Charles Egbert Craddock

“ One day—‘t war ‘bout two year’ ago—thar war a valley-man up hyar a-huntin’ in the mountings with some other fellers, an’ toward sunset he war a-waitin’ at a stand on a deer-path up thar nigh Headlong Creek, hopin’ ter git a shot whenst the deer went down to drink. Waal, I reckon luck war ag’in’ him, fer he got nuthin’ but durned tired. So, ez he waited, he grounded his rifle, an’ leaned himself ag’in’ a great big tree ter rest his bones. And presently he jes happened ter turn his head, an’, folks! he seen a sight! Fer thar, right close ter his cheek, he looked into a skellington’s eye-sockets. ”

“ Should his integrity succumb, and the jug tilt too far, the stream of sorghum might inundate his raiment, and the catastrophe would place him beyond the pale of polite society. The seclusion of bed would be the only place for Sol till such time as the elder-bush should bear the fruit of dry clothes. ”

“ But, occasionally, a crony of his olden time would contrast the profits of this tame industry at a disadvantage with the quick and large returns of the “wild cat,” when he would “confess and avoid.”
“That’s true, that’s all true; but a man can’t holp it no ways in the world whenst he hev got a wife that is so out-an’-out meddlesome that she won’t let him run ag’in’ the law, nohow he kin fix it.” ”

“ Them cherty rocks will cut yer feet like a knife.”
Sol had nerves of his own. Her sharp cry had caused him to spring precipitately backward, frightened, but uncomprehending his danger. Being unhurt, he was resentful’ “They ain’t none o’ yer feet, nohow,” he grumbled, making a fresh start at less speed.
“Oh, yes, Sol,” said the old grandfather, enjoying the contretemps and the sentiment of revolt against Meddlesome’s iron rule. “Everything belongs ter Meddlesome one way or another, ‘ca’se she jes makes it hern. So take keer of yer feet for her sake.” ”

“ Kettison. Here is this fellow, Boyston McGurny, been about here two years, and a reward for five hundred dollars out for his arrest.”
“That’s Boy’s fault, Sher’ff, not our’n,” leered the glib old man. He, too, had had a sip of the stalwart cherry-bounce. “Boy’s in no wise sociable.”
“It’s plumb flying in the face of the law,” declared the officer. “If I had a guide, I’d not wait a minute, or if I could recognize the man whenst I viewed him. The constable promised to send a fellow to meet me here,—what’s his name!—yes, Smith, Barton Smith,—who will guide us to where he was last glimpsed. ”

“ It’s away back yander,” observed one of the posse, reluctant and disaffected.
“Oh, he has quit that tree; he is bound for up the gorge now,” said the guide.
“Well, I suppose you know, from what I was told,” said the sheriff, discontentedly; “but this is a long ja’nt. Ride up! Ride up!”
Onward they fared through the perfumed woods. The wild asters were blooming, and sweet and subtile distillations of the autumnal growths were diffused on the air. The deer are but ill at road-making,—such tangled coverts, such clifty ledges, such wild leaps ”

“ Purcell’s vocation was that of a broker, and he was given to the discrimination of chances and relative values. “Therefore he is as definitely caput lupinum as any outlaw of old. Nobody would be held accountable for cracking his ‘wolf’s head’ off, in the effort to arrest him for the sake of the five hundred dollars. But, meantime, how does the fellow contrive to live!”
“Jes by his rifle, I reckon,” replied the rural gossip whom intrusive curiosity occasionally lured to their camp-fire. “Though sence that thar big reward hev been n’ised abroad, I’d think he’d be plumb afraid ter fire a shot. ”

“ There was a clearing sky without, and the wind was laid. The frenzy of the storm was over, although rain was still falling. The little cavalcade got to horse deliberately enough amid the transparent dun shadows and dim yellow flare of light from open door and window. ”

“ That’s what frets Meddy; she can’t abide the idee of huntin’ a human with sech special coursers ez money reward. She ‘lows it mought tempt a’ evil man or a’ ignorant one ter swear a miser’ble wretch’s life away. Let the law strengthen its own hands—that’s what Meddy say. ”

“ Gran’dad Kettison war tellin’ some camp-hunters ‘bout’n it jes this evenin’. Like ez not they’ll kem ter view it.”
His eyes dilated with a sudden accession of terror that seemed always a-smoulder. “Lawd, Lawd, Lawd!” he moaned wretchedly.
Meddlesome was true to her name and tradition. “Ye oughter hev remembered the Lawd ‘fore ye done it,” she said, with a repellent impulse; then she would have given much to recall the reproach. The man was desperate; his safety lay in her silence. A pistol-shot would secure it, and anger would limber the trigger. ”