A Knight of the Cumberland | Page 2

him and simply stared. At last he
saw me:
``Oh,'' he said, ``how do you do?'' and he turned to his prisoner, but the
panting sergeant and another policeman-- also a volunteer--were
already lifting him to his feet. I introduced the boy and the Blight then,
and for the first time in my life I saw the Blight--shaken. Round- eyed,
she merely gazed at him.
``That was pretty well done,'' I said.
``Oh, he was drunk and I knew he would be slow.'' Now something
curious happened. The dazed prisoner was on his feet, and his captors
were starting with him to the calaboose when he seemed suddenly to
come to his senses.

``Jes wait a minute, will ye?'' he said quietly, and his captors, thinking
perhaps that he wanted to say something to me, stopped. The mountain
youth turned a strangely sobered face and fixed his blue eyes on the
engineer as though he were searing every feature of that imperturbable
young man in his brain forever. It was not a bad face, but the avenging
hatred in it was fearful. Then he, too, saw the Blight, his face calmed
magically and he, too, stared at her, and turned away with an oath
checked at his lips. We went on--the Blight thrilled, for she had heard
much of our volunteer force at the Gap and had seen something already.
Presently I looked back. Prisoner and captors were climbing the little
hill toward the calaboose and the mountain boy just then turned his
head and I could swear that his eyes sought not the engineer, whom we
left at the corner, but, like the engineer, he was looking at the Blight.
Whereat I did not wonder--particularly as to the engineer. He had been
in the mountains for a long time and I knew what this vision from home
meant to him. He turned up at the house quite early that night.
``I'm not on duty until eleven,'' he said hesitantly, `` and I thought
I'd----''
``Come right in.''
I asked him a few questions about business and then I left him and the
Blight alone. When I came back she had a Gatling gun of eager
questions ranged on him and--happy withal--he was squirming no little.
I followed him to the gate.
``Are you really going over into those God-forsaken mountains?'' he
asked.
``I thought I would.''
``And you are going to take HER?''
``And my sister.''
``Oh, I beg your pardon.'' He strode away.

``Coming up by the mines?'' he called back.
``Perhaps will you show us around?''
``I guess I will,'' he said emphatically, and he went on to risk his neck
on a ten- mile ride along a mountain road in the dark.
``I LIKE a man,'' said the Blight. ``I like a MAN.''
Of course the Blight must see everything, so she insisted on going to
the police court next morning for the trial of the mountain boy. The boy
was in the witness chair when we got there, and the Hon. Samuel Budd
was his counsel. He had volunteered to defend the prisoner, I was soon
told, and then I understood. The November election was not far off and
the Hon. Samuel Budd was candidate for legislature. More even, the
boy's father was a warm supporter of Mr. Budd and the boy himself
might perhaps render good service in the cause when the time came--
as indeed he did. On one of the front chairs sat the young engineer and
it was a question whether he or the prisoner saw the Blight's black
plumes first. The eyes of both flashed toward her simultaneously, the
engineer colored perceptibly and the mountain boy stopped short in
speech and his pallid face flushed with unmistakable shame. Then he
went on: ``He had liquered up,'' he said, ``and had got tight afore he
knowed it and he didn't mean no harm and had never been arrested
afore in his whole life.''
``Have you ever been drunk before?'' asked the prosecuting attorney
severely. The lad looked surprised.
``Co'se I have, but I ain't goin' to agin --leastwise not in this here town.''
There was a general laugh at this and the aged mayor rapped loudly.
``That will do,'' said the attorney.
The lad stepped down, hitched his chair slightly so that his back was to
the Blight, sank down in it until his head rested on the back of the chair
and crossed his legs. The Hon. Samuel Budd arose and the Blight
looked at him with wonder. His long yellow hair was parted in the

middle and brushed with plaster-like precision behind two enormous
ears, he wore spectacles, gold-rimmed and with great staring lenses,
and his face was smooth and ageless. He caressed his chin ruminatingly
and rolled his lips until they