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Show if,'. - f rr ?.?' rMg HajwlmrcLieJie "pri. Musiraiions by "tffty'C opyrigh. by Doobladoy. Po q & Co. CHAPTER XII Continued. 11 .Toll n MorHnnrt turned up the light I little, and cracked a worn but timely time-ly joke ; then he looked toward one f the men whom he had fought throughout many years, and muttered Into his thick brown beard : "Saul, friend, will ye do us the fa-ror fa-ror o' axin' the blessin', ef ye please?" "Shore. John, o' course." Saul I.lttleford, the very illiterate, laced his big lingers together across his plate, bent his head, and told the food Almighty that they were all very much obliged to Him for the fine supper they had before them, for Ad-ilie Ad-ilie Morelnnd who had cooked it, for peace, and for Bill DaJe. . . . It was almost midnight when the visitors left. They had been sitting outside, on the honeysuckle-scented front porch and in the cabin yard. At last Bill Dale and John Moreland were left together on the porch. "There's a thing that has puzzled roe since the moment I got here this evening." said Dale. "Why is it that nobody -seems to - be grieving over Caleb's being in jail?" . . The big hillman's answer came al most sharply : "No Moreland ever grieved over a sacrifyce, Bill." Dale sat up straight. "A sacrifice ! What do you mean?" This time the big hillman's answer came slowly. "I mean 'at Cale he's n-takin' all o' the load off o' yore shoulders 'at he can. Cale he's a-takin' yore place in jail ontel the trial comes off, which'll be at the October term t' co'te. He trusts you to come back and set him free on the day o' the trial. O' course you'll do it; we hain't never doubted that fo' one little minute, min-ute, Bill. But it wasn't all done fo' yore sake. You're the hope o' the Morelands, and you can do a heap more here 'an Caleb can." He leaned toward Bill Dale and went on in a confidential tone: "And I can tell ye this here, ef you're found guilty o' killin' Adam Ball, and sentenced fo' even one year, the Morelands. and the Littlefords is a-goin' to take ye from the officers and turn ye Joose with a good, long start on the law." "Wouldn't that be rather " Dale broke off because he had seen the tall figure of a man appear in the open gateway. It was By Heck, and he spoke. "Hello, John Moreland!" "Hello yeself!" growled Moreland, who was not at all pleased at the interruption. in-terruption. Heck advanced., carrying his rifle by its muzzle. He halted with one foot on the stone step. "I've got news fo' ye, Bill," he said, recognizing Dale even in the darkness. dark-ness. "I've been a-eavesdrappin' up at old Ball's house, and I had to choke about ten dawgs to do it. Bill, old boy, them Balls has done swore by everything on earth and in Heaven and in Torment 'at they'll kill you ef the law don't. Igod, ye'd better watch out, Bill." John Moreland rose from his chair'. "Much obleoged to ye. By. And goodnight good-night to ye. I.e's go into the house, Bill. I didn't think them d d polecats pole-cats had that much narve and I don't hardly believe it y it. It might ha' been while licker a-talkin. Their kind o' white licker ain't hawnest. like By Heck's is, though, his'n is bad enough. Their kind'U make a man resurrect his dead Inclines out o' the graveyard nnd shoot 'cm up all over again. It ain't a-goin' to do a great deal o' harm, Bill, ef ye don't light no lamp when ye go to bed. A man cain't never tell jest what's a-goin' to happen." "And the Ball-Torrey outfit " Dale began, when the Moreland chief cut in : "Ef the Ball-Torrey outfit pesters you, they're every one purty durned apt to die with what is knowed gen'al-ly gen'al-ly In this section as the rifle-bullet disease." dis-ease." CHAPTER XIII Sentenced to Hang. Sheriff Tom I'lowers and four able deputies rode out ot Cartersville very early on the following morning. They went to the HI; Tine mountain country, nnd. by a scheme that entailed some shrewdness on the part of the chief officer, arrested two Balis and two Torreys on suspicion and took them away without trouble. The two Balls and the two Torreys were lodged in the Cartersville Jail and offered their liberty and exoneration exonera-tion from all blame In the dynamiting affair if they would give the names of the other guilty parties and appear against them. The mountaineers declared de-clared stnully that they knew nothing whatever of the matter, and when pressure was applied they grew sullen and refused to talk at all. It was plain to Flowers that they did know something about it. and he Dually ordwd that they be kept In a ' R & dlt f bread a4 wittr until their tongues loosened. '- At which the Balls and Torreys swore loudly and swore that they would rot in jail first unless their kinsmen came and shot up the town and liberated them by force ! "To me that Is proof that you four are guilty," grimly smiled the sheriff. "And if your folks want to try storming storm-ing the jail, let them. A full company com-pany of militia can be rushed here within an hour, at any time, and we'll give your folks all the fun they want." It may be recorded that the four hillmen never confessed. Bill Dale, closely shadowed by one lanky Samuel Heck with his inevitable, ever-ready rifle, went among the workers work-ers with a cheer that he did not feel. For Caleb Moreland was In jail, and Caleb Moreland was innocent. But there was one sincere delight for Dale: Hayes was driving the little railroad ahead with all his might and all the, might of his men. Hayes was in high favor with those under him ; they worked even harder when he was absent than they worked when he was standing over them. The days ran on, and there was no sign of a hostile demonstration from the Balls and Torreys. Judging from appearances, they were wholly satisfied satis-fied with Caleb Moreland's being in jail. Henderson Goff had disappeared. Dale hoped that he was rid of the man for all time, but he wasn't. Goff was not so confident as was Major Bradley that he could establish his innocence in tlie matter of the dynamiting of the two buildings and the trestle. He wished very much to steer clear of arrest, for reasons of his own, and he was biding his time in a little town in western North Carolina. When the dynamiting affair had blown over, he would go back and try again, perhaps by an altogether new scheme, to get himself into possession of the More-land More-land coal. Then there came to the neighborhood neighbor-hood a man whom no Moreland, and none of the Littlefords, had ever set eyes upon before. He was a very uncouth un-couth mountain man, with long black hair and. shaggy beard ; his clothing was outlandish and ragged. He had not much to say; there was about him. somehow, an air of mystery-Two mystery-Two days after his arrival, in the afternoon, the stranger met Dale mid- Ym'lW mlrv "What Do Ye Think o' This Here?" He Wanted to Know. way between the Halfway switch and the opening of the coal vein, and stopped him with an unpraised hand. "Do you know good coal when ye see it?" he drawled. "Why?" asked Dale, on his guard. The stranger looked sharply in all directions, as though he wished to make sure that no person was within earshot of them. Evidently satisfied, satis-fied, he drew from a trousers pocket a shining black lump of coal, which he held out for Dale's inspection. "What do ye think o' this here?" he wanted to know. Dale took the lump and examined it closely. It was apparently as good as the Moreland coal, which had sent the expert Hayes into raptures. Dale then looked closely at the stranger. He appeared to be honest ; his gaze was steady, and seemed very Innocent. Inno-cent. "Where did you get this?" Dale asked. The alert eyes narrowed. "Do ye taln h!s here vela vou'ra e Oxln' to mine i l!ie oniy win in l lit whole rnuiitvy V" "Where did you get this';" Dale repeated. re-peated. "Do ye think." drawled the oilier, "'at I'm plumb fool enough to give my find away fo' nnthin'? I been pore all o' my life, mister!" "How am I to know," frowned Dale, "that you've really got a find?" "Ye'd believe yore own two eyes, wouldn't ye?" "Yes." Dale agreed, "I'd believe my own two eyes, of course. What's your name, and where are you from?" "What do I git outen it? I don't own the mountain it's in, but it shore can he bought fo' fifteen cents a acre. And nobody knows about it but jest me. It lays closer to the railroad 'an this here Moreland vein, too. What do I git outen it, mister?" The mountaineer seemed more honest hon-est than ever, but Dale was still on his guard. He asked again: "What's your name, and where are yoa from?" This time the answer came readily: "My name it's Walt Turner, and I'm from Turner's Laurel, Madison county, state o' Nawth Ca'liner. But my find it ain't nowhars clost to home. 'Tain't no more'n about two hours o' walkln' from right here, mister. Ef you'd jest up and go along wl' me, I'd show It to ye." Dale considered. There might be a considerable vein of this new coal. Even if he was sent to the state penitentiary peni-tentiary for a term of years, Hayes was entirely capable of carrying on the mining operations. "I'd like to take my mining man, Hayes " "No!" quickly objected Walt Turner. Tur-ner. "I don't want nobody else to know whar it's at but jest you and me. That away, ye see, ef I'm treated crooked I'll know edzactly who done it and I'll shore git you ! But I heerd tell' at you was pow'ful square, mister." mis-ter." "Could I get back here before nightfall?" night-fall?" Turner's eyes lighted. "Shore!" "Then lead the way," ordered Dale. Walt Turner from Turner's Laurel, Madison county, state of North Carolina, Caro-lina, crossed the little creek on stones and went straight to the northeast, missing the Ball settlement by a good mile, and hard on his heels followed the Moreland Coal company's stalwart general manager. The way was exceedingly rough. The two men climbed rugged cliffs, threaded dense thickets of great laurel, mountain laurel, sheep laurel, and huckleberry bushes. They were one hour in a stretch of woods where the hemlocks, poplars and hickories stood so thickly that the interlacing branches overhead shut out completely the light of the sun and half the light of day. Fearing a panther, or a wildcat, Dale kept his revolver loosened and ready in its holster. Walt Turner armed himself him-self with a long staff for snakes, he said ; and then he proved it by killing a rattler that had eight rattles to its tail. But they traveled rapidly, notwithstanding notwith-standing the fact that the going was difficult; and two hours after the beginning be-ginning of the little journey Dale saw-before saw-before him a small and almost circular, level-bottomed basin walled in by low cliffs. A small creek ran through this basin and made two easy ways of entrance. en-trance. In the hollow they saw clumps of laurel and huckleberry bushes, and wild grasses knee-high ; toward the center stood a solitary big and gnarled black walnut tree. They entered at the point at which the creek ran in, and went to the walnut wal-nut tree. There Turner halted and faced Bill Dale with a peculiar glint in his eyes. Dale was looking at the tugged walls of stone, and at the thick green forest that rose above them ; he was marveling, as only a true lover of beauty can marvel, at the wonderful grandeur of it all. Walt Turner, of Turner's Laurel, opened his slit of a mouth and spake, "Here's the kitty!" Dale was brought out of his enjoyment en-joyment most rudely. From behind clumps of laurel and huckleberry bushes, from the tall grasses, from everywhere it seemed from nowhere there sprang dozens of Balls and Torreys with rifles in their hands ! Bill Dale had walked, as gently as a kitten, straight into a trap. His right hand moved toward the butt of his revolver, then dropped at his side. It was foolish, worse than useless, to show fight ; dozens of rifles were staring at him with their frowning, murderous eyes, and their bullets would riddle him if he showed tight. He glanced toward Walt Turner, Tur-ner, kinsman of the Balls. Turner was laughing openly. "Pore little kitty!" "If ever I have the chance." muttered mut-tered Bill Dale, "I'll thrash you for this cute little joke of yours." "You won't never have the chanst," laughed Walt Turner. The Balls and the Torreys began to close In on all sides, and a solid ring of dark and for the most part bearded, wickedly triumphant faces formed Itself around Dale. Adam Ball's father, the acknowledged leader of that band of cutthroats that was now the Ball-Torrey faction, glared at Dale with black eyes that were filled with the fire of intense hatred; then he seized Dale's revolver and thrust it inside the waist-band of his worn jeans trousers. Dale felt the grip of rough hands on his shoulders and arms. He fully realized his great danger; but he strove to keep all signs of fear out of his countenance, and he was not unsuccessful. "I presume this is what you call taking the law Into your own hands, isn't It?" he said with a smile that was forced. "Ediactly!" snapped old Ball. "We Itetched r fo' the law, and w hold w- I'o r!e la-c. and w e lurlinl ye uvi-r to the law; :iinl 'en. by gonnies. liie law uirneil ye li.-se the very next day! And 'en the shuriff he comes out here and arrests f.nir o' us! Ef the law won't try ye 'ami punish ye fo' a-shootin' my son Adam in cold blood, by gunnies, we'll try ye and punish ye fo' a-doin' It. But ye needn't be skeered none at aM. Ye're plumb shore to git jest ire. I'll promise prom-ise ye jestice." "You've evidently overlooked the fact that another man confessed to the killing, and that that was why they liberated me," said Dale. "It's some cussed frame-up." snarled the leader of the gang. "No man on earth don't like no other man well enough fo' that. Asides, you're the one 'at killed my son Adam, by gon-nies, gon-nies, and you're the one 'at must suf- Bill Dale Had Walked, as Gently as a Kitten, Straight Into a Trap. fer fo' it. Bight here onder this here warnut tree we're a-goin' to hold co'te and have yore trial, by jedge and jury, and you'll shore git what's a-comin' Bill Dale cut in with some bitterness bitter-ness : "And you'll be the judge, and your plans have already been laid, and I'm to be hanged by the neck until dead; eh? Well, you'll pay dearly for it, I promise you. We always have to pay for what we get, you know. The Morelands and the Littlefords will be quick to settle the account. You know that." "No," old Ball disagreed hotly, "I don't know that !" He turned to the others. "Set down, boys. It's the same price as standin'. The jury will please set over thar." pointing to his right. "The pris'ner and his gyards will please set right over thar," pointing to his left. "The hon'rable jedge, which same is me, will please set right thar," indicating indi-cating a spot at the base of the gnarled walnut. "The rest," he, finished, "will set anywhar they d n pleases. Set down, men." His orders were obeyed. Dale found Jiimself sitting on the ground between two pairs of mounraineers and facing a line of twelve mountaineers the so-called so-called jury. To his left was the self-appointed self-appointed judge, and to his right-lounged right-lounged a score or more of men whose attention was then being turned toward to-ward a jug of fiery new whisky that had never been near to a revenue stamp or anything else that was honest. hon-est. The jug traveled rapidly from one hairy mouth to another. Old Ball passed the jug to a member mem-ber of the "jury," and announced : "Well, dammit, co'te's open now." "Kitty, kitty, kitty!" taunted Walt Turner. "Pore little kitty!" The mockery began. It was ridiculous, ridicu-lous, and yet it was grim. Adam Ball's father himself furnished most of the evidence ; also he acted as prosecuting attorney. Of course there was no counsel for the defense, and it wouldn't have helped if Dale had had a proverbial Philadelphia lawyer on the grounds ; all the proof nnd eloquence elo-quence and pleading in the world never would have changed, in the slightest degree, de-gree, the sentence that had been cut and dried for Bill Dale. The mock trial was being held solely because the Balls and Torreys felt that by holding hold-ing it they were insulting the majesty of the law and making their vengeance ven-geance sweeter. It became worse than a travesty. . . . Night fell during the wordy and profane harangue of the Ball leader, and it was ordered that a fire be built at once. At once a fire was built, dry brushwood being used, and In Its red and flickering glare the faces of the hillmen looked doulily dark and doubly wicked. Then the judge begged a chew of tobacco and deliberately kept the whole twist, and told the jury to go out and bring back a verdict without with-out losing time. The twelve mountaineers rose unsteadily un-steadily and went to the creek, and there one of them uncovered another jug of fiery new whisky that was alien to a revenue stamp. They drank heavily and returned to the walnut tree court without mentioning the trial. The foreman was a Torrey, and a particularly bad one. His swarthy face, with its high Cherokee cheekbones cheek-bones and Its thin-lipped mouth, was ultra-cruel, ultra-vlclous. He entered the circle of red and flickering firelight slowly, smiling evilly, and the other eleven crowded ud clse behind him. I He cleiuvil hN Ihnmt. spal between two lingers at the tire, and turned to the .tllil-e. "( !eti 1 leinen i the jury," growled the ruling Bull, "have ye rein-lied a verdict '.'" "We have, yore honor." very promptly prompt-ly answered the Torrey who was foreman. fore-man. "Am! we ha' found i lie pris'ner guilty o' the wust kind o' coldblooded, premeditated mudiler in the fust degree, de-gree, yore honor." Old Ball leveled a knotty forefinger toward BiU Dale. "Fo the kiliin' o' my son Adam." he pronounced sentence, "you sh'll hang by the neck ontel dead, from a limb o' this here warnut tree, by gunnies, gun-nies, at sunrise in the mornin'." Although he had well known what the sentence would be. Dale went suddenly sud-denly ashen. Tlten he took a firm grip on himself and began to reason. He could not hope, he decided, that the Morelands and the Littlefords would find lilin before the sun rose. They would miss him, of course, and they would suspect foul play and look for him; but finding him in that wilderness wild-erness It was impossible. It became plain to him that he would have to save himself, if he were saved. He believed his best chance lay in hi9 proving that he was anything but a coward ; the worst mountaineer, he knew, admired a brave man. So he turned slightly to-ntrd the self-appointed judge and asked calmly: calm-ly: "Is there anything really game about you?" "Shore, by gonnies!" quickly. "I'm all game. I'm the feller 'at showed wildcats how to fight. What about it?" "I'll see if you're all game," Dale said, and he smiled when he spoke. "I'll make you this proposition : I'll fight any ten of you, two at a time, with five minutes' rest between fights; if I whip them all I go free, and If I don't whip them all I hang Immediately. Immedi-ately. All parties to be barehanded, no guns and no knives. Are you that game?" Ordinarily, it would have been a thing well nigh impossible to do, much as Dale knew of the pugilistic art, great as was his strength and endurance. endur-ance. But now most of those about Dale were drunk and therefore weakened, weak-ened, and he believed he had a chance if eld Ball accepted. But Judge Ball didn't accept. Doubtless Doubt-less he remembered his son Adam's fight with Dale. "The' cain't be no fightin' in co'te," he said. "You sh'll hang by the neck ontel dead, at sunrise in the mornin'." There was a mumble of approval from the others. Doubtless they, too, remembered that the young man whom they held a captive had once whipped Black Adam Ball, the mountaineer Goliath, with his bare hands. They did not have the one good trait that Dale had hoped they possessed ; while they must have admired him for his courage, they were afraid to fight him without weapons. Dale recalled the fact that the Balls were not originally hillfolk, but lowlanders who had taken to the mountains in order to avoid being forced to fight during the Civil war, a people without a principle. The Cherokee Torreys, of course, were even worse. "Kitty, kitty, kitty!" "Walt Turner called tauntingly again. "He walked into the trap like a pore little kitty !" A plowline of half-inch cotton rope was produced, and the condemned man was securely bound, standing on his feet and facing outward, to the big walnut. Desperate as was his case. Dale couldn't help being a trifle amused at that part of it. It was It Was So Very Melodramatic. so very melodramatic. And yet, it was so grimly real, and his hopes seemed so thin. . . . The Morelands and the Littleford" would eventually learn the truth and make the Balls and Torreys pay a dear price, no doubt, but that that wouldn't give him back his life! (TO BE CONTINUED.) |
