The Last Stetson | Page 5

John Fox, Jr.
his knees close up under his arms, and his wizened
face in his hands.
Meeting Isom's angry glance, he shifted his own uneasily.
Seed the new preacher comm' 'long today?" he asked. Drawing one
dirty finger across his forehead, " Got a long scar 'cross hyeh."

The miller shook his head.
Well, he's a-comm'. I've been waitin' fer him up the road, but I reckon I
got to git 'cross the river purty soon now."
Crump had been living over in Breathitt since the old feud. He had
been "convicted" over there by Sherd Raines, a preacher from the
Jellico Hills, and he had grown pious. Indeed, he had been trailing after
Raines from place to place, and he was following the circuit-rider now
to the scene of his own deviltry-Hazlan.
"Reckon you folks don't know I got the cirkit-rider to come over hyeh,
do ye?" he went on. "Ef he can't preach! Well, I'd tell a man! He kin
jus' draw the heart out'n a holler log! He ' convicted ' me fust night,
over thar in Breathitt. He come up thar, ye know, to stop the feud, he
said; 'n' thar was laughin' from one eendo' Breathitt to t'other; but thar
was the whoppinest crowd thar I ever see when he did come. The
meetin'-house wasn't big enough to hold 'em, so he goes out on the
aidge o' town, n' climbs on to a stump. He hed a woman with him from
the settlemints-she's a-waitin' at Hazlan fer him now-'n' she had a cur'us
little box, 'n' he put her 'n' the box on a big rock, 'n' started in a callin'
'em his bretherin' 'n' sisteren, 'n' folks seed mighty soon thet he meant it,
too. He's always mighty easylike, tell he gits to the blood-penalty."
At the word, Crump's listeners paid sudden heed. Old Gabe's knife
stopped short in the heart of the stick he was whittling; the boy looked
sharply up from the running meal into Crump's face and sat still.
Well, he jes prayed to the Almighty as though he was a-talkin' to him
face to face, 'n' then the woman put her hands on that box, 'n' the
sweetes' sound anybody thar ever heerd come outen it. Then she got to
singin'. Hit wusn't nuthin' anybody thar'd ever heerd; but some o' the
women folks was a snifflin' 'fore she got through. He pitched right into
the feud, as he calls hit, 'n' the sin o' sheddin' human blood, I tell ye; 'n'
'twixt him and the soldiers I reckon thar won't be no more fightin' in
Breathitt. He says, 'n' he always says it mighty loud "-Crump raised his
own voice-" thet the man as kills his feller-critter hev some day got ter
give up his own blood, sartin 'n' shore."

It was old Gabe's pet theory, and he was nodding approval. The boy's
parted lips shook with a spasm of fear, and were as quickly shut tight
with suspicion. Steve raised his head as though he too had heard the
voice, and looked stupidly about him.
I tol' him," Crump went on, " thet things was already a-gettin' kind o'
frolicsome round hyeh agin; thet the Marcums 'n' Braytons was a-takin'
up the ole war, 'n' would be a-plunkin' one 'nother every time they got
together, 'n' a-gittin' the whole country in fear 'n' tremblin' -now thet
Steve Marcum had come back."
Steve began to scowl and a vixenish smile hovered at Isom's lips.
He knows mighty well-fer I tol' him-thet thar hain't a wuss man in all
these mountains than thet very Steve-" The name ended in a gasp, and
the wizened gossip was caught by the throat and tossed, chair and all,
into a corner of the mill.
None o' that, Steve! " called the miller, sternly. "Not hyeh. Don't hurt
him now!
Crump's face stiffened with such terror that Steve broke into a laugh.
Well, ye air a skeery critter! " he said, contemptuously. "I hain't goin' to
hurt him, Uncl' Gabe, but he must be a plumb idgit, a-talkin' 'bout folks
to thar face, 'n' him so puny an' spindlin'! You git!
Crump picked himself up trembling-"Don't ye ever let me see ye on
this side o' the river agin, now "-and shuffled out, giving Marcum one
look of fear and unearthly hate.
Convicted '! " snorted Steve. " I heerd old Steve Brayton had hired him
to waylay me, 'n' I swar I believe hit's so."
"Well, he won't hev to give him more'n a chaw o' tobaccer now," said
Gabe. " He'll come purty near doin' hit hisseif, I reckon, ef he gits the
chance."

Well, he kin git the chance ef I gits my leetle account settled with ole
Steve Brayton fust. 'Pears like that old
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