"I'm looking for a certain party myself," he said. "Reckon we all are—would you like to come in?"
"With you—yes," assented Hall, "but never with the Scarboroughs. I have taken a great dislike to Isham and his kind—and the ills which come to a man who stays neutral are nothing to what happens to a partisan. The partisan must fight whether he is right or wrong or be branded a traitor by his clan; and if for one moment he shows kindness to an enemy he is hounded by both sides alike. That is the unforgivable sin—any sign of humanity, any suggestion that the butchery should cease—and as the fighting goes on the worst element takes the lead while men of finer feeling drop out. And to drop out is to be branded a coward. But no man is truly brave until, for a principle, he is willing to be called a coward. And here—since you have shown me the rewards of being neutral, there is mine for being a partisan!"
He stripped back his shirt—from the same left side that Meshackatee had bared to show his brand—and there, between two ribs, was a smooth round hole, where a bullet had passed through his body. It was a mere pit of red against the white skin, and just above the scar his heart beat on rhythmically as if nothing could still its pulse. Meshackatee stared, then leaned over closer and glanced up with a scared look in his eyes.
"How'd you happen to live?" he asked at last, and the stranger pointed solemnly to the sky.
"A miracle!" he said, "if miracles still happen to men as unworthy as I am. I was left for dead—and so I still remain to those who sought my life—but I crawled to a cave and recovered from my wound without medicine or care of any kind. In the mountains my name is added to the list of those who have died in the feud; but God has spared me—or so I think—to bring peace once more to Tug Fork."
"And where's that?" demanded Meshackatee, still staring at him curiously; and the stranger seemed to wake from a trance.
"I shouldn't have said that!" he burst out regretfully, "I shouldn't have mentioned Tug Fork. But as you are a gentleman——" He paused expectantly and Meshackatee held out his hand.
"Enough said!" he exclaimed, and they clasped hands in silence. For between gentlemen what need is there for words?