"'Hain't Tom Grayson h-yer?' says Jake.
"'No,' says Byfiel'. 'Somebody's been a-greenin' on you, Jake; Tom hain't never been h-yer,' says he.
"'Aw, you're a lunatic, Sam,' says Jake.
"'Ditto, brother,' says Byfiel'.
"The shurruff's folks had run out, un 'bout this time they'd began to raise the neighbors, un somebody run to the Prisbaterian church un commenced to pull away on the new church bell, 't a man Down East sent 'em. We thought we'd better be a-lightin' out mighty soon. But time we wuz in our saddles crack went a gun fum behin' the court-house. I s'pose 't wuz shot into the air to skeer us; but Jake, like a fool, out weth his pistol un shot back. The Perrysburg people wuz like a bee-gum that's been upsot. The people was now a-runnin', some one way un some t'other, un more guns wuz fired off fum summers,—we never stopped to eenquire fum whar, tell we'd got safe acrost the county line. One uv them guns must 'a' been a rifle, un it must 'a' been shot in bloody yarnest, fer I heerd the bullet whiz."
"You never stopped to say good-bye!" said Bob.
"Not me! Ole Gray wuz the very fust hoss that pulled hisself acrost the corporation line. I didn' seem to feel no interest in stayin', noways."
"What's Jake goin' to do nex' thing?" asked Bob, not yet recovered from his merriment.
"Wal, about half the fellers rode straight on home un wouldn't talk to Jake at all, 'cept maybe to cuss 'im now un then fer a fool, on'y fit to hole a snipe-bag fer Bob McCord. They swore they wuz done go'n' under sech as him. But Jake ain't the kind to gin it up; he says 'f 'e kin get a dozen he's boun' to go a Sunday night when they'll be lots of fellers about the camp-meetin', un some uh them'll go too, maybe."
"We'll have to see about that," said Bob, getting up. "But you stick to Jake, closte ez a cuckle-burr."