Long before he reached Clifty his mind was made up not to flee another mile. He knocked at the door of Squire Underwood. But Squire Underwood was also a doctor, and had been called away. He knocked at the door of Squire Doolittle. But Squire Doolittle had gone to Lewisburg. He was about to give up all hope of being able to surrender himself to the law when he met Squire Hawkins, who had come over to Clifty to avoid responsibility for the ill-deeds of his neighbors which he was powerless to prevent.
"Is that you, Mr. Hartsook?"
"Yes, and I want you to arrest me and try me here in Clifty."
FOOTNOTES:
[26] I have already mentioned the absence of pail and pare from the ancient Hoosier folk-speech. Brook is likewise absent. The illiterate Indiana countryman before the Civil War, let us say, had no pails, pared no apples, husked no corn, crossed no brooks. The same is true, I believe, of the South generally. As the first settlers on the Southern coast entered the land by the rivers, each smaller stream was regarded as a branch of the larger one. A small stream was therefore called a branch. The word brook was probably lost in the first generation. But a small stream is often called a run in the Middle and Southern belt. Halliwell gives rundel as used with the same signification in England, and he gives ryn in the same sense from an old manuscript.
[27] Juberous is in none of the vocabularies that I have seen. I once treated this word in print as an undoubted corruption of dubious, and when used subjectively it apparently feels the influence of dubious, as where one says: "I feel mighty juberous about it." But it is much oftener applied as in the text to the object of fear, as "The bridge looks kind o' juberous." Halliwell gives the verb juberd and defines it as "to jeopard or endanger." It is clearly a dialect form of jeopard, and I make no doubt that juberous is a dialect variation of jeopardous, occasionally used as a form of dubious.
CHAPTER XXIX.
THE TRIAL.
The "prosecuting attorney" (for so the State's attorney is called in Indiana) had been sent for the night before. Ralph refused all legal help. It was not wise to reject counsel, but all his blood was up, and he declared that he would not be cleared by legal quibbles. If his innocence were not made evident to everybody, he would rather not be acquitted on a preliminary examination. He would go over to the circuit court and have the matter sifted to the bottom. But he would have been pleased had his uncle offered his counsel, though he would have declined it. He would have felt better to have had a letter from home somewhat different from the one he received from his Aunt Matilda by the hand of the prosecuting attorney. It was not very encouraging or very sympathetic, though it was very characteristic.