“Wal, it run ’long awhile, an’ huntin’ season come, an’ then one night Snake Sanders got me full o’ licker an’ says we’ll go down b’low an’ git us some coons—he knowed where we could git a passel of ’em. I’d oughter knowed better’n to go anywheres with him, but I was fool ’nough to go ’long, an’ he gimme more licker, an’ we tromped an’ tromped, an’ I had more licker, an’ so on. An’ then, fust thing I knowed, we was nigh a house an’ barn, an’ our coon-dog warn’t nowheres round, an’ I was gittin’ awful drunk. An’ Snake says, ‘Lay down awhile an’ ye’ll feel better.’ An’ I laid down.
“Then, next I knowed, my gun blew off—bung bung!—an’ men was runnin’ an’ hosses screechin’ an’ the barn was all afire, a-blarin’ out all round so ’twas light as day. An’ Snake was gone, an’ all to once I see ’twas the Bump place that was afire, an’ somethin’ told me to git. So I run as fast as ever I could, never takin’ my gun or nothin’. But bimeby I was way up the road, an’ it was all dark, an’ I got tired an’ set down to rest. An’ then the licker got a-holt o’ me an’ I went off to sleep.
“Wal, that was the end o’ me. They found me a-layin’ into the road an’ they pounded me ’most to death an’ drug me out an’ tried me for arson an’ ’tempted murder an’ I dunno what all. I didn’t have no more chance than a baby chipmunk into a hawk’s nest. I couldn’t prove nothin’, and they wouldn’t b’lieve nothin’, an’ they got proof o’ what I’d swore to do to them Bumps, an’—they gimme the limit.
“An’ these three years I been doin’ time an’ gittin’ knocked round an’—oh Gawd! An’ Snake, he’s been a-settin’ up here laffin’ at me an’ the Bumps—he was ag’in ’em, I dunno what for, an’ he used me to git all the blame for burnin’ up their place an’ their hosses an’ pigs an’ shootin’ Charlie Bump—Charlie he got buckshot into him an’ the hull place was burnt—an’ I got the limit—but I’ll git him—I’ll git him——”
He was growing incoherent, his eyes glazing with concentrated hate and fury. Douglas thumped him repeatedly on the shoulder and broke in on his talk.
“All right, Steve, all right! Buck up, now! Your turn’s coming—take a grip on yourself! Keep your head until those bulls leave, and lie low.”
The youth gritted his teeth and swallowed hard.
“I’m a-layin’ low,” he asserted hoarsely. “I’m a-keepin’ my head an’ my grip. I ain’t a-goin’ back to no pen. But when oncet I git to a gun——”
He swallowed again and pawed with one lean hand at his throat. Douglas nodded, his own face sombre. Uncle Eb cleared his throat like a gunshot.
“I don’t hold with shootin’ yer enemies,” he erupted. “I never yit shot at a man, an’ I don’t b’lieve into it. Still an’ all, I dunno as I blame ye much. But ye got to lay lower than ever now, an’ lay somewheres else. Snake sent them fellers here—they as good as said so—an’ they’ll be back, I bet. Come dark, I’ll take ye over into the rocks. I got some old clo’es an’ a hoss-blankit ye can wrop up into, an’ I’ll send ye food right ’long reg’lar if Marry’ll take it—she’s spryer than I be.”