuing party well-nigh ran +over him. But eventually he reached a litter of giant rocks that stood +like undisciplined sentinels guarding the cave's entrance. Then he +stopped and listened, and when he heard no sound he crept forward +obsessed with apprehension. He could not escape the feeling that this +seeming of calm was dangerously deceptive. + +Finally as he lay flattened and listening with all his faculties +razor-edged, he heard something that electrified him--a woman's scream. + +Clawing out his pistol, he threw all caution to the winds and raced for +the entrance of the cave, and as he went he heard it again, now sharp +and terrified, and he recognized Blossom's voice. + +In his haste it did not even occur to him to feel surprised that no +rifles greeted him. An exaltation of wrath intoxicated him with +superlative confidence. He could meet and overcome a host of enemies! +His voice rose in Berserker frenzy. "I'm a-comin', Blossom! I'm +a-comin'!" + + * * * * * + +For perhaps three-quarters of an hour after Blossom had recovered +consciousness the second time, it had pleased her captor to sit across +the narrow way from her, gloating with a bestial satisfaction over her +helplessness, while he poured white stuff from bottle to tin cup. + +Despite the advantages of his position, Ratler had thoughts which were +disconcerting. At his hands lay the final opportunity to glut his +long-starved hunger for revenge: to glut it fully and in a fashion of +beastly brutality, and for that he had waited with a singleness of +thought and purpose. + +But behind him to-night he must leave no witness, and as he approached +his task, he found that his nerves needed the steadying of strong +drink--and yet more strong drink. Out of the flask he was not only +drawing appeasement of thirst, but fuel for determination. + +For a while he had even dozed while the girl, bound hand and foot, had +shudderingly watched his dissolute and depraved face. + +Then at the end he had risen, stretched his long arms and sauntered +insolently over, looking down while he phrased repulsive compliments to +her beauty. + +Tiring eventually of his cat-and-mouse deliberateness, Ratler leaned +down and, putting his arm about her waist, drew her up to him. Then it +was that with all the revulsion that was in her she had screamed not +once but until his hand had choked off her breath--and at that instant +she had heard the shout from beyond the cave's entrance. + +Webb heard it, too, and hurled the woman away from him, suddenly +brought back to something nearer sobriety by the shock. He wheeled and +trained his pistol on the entrance. He had laid aside his rifle and +there was no time now to hunt for it. Bear Cat would have to stoop and +edge his way into the place and in the process he could be easily +dispatched. + +But while he waited Ratler's knees shook and when, instead of crawling, +he saw a shape dive almost horizontally through the aperture his +courage evaporated. The lantern was badly placed and it confused the +man inside because it darkened the opening while it left him in plain +sight. Ratler's revolver was spitting venomously but ineffectually. His +hand was unsteady and his eye confused. The drunkard was reeling as he +fought and after a dazed moment he felt himself caught in a +bone-breaking embrace while the butt of a pistol hammered the +consciousness out of his skull. + +Turner Stacy was a wild man now. He stumbled blindly out of the cave +dragging a limp figure behind him, and when he straightened up again +and wiped his sweat-streaming face he had hurled the thing bodily +outward, where the ravine dropped down a hundred feet. + +He came back, palsied and shaken, and as he bent over the girl and cut +away her bonds, his voice struggled through dry sobs. + +"Blossom," he pleaded brokenly, "Blossom, tell me ye're only +affrighted. Tell me thet ye didn't come ter no harm--fer my sake." + +"I hain't hurt--Turney," she managed to whisper. "Ye came back--in +time--jest barely in time." + +She stood leaning weakly against the rock wall with her hands pressed +tightly to her face. + +The man stood, panting with excitement and exertion, but into his +pupils came a sudden light of hope. + +"Blossom," he whispered huskily, "Blossom--ye didn't ... come over ... +hyar ... because ye ... because ye keered fer me, did ye?" + +She took her hands away from her temples and looked at him with a white +face, and in the unhappy honesty of her eyes the man read his answer. +It was as if she had said, "My heart lies over there in _his_ grave," +and slowly, gravely Turner nodded his head. His face had gone gray, but +through its misery it held a stamp of gentleness. + +"I understands ye," he said simply. "I won't never pester ye no more." +Then as some note of alarm came to his ears he wheeled, all alertness +again and his hand was once more gripping his pistol. + +"I've only got three ca'tridges left," he said to himself. "Hit's nip +an' tuck now which git hyar fust." + +As he reached the mouth of the cave a shout came out of the darkness. +"Ratler, air ye in thar?" and out into the night went the defiant +response. "No, Ratler hain't hyar, but Bear Cat Stacy's hyar. Come on +an' git me ef ye wants me." + +There was a silence after that, which he knew meant a parley. As he +knelt waiting he felt a hand on his shoulder and with eyes still +searching the ominous darkness he spoke low, in a trained effort at +self-control: + +"Blossom, hit looks like we're trapped. Ye came inter this peril in an +effort ter save me--an' I fears hit's goin' ter be hopeless. I hain't +got but three ca'tridges left." + +"Save one of 'em, Turney," she said without a tremor in her voice. +"Shoot twice ef ye wants ter do hit--an' then give ther pistol ter me. +I kain't bear ter fall inter their hands again." + +Then as they counted the seconds they heard another sound. From across +the nearer crests lusty voices, raised in unison, were chanting. Turner +even fancied he could distinguish the familiar words, "Mine eyes have +seen the glory of the coming of the Lord." There was a clatter of +gravel under dispersing footsteps and a low wake of frightened +oaths--and the night had taken the attacking party to itself. + + * * * * * + +The Stacys had pressing topics to discuss. The activities of their +young kinsman were no longer a matter of theory but a condition, and +their clan attitude toward him must be determined. Was he to be +regarded as a renegade or as one still entitled to recognition? + +At the house of Joe Stacy on a cold winter day a dozen of the elders +gathered to discuss this matter. + +"Bear Cat's done cast off all regards fer fam'ly loyalty," cried out a +turbulent spirit whose eyes and voice bespoke fellowship with the jug. +"He's makin' war on everything we've ever stood fer. Thet damned +furriner bewitched him, I reckon. He's jest rampagin' round with a +passel of wuthless Stacys and Towerses alike, destroyin' propitty. He's +stirrin' up ther cast-offs an' woods-colts of both factions an' he +hain't nuthin' more ner less then a damn' traitor." + +But Joe Stacy, steadier of balance, thrust himself into the discussion. + +"Thet hain't no fa'r ner rightful statement," he said slowly with the +weight of thoughtful force. "Thar's some amongst us thet don't hold +with Bear Cat an' some thet does--but he hain't no traitor. He told us +out-spoken what he aimed ter do afore he commenced doin' hit, an' thet +needed courage. Myself, I thinks he's a man with a vision, an' afore we +casts him out I aims ter be heered." + +There was a hum of discussion and while it was at its height, the elder +Turner Stacy burst tempestuously into the midst of the gathering. The +old man shook with rage and his voice quavered. + +"By God," he roared, "thet boy's plumb crazed. He's got ter be +handled--an' checked. I suffered him ter bust up my old still 'cause I +knowed ther new one was a-comin', but now he's busted up ther new one, +too. Hit war a beautiful piece of copper--an' right hard ter smuggle +in." + +The group of elders regarded the old blockader with varying emotions, +as he stood glaring with an ember-like ferocity which he genuinely +believed to be righteous indignation. But Joe Stacy, his own brother, +permitted his shrewd eyes to twinkle as he laid a calming hand on the +anger-palsied shoulder of the new arrival. + +"Wa'al now, Turner," he suggested dryly, "by yore own showin' ye lied +ter ther boy an' consented ter quit stillin'. Hit's right sensibly like +these-hyar other outrages thet's done been reported. He hain't nuver +interfered with no man's _lawful_ business yit--an' albeit I don't know +who ther fellers air thet rides with him by night, I kin discarn right +well by thar way they does things thet thar hain't no licker-befuddled +folks amongst 'em." Suddenly the speaker's voice rose. "An', by God, I +knows another thing besides thet! I knows thet some fellers roundabout, +thet used ter be red-eyed an' sullen-visaged, kin look a man straight +in ther face ter-day, clear-sighted an' high-headed. I've got a notion +thet ye kin jest erbout identify these-hyar outlaws by ther way they +carries thar chins high." + +"What law air thar fer a man ter sot out compellin' other men ter adopt +his notions, I wants ter know?" came the fierce demand, and Joe Stacy +smiled. + +"Thet's a fa'r question," he admitted, "an' I'll meet hit with an +answer ther minit' ye tells me what law thar air fer blockadin'." + + * * * * * + +One morning Bear Cat was coming along the road when he heard voices +beyond the bend, and turned into the brush. Looking out, he saw such a +strange procession that he emerged again. + +A man whose back was stooped, and whose face wore a dull stamp of +hopelessness, trudged along, carrying a bundle over his shoulder and a +dilapidated carpet-bag in one hand. Behind him trailed three small +children, the largest two also staggering under rough bundles. + +"Whar be ye a-goin', Matthew Blakey?" hailed Stacy, and the man halted. +He opened a mouth well-nigh toothless, though he was yet young, and +replied in a tone of deep depression. "I'm farin' over ter thet new +school, with fotched-on teachers in Fletcher County. I aims ter ask 'em +ter take in these-hyar chil'len." + +"Hain't ye goin' ter house 'em an' tend 'em no longer yore own self?" +was the somewhat stern interrogation, and the man's pale blue eyes +filled suddenly with a suspicion of tears. + +"Since thar mother died three y'ars back, I've done sewed an' washed +all thar clothes my own self--an' gone out inter ther field an' wucked +for 'em," he said humbly. "I've done raised 'em es right es I knows, +but I kain't do what I ought fer 'em. When I has ter leave 'em I kain't +holp but study, s'pose ther house war ter ketch fire? They're all +sleepy-headed leetle shavers." + +"Why don't ye git married again?" + +The voice shook a little. "Young 'uns oughtn't ter hev but just one +mammy--an' I couldn't nuver be content with no other woman." He paused. +"Hit's forty mile ter thet school, an' mebby they're full up--but I've +done been over thar an' seed hit." The weary eyes lighted. "God knows I +nuver 'lowed thet thar _war_ sich fine places ter raise chil'len to'rds +humanity an' l'arn 'em all manner of wisdom!" + +"All right, go on over thar, Matthew," said Bear Cat in a +matter-of-fact voice, but in his own pupils gleamed a soft light, "an' +when ye come back jine with me. I'm seekin' ter bring hit erbout thet +we kin hev a school like thet over hyar--whar yore children wouldn't be +so far away." + +The father stood twisting his broganed toe in the mud. "I heers thet ye +don't tolerate licker, Bear Cat," he said sheepishly. "Hit hain't nuver +made me mean ner nuthin' like thet--but since my woman died I've done +tuck ter drinkin' hit--I misdoubts ef I could plumb stop." + +Bear Cat Stacy smiled. "Ter-morrer drink half what ye've been usin' an' +next day cut thet down a leetle. Anyhow come an' hev speech with me." + +Matthew nodded and Turner watched the little procession trail out of +sight behind the gray screen of the timber-line. "All sore-eyed, an' +all sickly," he commented under his breath. "Not one of 'em gittin' a +chanst ter grow straight! Mebby over thar, they will, though." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + + +"Take a cheer an' sit down, an' light a pipe--unless ye've got a +cigar." The invitation came from the Honorable William Renshaw, circuit +judge, seated in the same small chamber adjoining the court-room in +Marlin Town, from which Kinnard Towers had issued orders on that +afternoon of Big-meetin' time. + +"Co'te don't meet till two o'clock--an' I'm always glad to have the +chance to chat with distinguished counsel from down below--I don't get +down thar oftentimes myself." + +The man to whom Judge Renshaw spoke seemed conspicuously out of his own +environment in this musty place of unwashed windows, cob-webbed walls +and cracking plaster. + +His dress bespoke the skill of a good tailor and his fingers were +manicured. He drew out a cigar case and proffered a perfecto to his +honor, then deliberately snipped the end from his own. Evidently he had +something embarrassing to say. + +"Judge," he began briefly, "I've been here now for upwards of a week, +trying to get this business under way. You know what the results have +been--or rather have not been. I've encountered total failure." + +"Hasn't the prosecutin' attorney afforded you every facility, Mr. +Sidney?" The inquiry was put in a tone of the utmost solicitude. + +"That's not the difficulty," objected the visiting lawyer. "Mr. +Hurlburt has shown me every courtesy--in precisely the way you have. +Your instructions to the grand jurors were admirable. The prosecutor +consented at once that I should participate in getting the evidence +before them, and in assisting him to punish the guilty when indicted. +It is now February. Jerry Henderson was murdered before the first snow +flew. Those subpoenas which we have sent out have for the most part +come back--unserved. What witnesses we have secured might as well be +mutes. The thing is inexplicable. Surely the judge can do something to +energize the machinery of his court out of utter lethargy. I appeal to +you, sir. We all know that Henderson was murdered ... we all suspect +who had it done, yet we make no progress." + +Judge Renshaw nodded his head affirmatively. + +"It looks right considerably that way." Then seeing the impatient +expression on the other face, he spoke again--in a different voice, +leaning forward. "Mr. Sidney, I reckon I know what's in your mind. +You're thinkin' that both me and the prosecutin' attorney ain't much +better than tools of Kinnard Towers.... Maybe there's a grain of truth +in it. I'm judge of a district that takes in several county seats and I +ride the circuit. Before I was elected to the bench I was a backwoods +lawyer that sometimes knew the pinch of hunger. You say Kinnard Towers +is dishonest--and worse. If I said it, I _might_ hold office till the +next election--but more likely I wouldn't live that long." + +As the notable attorney from the city sought to disarm his smile of its +satirical barb, the other proceeded: "That strikes you as a thing +that's exaggerated--and a thing that a man ought to be ashamed to admit +even if it was true. All right. Do you know that when you took the +Henderson matter to the grand jury, nine men on the panel sought to be +excused from service in fear of their lives? Do you know that on every +day they did serve all twelve got anonymous letters threatenin' them +with death? They know it anyhow--and you see they haven't brought in +any true bills an' I predict that no matter what evidence you put +before them--they won't." + +"Why were those letters not presented to the Court? You have power to +protect your panels with every company of militia in the state if need +be." + +"So I told 'em." The reply was laconic, and it was supplemented in a +slow drawl. "But you see they've known militia protection before--and +that guarantee didn't satisfy them. They figure that the soldiers go +away after awhile--but there's other forces that stay on all the +time--and those other forces can wait months or years without +forgetting or forgiving." + +"And this terrorization paralyzes your courts of justice?" + +"Well, no. It lets 'em run along in a fashion--as you've seen." + +Mr. Sidney strove to repress his choler, but his manner was icy as he +remarked: "That's a strange utterance for a judge on the bench." + +"Is it?" Renshaw's quiet eyes showed just a glint of repressed anger. +"Doesn't it work the same way in your district--or materially the same? +Are your judges free from the coercion of strong interests? Are your +jurors all willing to die for their duty?" After a brief silence he +added: "Why, Mr. Sidney, you came here yourself ostensibly in the +interest of friends and relatives who were unwilling to let this murder +go 'unwhipped of justice'--them were your words. Yet we all know that +you're the chief lawyer for a railroad that hasn't ever been famed for +altruism." + +The visitor flushed. + +"While you were working up this evidence," inquired his honor, "did you +go out and try to talk to Bear Cat Stacy?" + +"Certainly not. He's an outlaw--whom your deputies failed to bring in +when I had a subpoena issued. My life wouldn't be worth tuppence if I +tried to get to him." + +Judge Renshaw smiled somewhat grimly. + +"Yes, they call him an outlaw--but he swings a power right now that +this high court doesn't pretend to have. He's the one man that Kinnard +fears--and maybe he'd help you if the two of you could get together." + +"A lawyer should not have to be his own process-server," was the retort +of offended dignity. + +"No--neither ought a judge." Renshaw took the cigar from his mouth and +studied it. Then he spoke slowly: + +"Mr. Sidney, there's nothing further I can do, but--put it on whatever +ground you like--I'll make a suggestion. I'm beginning to doubt if +Kinnard Towers is going to remain supreme here much longer. I think his +power is on the wane. If you will make a motion to swear me off the +bench for the duration of these proceedin's--and can persuade the +governor to send a special judge and prosecutor here--I'll gladly +vacate. Then you can bring your soldier boys and see what that will +effect. That's the best satisfaction I can give you--but if I were you, +since you have no patience with men that consider personal risks--I'd +talk with this Stacy first. Of course, Kinnard Towers won't like that." + +Mr. Sidney rose, piqued at the suggestion of timidity, into a sudden +announcement. "Very well," he said, "I'll ride over there to Little +Slippery to-night--to hell with this bugaboo Towers!" + +"If I lived as far away as you do," suggested the judge, "I might allow +myself to say, Amen to that sentiment." + +Mr. Sidney did not, in point of fact, go that night, but he did a few +days later. Had he known it, he was safe enough. Kinnard Towers had no +wish just then to hurl a challenge into the teeth of the whole state by +harming a distinguished member of the metropolitan bar, but before +George Sidney started out, the Quarterhouse leader had knowledge of his +mission, and surmised that he would be sheltered at the house of Joel +Fulkerson. + +When the lawyer arrived the old preacher was standing by the gate of +his yard with a letter in his hand, that had arrived a little while +before. It was from an anonymous writer and its message was this: "If +you aid the lawyer from Louisville, in any fashion whatsoever, or take +him into your house, it will cost you your life." + +Brother Fulkerson had been wondering whether to confide to any one the +receipt of that threat. Heretofore factional bitterness had always +passed him by. Now he decided to dismiss the matter without alarming +his friends with its mention. + +As he strode forward to welcome the stranger, he absently tore the +crumpled sheet of paper to bits and consigned it to the winds. + +"I am George Sidney," announced the man who was sliding from his +saddle, stiff-limbed from a long ride. "I'm trying to effect the +punishment of your son-in-law's murder, and I've come to your house." + +"Ye're welcome," said the evangelist simply, and there was no riffle of +visible misgiving in his eyes. "Come right in an' set ye a cheer." + +Two days later Mr. Sidney rode away again, but in an altered frame of +mind. He had met Bear Cat Stacy and was disposed to talk less +slightingly of outlaws. He had even seen a thing that had made the +flesh creep on his scalp and given to his pulses such a wild thrill as +they had not known since boyhood. He had watched a long line of black +horsemen, masked and riding single-file with flambeaux along a narrow +road between encompassing shadows. He had heard the next day of a +"blind tiger" raided, and of an undesirable citizen who had been +sentenced to exile--though related by blood ties to the leader of the +vigilance committee. + +It was sitting in the lounging-room of his Louisville Club a week later +that he unfolded his morning paper and read the following item--and the +paper dropped from his hand which had become suddenly nerveless. + +"Joel Fulkerson," he read, after the first shock of the head-lines, "a +mountain evangelist, whose work had brought him into prominence even +beyond the hills of Marlin County, was shot to death yesterday while +riding on a mission of mercy through a thickly wooded territory. Since, +even in the bitterest feud days, Fulkerson was regarded as the friend +of all men and all factions, it is presumed that the unknown assassin +mistook him for some one other than himself." + +George Sidney took an early train to Frankfort, and that same day sat +in conference with the governor. + +"It's a strange story," said the chief executive at length, "and the +remedy you suggest is even stranger--but this far I will go. If you +swear Renshaw off the bench, I will name a temporary judge and set a +special term of court, to convene at once. The rest comes later, and we +will take it up as we reach it." + + * * * * * + +Once more, just after that, Bear Cat Stacy stood again with Blossom by +a new-made grave, but this time he came openly. Those kinsmen who saw +him there were of one mind, and had he spoken the word, they would have +followed him through blood to vengeance. But Stacy, with the hardest +effort of his life, held them in check. It would mar the peaceful sleep +of that gentle soul whom they were laying to rest, he thought, to +punish bloody violence with other bloody violence--and in his mind a +more effective plan was incubating. + +All that he would tell the grim men who met in conclave that night, +ready to don their masks and fare forth, was that this was, above all +others, an occasion for biding their time. "But I pledges ye faithful," +he declared in a voice that shook with solemn feeling, "ye won't hev +need ter grow wearied with waitin'...." + +No Towers watchmen came in these days to Turner's house. They contented +themselves with keeping a vindictive vigil along the creeks and +tributaries where they were numerically stronger. Each day Turner came +to watch over Blossom with the quiet fidelity of a great dog. There was +little enough that he could do, but he came and looked at her with +hungry eyes out of a hungry heart, speaking no word of his own love, +but listening as she talked of her father. He sought in a hundred small +ways to divert her thoughts from the grim thing that had twice scarred +her life and taken the light out of her eyes. As he trudged back to his +house, where he had again taken up his residence, after these visits, +he walked with a set jaw and registered oaths of reprisal to take a +form new to the hills. + +As the days passed it was reported that on the motion of the +commonwealth, alleging bias and prejudice, Judge Renshaw had vacated +the bench, and that the governor had named a pro-tem. successor from +another district--and called a special term of court, to sit at Marlin +Town. + +Kinnard Towers heard that news with a smile of derision. "Let 'em bring +on thar jedges an' soldiers," he said complacently. "Ther law still +fo'ces 'em ter put native names in ther jury wheel an' I reckon no +grand jury thet dwells hyar-abouts won't hardly indict me ner no petty +jury convict me." + +So it was something of a shock to his confidence when he heard that he, +Black Tom Carmichael and Sam Carlyle had been indicted for conspiracy +to commit murder. Even that he regarded as merely an annoyance, for as +one of the grand jurors had hastened to assure him: "Hit war jest a +sort of a formality, Kinnard. We knowed ther little jury would cl'ar +you-all an' hit looked more legal-like ter let hit come up fer trial." + +But the bringing of those indictments was really a tribute to the +dawning power of Kinnard's enemies. The thing was intended as a +compromise by which the grand jury should satisfy the Stacys and the +petit jury should mollify Towers by acquitting him later. + +Kinnard knew that Sam Carlyle had gone to Oklahoma, and that without +him any prosecution must fail--but he did not know that the prosecution +had already located him there and taken steps to extradite him. + +Then one day, Bear Cat received a summons by mail to meet George Sidney +in Frankfort, and since secrecy was the essence of the plan they had +already discussed in embryo, he went in a roundabout way through +Virginia and came back into Kentucky at Hagen. He was absent for a week +and toward its end he found himself, under the escort of the Louisville +lawyer, standing in the private office of the chief executive himself. +Turner had never seen a city before. He had never met a man of such +consequence, but the governor himself brought to the interview a +dignity no more unabashed. + +"This is the young man of whom I spoke, governor," said Sidney. "He has +given his community the nearest approach it has known to placing +sobriety and humanity above lawlessness. There are two men down there +who run things. Towers owns the courts and--maintains feudalism. This +young man heads an organization of night-riders--and challenges Towers. +It's the young against the old: the modern spirit against the ancient +habit." + +The governor subjected Bear Cat Stacy to an inquisitorial +scrutiny--which was met with a glance as undeviating. + +"I am told that it has been impossible in your country," he began, "to +enforce the attendance of witnesses and even of defendants at court. I +am also told that you believe you can alter this." + +Turner nodded gravely. "I kin fetch 'em in--dead or alive," he said +with bold directness. "All I needs air ter be told who ter git." + +"Dead witnesses," remarked the chief executive, "are very little use to +any tribunal. If these men are your avowed enemies and in your power, +why have you held your hand?" + +Bear Cat flushed and though he spoke quietly there was the bell-like +ring of ardor in his voice. "My power hain't ther law," he said. "I +aims fer sich betterment as kain't come save by law: a betterment that +kin last when I'm dead an' gone." + +"This is the case, governor," interposed the lawyer. "The courts there +are a bitter jest. Kinnard Towers operates a stronghold which is a +pest-spot and breeding-nest of crime and debauchery. There is one +agency only that can drag him out of it. That agency this man +represents--and heads." + +"Then if you are sent out, during this session of court," inquired the +executive, "you agree to bring in whatever men are called to +attendance?" + +"Dead or alive--yes," reiterated Stacy with inflexible persistency. + +"Unfortunately," smiled the great man, "the legislature, in its wisdom, +has vested in me no power to instruct any citizen to deprive other +citizens, however undesirable, of their lives. Whoever undertakes such +an enterprise must do so on his own responsibility--and, despite the +worthiness of his motive, he faces a strong chance of the death +penalty." + +There was a brief pause, as the lawyer and his protege rose to depart, +and the governor shook Bear Cat's hand. "You are a picturesque person, +Mr. Stacy. I hope to hear more of you." Then as a quizzical twinkle +wrinkled the corner of his eyes he added: "I almost think it is a pity +that I have no power to authorize your wading in free-handed--but it's +not within my official scope." + +Bear Cat was standing straight and looking with searching gravity into +the face of the governor. There seemed an odd variance between the +words and the spirit back of the words, and then he saw the tall man +with the distinguished face engage his glance with something intangibly +subtle--and he saw one dignified eye deliberately close leaving its +mate open. The governor of the commonwealth had winked at him--and he +understood the perplexing variance between words and spirit. + +Outside, in a corridor of the state building, Bear Cat laid a hand on +Sidney's arm. + +"When ther time comes," he said shortly, "I'll be ready. I wants thet +ye should hev hit give out in Marlin Town, thet ye sought ter persuade +me, but that I wouldn't hev nuthin' more ter do with aidin' state +co'tes then I would with revenuers." And that was the message that +percolated through the hills. + +When Turner returned home he went first to Blossom's cabin, his heart +full of thoughts of her and sympathy for her loneliness. Old days there +swarmed into memory, and just to see her, even now that he counted for +so little, meant a great deal to him. But in the road, at first sight +of the house, he halted in astonishment--for the chimney was +smokeless--and when he hurried forward his dismay grew into something +like panic as he found the windows blankly shuttered and the door +nailed up. + +Hastening to his own house, he demanded in a strained voice of fright. +"Whar air she, maw? Whar's Blossom at?" + +The old woman rose and took from the mantel-shelf a folded sheet of +paper which she handed him without a word of explanation, and with +shaking fingers he opened and read it. + +"Dear Turney," she said, and her round chirography had run wild as +weeds with the disturbed mood of that composition, "I can't bear it +here any longer. I'm going away--for always. Jerry left a little money +and the lawyers have paid it to me. It's not much, but it's enough. +These mountains are beautiful--but they are full of misery--and +memories that haunt me day and night. You have been more than good to +me and I'll always pray for you. I don't know yet where I'll go. With +love, Blossom." + +Turner sagged into a chair by the hearth-stone and the paper dropped +from his inert fingers. His face became very drawn and he silently +licked lips which burned with a dry feverishness. + + * * * * * + +The special session of court convened in Marlin Town with a quiet that +lacked any tang of genuine interest. These fiascos had come before and +passed without result. Since Bear Cat Stacy had permitted it to be +understood that he would hold aloof, no strength would challenge the +sway of Kinnard Towers, save a "fotched on" judge and a few white-faced +lawyers who wore stiff collars. They had not even brought tin soldiers +this time nor dignified the occasion with a Gatling gun. + +Towers himself remained comfortably at the Quarterhouse, and if he had +about him a small army of men its protection of rifle-muzzles pointed +toward Little Slippery rather than Marlin Town. A posse would come, of +course, since even his own courts must follow the forms and pretenses +of the statutes made and provided, but their coming, too, would be a +formality. + +Outside a late winter storm had turned into a blizzard and though he +did not often spend his evenings at the bar, Kinnard was to-night +leaning with his elbow on its high counter. His blond face was suave +and his manner full of friendliness, because men who were anxious to +display their solicitude were coming in to denounce the farce of the +trial inagurated by "furriners" and to proclaim their sympathy. It was +all incense to his undiminished dominance, thought Towers, and it +pleased him to meet such amenities with graciousness. + +"Any time now--any time at all," he laughed, "them turrible deputy +sheriffs air liable ter come bustin' through thet door, and drag me off +ter ther jail-house." As he uttered this pleasantry, the assembled +cohorts shouted their laughter. It was as diverting as to hear a +battle-scarred tom-cat express panic over a mouse. "Howsoever, I hain't +a shettin' no doors. They all stands open," added Kinnard. + +Then, even as he spoke, the telephone jangled. It was a neighborhood +wire which connected only a few houses in a narrow radius, but the +voice that sounded through the receiver was excited. The proprietor of +the lawless stronghold listened and made some unruffled reply, then +turned to his audience a smiling face on which was written amusement. + +"Well, boys," he genially inquired, "what did I tell ye? Thar's a scant +handful of deputy sheriffs a-ridin' over hyar right now. They're within +a measured mile of this place at ther present minute." + +A low hum of voices rose in apprehensive notes, but Kinnard lifted his +hand. + +"You men needn't feel no oneasiness, I don't reckon," he assured them. +"They hain't got nothin' erginst ther balance of ye. Hit's jest me they +aims ter drag off ter ther calaboose--an' es I said afore, I'm leavin' +my doors wide open." + +As an indication of his confidence he ordered his bartender to fill all +glasses, and beamed benignly on the recipients of his hospitality, +while he awaited the minions of the law. + +"They hed ought ter be hyar by now, them turrible fellers," he +suggested at length, and as if in answer to his speech a sound of heavy +steps sounded just outside the door. + +A small posse stamped into the room, and the excellent jest of the +entire situation became more pointed as men noted with what a +shamefaced bearing they presented themselves. + +"Kinnard," began the chief-deputy in an embarrassment which almost +choked him, "I've got ter put ye under arrest. You an' Tom Carmichael +thar, both. Ye're charged with murder." + +The crowd wanted to laugh again, but because of their curiosity they +desisted. Towers himself stepped back two paces. + +"Gentlemen," he said blandly, "ye'll hev ter git papers fust from ther +governor of Virginny." He swept his hand toward the white line on the +floor. "Ye hain't hardly got no license ter foller me outen old +Kaintuck. Thar's ther leetle matter of a state line lyin' atween us." + +They had all known that Towers would handle the situation with a +triumph of resource, and a subdued murmur of applause and adulation +rose from many bewhiskered lips, as the posse withdrew slowly to the +threshold over which it had entered. + +Then they became deadly quiet, for a voice had spoken from the Virginia +door. "Hold on!" + +They wheeled and saw a single figure there, unarmed, and hands began +going to holsters. + +"Virginny and Kaintuck looks right-smart alike ter me," said Bear Cat +Stacy with the level voice of one who has long waited his moment and +finds it at hand. "Will ye all lay down yore arms, and surrender ther +men we wants--or will ye stand siege an' have this pest-house burnt +down over yore heads? I'll wait outside for an answer." + +The amazement of the moment had held them gripped in tableau as he +spoke, but when he stepped swiftly back, a dozen pistols spat and +barked at him, and then, louder than the firing, they heard a circle of +song--compassing the stockaded building on all sides--a giant chorus +that swelled in the frosty air: "Mine Eyes have seen the Glory of the +Coming of the Lord." + +Kinnard Towers' self-assurance fell away from him. His hand was +unsteady as he raised it and said huskily; "Boys, we needs must fight." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + + +The volume of the singing out there and the flare of the ruddy torches, +left no doubt as to the substantial strength of the force which had +swept aside such legal technicalities as state jurisdiction. + +When Bear Cat had trusted himself so recklessly on the threshold while +the opposite door still stood open, the spectral figures with masked +faces could have streamed in, wave on wave, to smother out any +up-flaming spirit of resistance, but in doing that there would have +been hand-to-hand conflict, in which the innocent must pay as heavy and +ultimate a penalty as the guilty. + +So Turner had withdrawn, and permitted the barring of the doors--though +he knew that the structure had the solid strength of square-sawed oak +and that the besieged scores were fully armed. Now from the outside he +hammered on the massive panels with a rifle butt. + +"Ef ye wants ter send a man out hyar ter parley with me," he shouted +through the heavy barrier, "I gives ye my pledge that he kin go back +safe. Ef ye don't see fit ter do thet, we've got ter believe thet ye're +all one stripe, resistin' arrest, and we aims ter set this hell-house +ter ther torch." + +"Let me have five minutes ter study erbout hit," Towers gave answer, +then he turned to the men inside. "Go upsta'rs, Tom," he directed +swiftly, "an' look out. Let me know how many thar seems ter be of 'em." + +Carmichael, peering out of dark windows above, saw against the snow, +innumerable sable figures bulking formidably in the red flare of +blazing pine fagots. Other torches burned with a menacing assurance of +power beyond them along the road, and far up the distant slopes +glittered reinforcements of scattered tongues of flame. + +The figures nearest at hand stood steady with an ominous and spectral +stillness, and their ghostliness was enhanced by the fitful torch-light +in which the whole picture leaped and subsided with a phantom +uncertainty of line and mass. + +Black Tom came back and shook his head. "Hit hain't no manner of use," +he announced. "We mout es well give up. I reckon we kin still come +cl'ar in co'te." + +But the old lion, whose jaws and fangs had always proved strong enough +to crush, was of no mind to be caged now. + +"Come cl'ar! Hell's blazes!" he roared with a livid face. "Don't ye see +what's done come ter pass? He'll take these damn' outlaws over thar an' +no jury won't dast ter cl'ar us. If we quits now we're done." + +Towers leaped, with an astonishing agility to the counter of the bar +and raised his clenched fists high above his head. + +"Men!" he thundered, "hearken ter me! Don't make no mistake in thinkin' +thet ef ye goes out thar, ye'll hev any mercy showed ye. This is ther +finish fight betwixt all ther customs of yore blood--an' this damn' +outlaw's new-fangled tyranny! He don't aim jest ter jail me an' Tom--he +aims ter wipe out every mother's son thet's ever been a friend ter me. + +"We've got solid walls around us now--but any man thet goes out thar, +goes straight ter murder. Es fer me I don't aim ter be took alive--air +ye of ther same mind? Will ye fight?" + +His flaming utterance found credence in their befuddled minds. They +could not conceive of merciful treatment from the man they had hounded +and sought for months to murder from ambush. Inside at least they could +die fighting, and nods of grim assent gave their answer. + +"Ther stockade hain't no good now," Towers reminded them. "They're +already inside hit, but from them upsta'r winders we kin still rake 'em +severe an' plentiful whilst they're waitin' fer our answer. Let them +winders be filled with men, but don't let no man shoot till he heers my +pistol--then all tergether--an' give 'em unshirted hell." + +So, answering the reprieve with deceit, the block house, which had, for +a generation, been an infamous seat of power, remained silent until a +pistol snapped out and then from every window leaped spiteful jets of +powder lightning and the solid roar of a united volley. That was the +answer and as a light clatter of sliding breech bolts followed the +crescendo, its defenders went on shooting, more raggedly now, as fast +as each man could work his repeater. A chorused bellow of defiance was +hurled outward as they fired. + +Yet from out there came no response of musketry and, after all, the +deceitful effort to convert the period of parley into a paralyzing blow +had failed. Few flambeaux had been blazing in the space between the +stockade and the house itself, and the ponderous eight-foot wall of +logs built to make the place a fortress had become a protection for the +besiegers so that only a few scattered figures fell. Then, with amazing +unanimity of action, the torches were thrust down and quenched in the +snow. + +But Bear Cat Stacy himself had remained flattened against the door, too +close to be seen from any window, and at his feet was a can of +kerosene. + +The glow from a match-end became first a slender filament of flame +which widened to a greedy blanket as it lapped at the oil and spread +crackling up the woodwork of the door's frame. Then, gathering a swift +and mighty force, it laid a frenzied and roaring mantle of destruction +upon the integrity of the walls themselves. + +From inside came a chorused howl of bitter wrath and despair, and as +Bear Cat turned and ran for it, crossing the space between door and +stockade, he went through a hail of lead--and went with the old charm +still holding him safe. + +The Quarterhouse was strong enough to laugh at rifles, but to flame it +was tinder-like food. The roar and crackle of its glutting soon drowned +the howls of its imprisoned victims. Maddened with the thought that, +having refused parley, their lives were forfeit unless they could cut +their way out, they raved like dying maniacs. The glare reddened and +inflamed the skies and sent out a rain of soaring sparks that was seen +from many miles away. + +The Virginia door was obliterated in a blanket of flame, but abruptly +the Kentucky door vomited a stream of desperate men, running and +shooting as they came. Then, for the first time, the cordon of rifles +that held them in its grip gave voice. + +Between the house-door and the stockade, figures fell, grotesque in the +glare, and those that did not fall wheeled and rushed back within the +blazing walls. But in there was an unendurable furnace. They shouted +and raved, choking with the suffocation of foul smoke waves like the +demoralized shapes of madmen in some lurid inferno. + +Then standing at the one door which still afforded a chance of exit, +Kinnard Towers for the last time raised his arms. + +"Throw down yore guns, men, an' go out with yore hands up," he yelled, +seeking to be heard above the din of conflagration. "Myself, I aims ter +stay hyar!" + +A few caught the words and plunged precipitately out, unarmed, with +hands high in surrender; and others, seeing that they did not fall, +followed with a sheep-like imitation--but some, already struggling with +the asphyxiation that clawed at their throats, writhed uneasily on the +floor--and then lay motionless. + +Kinnard Towers, with a bitter despair in his eyes, and yet with the +leonine glare of defiance unquenched, stood watching that final +retreat. He saw that at the stockade gate, they were being passed out +and put under guard. It was in his own mind, when he had been left +quite alone to walk deliberately out, fighting until he fell. + +About him the skies were red and angry. His death would come with a +full and pyrotechnic illumination, seen of all men, and it would at +least be said of him that he had never yielded. + +So picking up a rifle from the floor, he deliberately examined its +magazine and efficiency. After that he stepped out, paused on the +doorstep, and fired defiantly at the open gate of the stockade. + +There was a spatter of bullets against the walls at his back, but he +stood uninjured and defiantly laughing. Without haste he walked +forward. Then a tall figure, with masked face came running toward him +and he leveled the rifle at its breast. But he was close to the gate +now, and the man plunged in, in time to strike his barrel up and bear +him to the ground. + +Outside the stockade stood, herded, the prisoners, and at their front, +the posse of deputies brooded over Kinnard Towers and Tom Carmichael, +both shamefully hand-cuffed. + +Bear Cat Stacy looked over his captives who, taking their cue from +Towers himself, remained doggedly silent. + +"You men," he said crisply, "all save these two kin go home now--but +when ther co'te needs ye ye've got ter answer--an ye've got ter speak +ther truth." + +As they listened in surprised silence Turner's voice became sterner: +"Ef ye lies ter ther High co'te thar's another co'te thet ye kain't lie +ter. Now begone." + +Then Bear Cat turned to the tall figure that had defeated Kinnard's +determination to die uncaptured. + +"We've done seed ther manner of yore fightin'," he said in the voice of +one who would confer the accolade. "Now let's see what manner of face +ye w'ars. I reckon we don't need ter go masked no longer, anyhow." + +The mountaineer ripped off his hat and the black cloth which had +covered his face--and Turner Stacy stood looking into the eyes of Lone +Stacy, his father. For an instant he leaned forward incredulously, and +his voice was strangely unsteady. + +"How did ye git hyar," he demanded. + +"They kept puttin' off my trial--ontil I reckon they wearied of hit," +was the grave response. "Day before yistiddy ther jedge dismissed my +case." + +"But no man hain't nuver been with us afore without he was +oath-bound--how did ye contrive hit?" + +The old man smiled. "Dog Tate 'lowed I could take ther oath an' all +ther rest of ther formalities in due time. He fixed me up an' brought +me along. This hyar war a matter thet I was right interested in." + +"I 'lowed," Turner's voice fell to a more confidential note, "I 'lowed +ye mout be right wrathful at all I've been doin' since ye went away. Ye +used ter berate me fer not lovin' blockadin'." + +There was a momentary silence. The bearded man, somewhat thinner and +more bent than when he had gone away to prison, and the son with a face +more matured by these weeks and months, stood gazing into each other's +eyes. To the reserve of each, outspoken sentiment came hard and even +now both felt an intangible barrier of diffidence. + +Then Lone Stacy answered gruffly, but there was an unsteadiness of +feeling under his laconic reply. + +"I've done showed ye how wrathful I air. I'm tolable old--but I reckon +I kin still l'arn." + + * * * * * + +Even when Kinnard Towers sat a prisoner in the courtroom which he had +dominated, and heard Sam Carlyle, seeking to save his own neck by +turning traitor, tell the lurid story of all his iniquities, an +unbending doggedness characterized his attitude. As his eyes dwelt on +the henchman who was swearing away his life, they burned so scornfully +that the witness twisted and fidgeted and glanced sidewise with hangdog +shame. + +When the jury trooped in and stood lined solemnly before the bench, he +gazed out of the window where the hills were beginning to soften their +slaty monotone with a hint of tender green. He did not need to hear +them respond to the droning inquiries of the clerk, because he had read +the verdict in their faces long before. + +But when they had, for greater security, removed him to the Louisville +jail and had put him in that row of cells reserved for those whose +lives are forfeit to the law, it is doubtful whether that masklike +inexpressiveness truly mirrored an inward phlegm. + +There was an electric lamp fixed against the iron bars of the death +corridor, turned inward like a spot-light of shame which was never +dimmed either day or night--and there was a warden who paced the place, +never leaving him unwatched--and Kinnard Towers had lived in places +where eagles breed and where the air is wild and bites the lungs with +its tang of freedom. + + * * * * * + +It was June again--June full-bosomed and tuneful with the over-spilling +melody of birds. Over the tall peaks arched a sky of such a pure and +colorful blue that it, too, seemed to sing--and the little clouds that +drifted placidly along were like the lazy sails of pleasure craft, +floating in high currents. Along the dimmest and most distant ridges +lay a violet mist that was all ash-of-dreams--but near at hand, whether +on the upper levels of high hills or down in the shadowed recesses, +where the small waters trickled, everything was color--color, bloom and +song. + +The rhododendron, which the mountaineer calls laurel, was abloom. The +laurel, which is known in hill parlance as ivy, was gay with +pink-hearted blossom. The mountain magnolia flaunted its great petals +of waxen while and the wild rose nodded its frail face everywhere. + +But these were details. Over the silver tinkle of happy little brooks +was the low but infinite harping of the breeze, and over the glint of +golden flecks on mossy rock, was the sweep of sunlight and shadow +across the majesty of towering peaks and the league-wide spread of +valleys. + +The hills were all singing of summer and rebirth, but as Bear Cat Stacy +went riding across them his eyes were brooding with the thought of +dreams that had not come true. + +Many of them had come true, he told himself, in their larger +aspects--even though he found himself miserably unsatisfied. There was +a large reward in the manner of men and women who paused in their tasks +of "drappin' an' kiverin'" along the sloping cornfields to wave their +hats or their hands at him and to shout cheery words. + +Those simple folk looked upon him as one who had led them out of +bondage to a wider freedom, instilling into them a spirit of +enterprise. + +One farmer halted his plow and came to the fence as Bear Cat was riding +by. + +"I heers tell," he began, "thet ther whole world, pretty nigh, air at +war an' thet corn's goin' ter be wuth money enough, this crop, ter pay +fer haulin' hit." + +Stacy nodded. "I reckon that's right," he said. + +"An' I heers thet, deespite all contrary accounts, ther railroad aims +ter come in hyar--an' pay fa'r prices." + +Turner smiled. "They had ter come round to it," he answered. "There are +more tons of coal in Marlin county than there are dollars in Jefferson +county, and Jefferson county is the richest in the state." + +The farmer rested his fore-arms on the top rail of the fence and gazed +at the young man on horseback. + +"I reckon us folks are right-smart beholden ter ye, Bear Cat," he +suggested diffidently. "With a chief like you, we'll see prosperity +yit." + +"We don't have no chiefs here," declared the young man with a +determined setting of his jaw. "We're all free and equal. The last +chief was Kinnard Towers--and he's passed on." + +"None-the-less, hit wouldn't amaze me none ter see ye git ter be the +president of this hull world," declared the other with simple +hero-worship. "Whar are ye ridin' ter?" + +"I'm going over into Fletcher county to see that school there. I'm +hopin' that we can have one like it over here." + +The farmer nodded. "I reckon we kin manage hit," he affirmed. + +Turner had heard much of that school to which Matthew Blakey had taken +his three children--so much that all of it could hardly be true. Now he +was going to see for himself. + +But his thoughts, as he rode, were beyond his control and memories of +Blossom crowded out the more impersonal things. + +At last he came to a high backbone of ridge. From there he ought to be +able to catch his first glimpse of the tract which the school had +redeemed from overgrown raggedness into a model farm, but as yet the +dense leafage along the way cut off the view of the valley. + +Then he came to a more open space and reined in his horse, and as he +looked out his eyes widened in astonishment. + +Spreading below him, he saw such even and gracious spaces of +cultivation as were elsewhere unknown to the hills. + +Down there the fences were even and the fields smooth, but what +astonished him most were the buildings. Clustered over a generous +expanse of hill and valley, of field and garden all laid out as though +some landscape gardener had made it a labor of love, were houses such +as he had dreamed of--houses with dignity of line and proportion, with +architectural beauty of design. + +Everything, even at that distance, could be seen to be substantially +designed for usefulness, and yet everything combined with that prime +object of service the quality of art. + +He was looking down on a tiny village, uncrowded and nestling on the +varied levels of an undulating valley, and he counted out a dozen +houses, recognizing some of them--the tiny hospital on its hill--the +model dairies at one edge--the saw-mill sending out its fragrance--the +dormitories with sleeping porches and the school-buildings themselves. +This was what he had visioned--and yet he realized how cramped had been +his dream as he urged his tired horse forward and listened to the +whistle of a bob-white in the stubble. + +"Ef Blossom could know that we're goin' ter have a school like this +over there!" he breathed to himself. Then as he rode along the twisting +descent of road, between park-like forest trees and masses of +rhododendron, and dismounted before a large house he saw a broad porch +with a concrete foundation, and easy chairs and tables littered with +magazines and books. From the door came a lady, smiling to greet him. +It was Miss Pendleton, the woman who from small beginnings had built +here in the wilderness such an achievement, and as she came to the +stairs she held out her hand. + +"I've been greatly interested in your letters, Mr. Stacy," she said, +"and I don't see why we can't repeat over there what we have done here. +We have grown from very small beginnings--and now I want to show you +around our premises--unless you are too tired." + +With wonderment that grew, he followed her, and a swarm of happy-faced +children went with them; children keen of eye and rosy of cheek, and +when they had inspected together the buildings where the pupils were +taught from books, and the dairies and gardens where they were taught +by practice, the lady showed him into a log house as artistic and +charming as a swiss chalet and said: "This will be your abiding place +while you're here. I'll send one of the boys to see that you have +everything you need--and later on I'll introduce you to a lady who is +much interested in your plans for a school on Little Slippery and who +can discuss the details." + +Left alone on the porch of his "pole-house," Bear Cat sat gazing upward +to the American flag that floated from a tall staff before his door, +and as he did so a small boy with clear and intelligent eyes came and +said: "I've done been named ter look atter ye." + +In the young face was none of that somber shyness which shadows the +faces of many mountain children. Turner put his hand on the boy's head. +"Thank you, son," he said slowly. "Haven't I seen you before somewhar?" + +The boy laughed. "I remembers _you_" he asserted. "I seed ye when my +paw was fotchin' me an' my brother an' sister over hyar. I'm Matthew +Blakey's boy." + +"You had right-sore eyes then, didn't you?" + +The child laughed. "I did then--but I hain't now." After a moment's +pause he added with a note of pride: "See thet flag? Hit's ther +American flag an' hit's my job ter put hit up every day at sun-up an' +take hit down at sun-set. I aims ter show ye right now how I does hit." + +Bear Cat met young women from Eastern colleges who had come here to aid +in the work. In their presence he felt very uncouth and ignorant, but +they did not suspect that inner admission. They saw a young man who +reminded them of a bronze athlete, with clear and fearless eyes, +touched with a dreamer's zeal, and in his manner they recognized a +simple dignity and an inherent chivalry. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + + +On the porch of Miss Pendleton's house that night, guitars were +tinkling. From inside came the glow of shaded lamps softly amber--and +outside along the hillsides where the whippoorwills called plaintively, +slept a silver wash of moonlight. + +The stars were large and low-hanging and a pale mist tempered the +slopes that rose in a nocturne of majesty and peace. + +Bear Cat Stacy sat there immersed in reverie. He was seeing such a +school grow up on the spot where he had hoped to build a house for +Blossom and himself--then that vision faded and his face grew set +because the other and more personal picture had intervened--the picture +of the dwelling-house to which he had looked forward. + +He did not notice that the guitars and the singing voices had come to +silence, and that the white patches of the women's dresses had vanished +from the shaded porch--he was looking out into the summer mists--and +thinking his own thoughts. + +Then he heard Miss Pendleton's voice, and came out of his abstraction +with a start, looking about to realize for the first time that the two +of them stood alone out there. + +"Now you must talk business," smiled the lady. "I haven't introduced +you yet to the person who is best of all fitted to discuss the details. +She knows just what we seek to do here and how we do it. She knows the +needs of mountain children, too--because she is a mountain girl +herself. She came here really as a pupil--but she's much more than that +now. She teaches the younger children while she studies herself--and +she has developed a positive genius for this work." + +Miss Pendleton paused and then added: "I'm going to let the two of you +talk together first--and then I'll join you." + +Bear Cat rose and stood courteously acquiescent, then his hostess left +him and he saw another figure appear to stand framed in the door. His +heart rose out of his breast into the throat and choked him, for he +believed that his dreaming had unsettled his mind. + +There stood Blossom with the amber light kindling her soft hair into a +nimbus of radiance, and in her cheeks was the old color like the heart +of the laurel's flower. + +She stood slim and straight, no longer pallid or thin, and in her eyes +danced a light of welcome. + +"Blossom," he stammered--and she left her frame and its amber +background to come forward--with her hands extended. + +"Turney," was all she said. + +"How came you here?" he demanded, forgetting to release her slim hands. +"How did this come to pass?" + +She looked out over the blue and silver leagues of the June night, and +said simply. "There's lots to tell you--let's go out there and talk." + +They were standing on a great bowlder where the moss and ferns grew, +and about them twinkled myriads of fireflies. They had been silent for +a long time and Turner's voice had a strained note as he said slowly. +"I promised ye ... thet I wouldn't ever pester ye again with ... +love-making ... but to-night it's right hard ter keep thet pledge." + +The breeze was stirring her hair and her own eyes were deep as she +gazed away, but suddenly she turned and her long lashes were raised as +she met his gaze. + +"I don't want ... that you should keep it," she whispered. "I give you +back your pledge." + +As in those old days the hills seemed to rock about him and the arms +that came forward and paused were unsteady. + +"Ye means ... thet...." + +"I means thet I loved ye first, Turney." The words came tremulously, +almost whispered, and in them was something of self-accusation. "Maybe +I ought to be ashamed--but somehow I can't. All of what happened seems +to me like a dream that doesn't really belong in my life. It seems to +me that I was dazzled and couldn't tell the true from the seeming.... +It seems as I look back that a little piece of my life was torn loose +from the rest--but that the real me has always been yours." + +She laid her hands on his shoulders, and as he caught her in his arms, +the light breath of the night breeze brought the fragrance of +honeysuckle to them both. She rested for a moment in his embrace with +the serene feeling that she was at home. + +Between them fell a silence but in the bath of silvery light through +the fragrant stillness of dove gray night-tones and cobalt shadows the +girl's eyes were brightly eloquent. Yet after a moment a shade of +troubling thought came into them and the lips moved into the +tremulousness of a self-searching and somewhat self-accusing whisper. + +"Turney," she said, "there's one thing that I've got to say--and I +guess it had better be now." + +"If it's any fault you're finding with yourself--don't say it," he +protested as his hands closed over her slender fingers. "There ain't +anything that I need to have explained. I reckon I understand what +happiness means and that's enough." + +But Blossom shook her head. + +"If I'd been straight loyal--like you've been, Turney, I reckon I +couldn't ever have made any mistake. There wouldn't ever have been room +for anybody but you." She paused and then went falteringly ahead. "From +now on there won't ever be. You've known me always and yet even you +can't realize how young and foolish and _plumb_ ignorant I was a year +ago. If I'd been just a _little_ more experienced, it couldn't have +happened. If things hadn't come with such a rush after they began, that +I was just swept along like a log in a spring-tide--it couldn't have +happened." It seemed difficult for her to force the words, but she +obeyed the mandate of her conscience with the candor of the +confessional. "I never had the chance to think--until I came over here +and began looking back. A person like I was doesn't think very clear in +the midst of cyclones and confusions, and I didn't see that the real +bigness was in you--more than in--him. I didn't see it until later. I'd +grown up with you, and I took you too much for granted, I reckon, and +everything he said or did seemed like a scrap out of a fairy story to +my foolish mind." + +There was one thing she did not tell him, even now; that she had +learned at last through the lawyers what her husband's connection with +the railroad plans had been. Back of all his fascination there had been +a tarnished honesty, but that secret she still kept to herself. + +But she lifted eyes to Turner that were wide open for his reading, and +gravely she said: "I lost my way once--but I've found it again and if +you can forget what a little fool I was at sixteen, you won't ever have +need to doubt me any more." + +"All thet's happened was worth goin' through--if it led to this," he +declared in a husky whisper, and as she raised her lips to his her eyes +were sparkling, and her words fell whimsically into dialect. + +"Thet piece of bottom land down thar, Turney--I reckon we kin raise a +dwellin'-house on hit now--a dwellin'-house an' a school-house, too." + + +THE END. + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's When 'Bear Cat' Went Dry, by Charles Neville Buck + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WHEN 'BEAR CAT' WENT DRY *** + +***** This file should be named 34057.txt or 34057.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/4/0/5/34057/ + +Produced by David Garcia and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Kentuckiana Digital Library) + + +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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