The Last Stetson | Page 4

began to press over the mountains and down on Hazlan, as

it had pressed in on Breathitt, the seat of another feud, in another
county. In Breathitt the feud was long past, and with good reason old
Gabe thought that it was done in Hazlan.
But that autumn a panic started over from England. It stopped the
railroad far down the Cumberland; it sent the "furriners" home, and
drove civilization back. Marcums and Braytons came in from hiding,
and drifted one by one to the old fighting-ground. In time they took up
the old quarrel, and with Steve Marcum and Steve Brayton as leaders,
the old Stetson-Lewallen feud went on, though but one soul was left in
the mountains of either name. That was Isom, a pale little fellow whom
Rome had left in old Gabe's care; and he, though a Stetson and a
half-brother to Rome, was not counted, because he was only a boy and
a foundling, and because his ways were queer.
There was no open rupture, no organized division-that might happen no
more. The mischief was individual now, and ambushing was more
common. Certain men were looking for each other, and it was a
question of "draw-in' quick 'n' shootin' quick" when the two met by
accident, or of getting the advantage "from the bresh."
In time Steve Marcum had come face to face with old Steve Brayton in
Hazlan, and the two Steves, as they were known, drew promptly.
Marcum was in the dust when the smoke cleared away; and now, after
three months in bed, he was just out again. He had come down to the
mill to see Isom. This was the miller's first chance for remonstrance,
and, as usual, he began to lay it down that every man who had taken a
human life must sooner or later pay for it with his own. It was an old
story to Isom, and, with a shake of impatience, he turned out the door
of the mill, and left old Gabe droning on under his dusty hat to Steve,
who, being heavy with "moonshine," dropped asleep.
Outside the sun was warm, the flood was calling from the dam, and the
boy's petulance was gone at once. For a moment he stood on the rude
platform watching the tide; then he let one bare foot into the water, and,
with a shiver of delight, dropped from the boards. In a moment his
clothes were on the ground behind a laurel thicket, and his slim white
body was flashing like a faun through the reeds and bushes up stream.

A hundred yards away the creek made a great loop about a wet thicket
of pine and rhododendron, and he turned across the bushy neck.
Creeping through the gnarled bodies of rhododendron, he dropped
suddenly behind the pine, and lay flat in the black earth. Ten yards
through the dusk before him was the half-bent figure of a man letting
an old army haversack slip from one shoulder; and Isom watched him
hide it with a rifle under a bush, and go noiselessly on towards the road.
It was Crump, Eli Crump, who had been a spy for the Lewallens in the
old feud and who was spying now for old Steve Brayton. It was the
second time Isom had seen him lurking about, and the boy's impulse
was to hurry back to the mill. But it was still peace, and without his gun
Crump was not dangerous; so Isom rose and ran on, and, splashing into
the angry little stream, shot away like a roll of birch bark through the
tawny crest of a big wave. He had done the feat a hundred times; he
knew every rock and eddy in flood-time, and he floated through them
and slipped like an eel into the mill-pond. Old Gabe was waiting for
him.
"Whut ye mean, boy," he said, sharply, reskin' the fever an' ager this
way? No wonder folks thinks ye air half crazy. Git inter them clothes
now 'n' come in hyeh. You'll ketch yer death o' cold swimmin' this way
atter a fresh."
The boy was shivering when he took his seat at the funnel, but he did
not mind that; some day he meant to swim over that dam. Steve still lay
motionless in the corner near him, and Isom lifted the slouched hat and
began tickling his lips with a straw. Steve was beyond the point of
tickling, and Isom dropped the hat back and turned to tell the miller
what he had seen in the thicket. The dim interior darkened just then,
and Crump stood in the door. Old Gabe stared hard at him without a
word of welcome, but Crump shuffled to a chair unasked, and sat like a
toad astride it, with