When 'Bear Cat' Went Dry Part 46

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. .h.i.t'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 l.u.s.ty 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 att.i.tude toward him must be determined. Was he to be regarded as a renegade or as one still ent.i.tled 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 d.a.m.ned furriner bewitched him, I reckon. He's jest rampagin' round with a pa.s.sel 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 d.a.m.n' 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 G.o.d," 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 G.o.d, 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. "G.o.d 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 mis...o...b..s 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 embarra.s.sing 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 partic.i.p.ate in getting the evidence before them, and in a.s.sisting 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."