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Chapter 3 No.3

Word Count: 3826    |    Released on: 01/12/2017

he went on to Asa Gregory's cabin his mind was unsettled with the ferment of conflicting standards. Heretofore Asa had been his sole and sufficient hero.

s bloomed a colour and maturity somewhat too full-blown for her twenty years. Asa had married the "purtiest gal" on five creeks, but the gipsy charm of her dark, provoca

ng, and, without removing his hat,

homicide. The threat of lurking enemies had shadowed the celebration of wedding and infare. She had borne his child while he sat in the prisoner's dock. Now she was weaning it while he went abroad under

he room that Boone, who sat hunched before the unkindled hearth, did not hear his entrance. But in the door-frame of the she

itchen, but Araminta Gregory did not sit down to meat with them. She would take her place at table when the lordlier sex had risen from it, satisfied, since s

o the primitive room, catching, here, the bright colour of drying pepper-pods strung along the rafters-there the duller glint of t

eans," but the boy, who was ordinarily ravenous, only dallied with his

to whose mind such an unaccustomed abstinence required explanation, an

Once again his thoughts enveloped him in a silence w

norrate thet hit's cowardly ter

ear-chiseled features pictured only surprise for the unexpected question-then they hardened

e ter ye, Boone?" he demanded in a t

Calloway he stood pledged to keep inviolate the confidence of their conversations

d somethin' ter thet amount." Suddenly with an inspirational light of augmented authority, he a

mptied its blade. Having done so, he spoke

rin' ther Carrs an' Blairs an' sich-like, I don't know nobody mean enough ter foller murderin'. Some

ed with his new-born misgivings, and read

nce ther war first started up betwixt us an' ther Carrs. Hit warn't none of my doin', but ever since then-off an' on-my kinsfolk an' yourn hes done been shot down from ther la'rel-an' we've done hit back an' sought ter hold ther score even-or a leetle mite better. I've got my choice atween bein' run

re needed defence. They had been axioms, y

below, when fellers fights,

out in ther highway an' tother lays back in ther timber, how long does ye reckon ther fi

fire threw dashes of orange high-lights on his temple and jaw angle and in neither pattern of featu

ioning, and her own face too stiffened. Asa was thinking of the malign warp and woof which had been woven into the destiny of his blood and of the uncertain tenure it imposed upo

ation and the gallows, and a wave of nauseating terror assailed her

ardly she added with a white-hot ferocity of passion, "Ef they lay-ways him, or hangs him, th

rawn halloo, and the poised hand swept smoothly sidewise until it had grasped the rifle and swung it clear of the floor. The eye could hardly have followed Asa's rise fr

s out

ton. I wants ter h

hands on his two shoulders. "Hit hain't sca'cely heedful fer ye ter show yoreself in no lighted doorway

let down the bar and ushered in a visitor who entered with something of a

on of manner he was a nondescript aping the tawdrily and cheaply urban. His dusty hat sat with an impuden

erized by the vices of each and the virtues of neither. In him highland shrewdness had deteriorated into furtive cunning, and mountain self-respect had tarnished into the dull discontent of class hatred. But when he came to the hills, clad in shoddy finery to visit men in honest homespu

interest, "thet politics is waxin' midd

ir heavy shoes and spread their bare toes to the warmth of the b

his time." The response came with oracular impressiveness while the speake

contributed Asa with tepid interest. "I 'lowed he hed a

p, but Saul straightened in his chair

tidin's ter upstandin' men like you. We're goin' ter need ye, an' onlessen we al

of a purring cat. "Oh, pshaw, Saul," he deprecated, "I don't take no master interest in politics nohow. I alwa

ther flat Bluegrass country an' I knows what I'm sayin'. Ther Democrat air es smart es Satan's circuit-rider. Y'ars back he jammed a crooked law through ther legislater jest a'lookin' forward

e threat of tyranny is hateful beyond words, and its invocation is a conjure spell of incitement. But at once Asa's face clear

ped all leash of decorum's restraint, he had been virulently inoculated with the virus of hate, and now, since his memory was tenacious, he swept

to a holy war, while his simple audience listened, yielding by subconscious stages t

t under th'ar feet. Even ther niggers scorns us an' calls us 'pore white trash.' When this man once gits in power he aims ter make us feel ther weight of h

edful," acquiesced Gregory; and Saul k

en into the veins of his hearers until it was not strange that their eye

ed his cigar stub impressively. "Troublesome days air a'comin' on an' us mountain m

f a man who has discovered the catc

he demanded shortly, and his

ate thet we've done made a truce to our enmities hyar at home, an' thet we all stands shoulder

k. From straight shoulders to straight legs he was as unmoving, for a space, as bronze, but when

ddy out thar with a Carr bullet drilled through his heart. Ther last time any man preached a truce ter us Gregorys we agreed ter hit-an' my daddy was lay-wayed an' shot ter death whilest we war still a'k

icult timbre of restraint and rang echoin

es thet's nighest me fust-an' them thet's further off atterwards. My God A'mighty, ef ye warn't my own

now she swept to her husband's side and turned upon he

anting transport of fury. "Asa kin safeguard his own so

tle hand on her trembling arm. Then he turned with regained composure to Saul, as he inquired:

y Fulton shook hi

an' all-thar won't be no hand raised erginst you ner yourn. I reckon ye kin bide yore time thet long, an' when this racket's over ye'll be plum free ter settle yore own scores

became one of deep meditation. He glanced at the bowl of his dead pipe, leaned forward and drew a b

deestrick. We don't need no truc

atics in tallyin' thet vote all over ther State. Up hyar we've got ter make up fer any deefault down below. We kain't do thet without we

Asa, "I hain't a'seekin' no

t ye? I reckon a Republican Governor, next time, mout be right willin' ter grant ye a pardon ef y

mine offer me?" inquired Asa coolly.

her incline.... A big lawyer from Loueyville is makin' a speech thar.... They wants thet I shell fotch ye back a

f he had been smitten in the face, bu

' them Carrs air all armed. Hit's jest you an' Tom thet hain't. When we comes inter ther place, Tom'll start down ther aisle to'rds ye-an' you'l

I'm hear

ey'll all ride home quiet as turtle-doves-an' take off th'ar coats ter beat this man fer Governor. Ef you an' Tom don't shake hands-or ef one or t'other of ye makes a single fightin' move,

er eyes," he commanded shortly, and, when Fulton rose, they stood, fac

ls of greenish-gray with an implacable searching,

thar at thet meetin' but them thet seeks my life. This may be what ye says hit is or hit may be a trap-but ye're a kinsm

came the prompt response,

. "Alright," he acceded curtly, "I'm a'goin' alo

d into her eyes she slowly nodded her head. "Ye're right," she said falteringly. "I was

aimless gropings. After a while she looked about a little wildly for Boone Wellver. It was something to have his co

to the night. He had said nothing, but he meant to follow the pair unseen, and

n uneasy whimper and Araminta went

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