'Look-a-hyar, Pete Cayce, I'll fling ye bodaciously over that thar bluff!' exclaimed Amos James, darkly frowning.
A rat that had boldly run across the floor a number of times, its whiskers powdered white, its tail white also, and gaily frisking behind it, had ventured so close to the miller's motionless foot, that when he stepped hastily forward it sprang into the air with a wonderfully human expression of fright; then, in a sprawling fashion, it swiftly sped away to some dark corner, where it might meditate on the escaped danger and take heed of foolhardiness.
'W-w-what would I be a-doin' of, Amos Jeemes, whilst ye war a-flingin' m-me over the b-b-bluff?' demanded Pete pertinently.
'What ails ye, ter git tuk so suddint in yer temper, Amos?' asked another of the baffled listeners, who desired to promote peace and further the account of Parson Kelsey's examination before the magistrate. 'Amos jes' axed ye, Pete, why pa'son warn't admitted ter bail.'
'H-h-he never none now,' said Pete. 'He axed w-w-why Pa'son Kelsey didn't g-gin bail. He did gin it, but 't-twarn't accepted.'
'What fur?' demanded Amos, relapsing into interest in the subject, and leaning back against the hopper.
'Waal,' said Pete, preferring, on the whole, the distinction of relating the proceedings before the magistrate to the more familiar diversion of bickering, 'pa'son he 'lowed he'd gin his gran'dad an' his uncle ter go on his bond; an' the Squair, arter he hed stuck his nose into his book a couple o' times, an' didn't see nuthin' abolishin' gran'dads an' uncles, he tuk it out an' refraished it with a pinch o' snuff, an' 'lowed he'd take gran'dad an' uncle on the bond. An' then up jumped Gid Fletcher, the blacksmith over yander ter the Settlemint—him it war ez swore out the warrant—and demanded the Squair would hear his testimony agin it. That thar 'Cajah Green, he sick-ed him on, all the time. I seen Gid Fletcher storp suddint wunst, an' wall his eye 'round onsartin' at 'Cajah Green, ez ef ter make sure he war a-sayin' all right. An' 'Cajah Green, he batted his eye, ez much ez ter say, "Go it, old hoss!" Sure ez ye air born them two fixed it up aforehand.'
'I do de-spise that thar critter, 'Cajah Green!' exclaimed one of the men, who was sitting on a sack of corn in the middle of the floor. 'He fairly makes the trigger o' my rifle itch! I hope he won't kem out ahead at the August election. The Big Smoky'll hev ter git him beat somehows; we can't hev him aggervatin' 'roun' hyar another two year.'
The fore-legs of Pete Cayce's tilted chair came down with a thump. He leaned forward, and with a marked gesture offered his big horny paw to the man who sat on the bag of corn; they solemnly shook hands as on a compact.
Amos James still leaned against the empty hopper, listening with a face of angry gloom as Pete recommenced: