“Hain’t she seen sarvice sence you’ve had ’er, ur plaguey nigh it?” continued Layn.
“Seen sa—ar—vice sence—I’ve—hed ’er?”
“Yes, by George, yes.”
“You’re talkin’ to me in riddles.”
“Why, Joshua,” broke in Raner, “hain’t there been orchards girdled, a barn burnt, an’ thirty horses made way with by some on you Punksholers not a great while back?”
“Exac’ly,” said Layn. “That ere hints the matter, Josh. Wuz that ere gun one on ’em that wuz drawn on [Judge Smith], an’ would a’ done the mischief on ’im, hedn’t his wife happened to keep atween him an’ the winder whilst he wuz ondressin’ a-goin’ to bed?”
“Thar wuzn’t but three on ’em at thet ere bus’ness, an’ is it your idee to hint thet I wuz one on em? Ef it be, thet’s hittin’ devlish nigh—devlish nigh; an’ I’m blasted ef I don’t tek thet up,” replied Alibee, spitting in his hands and stepping up to Layn.
“Nay, Joshua, nay; couldn’t that flint-lock a been there without you, or at any rate, afore you owned it?” spoke Raner, to pacify Alibee.
Layn discerned that he had gone too far in his attempt at accusation, and so in a bantering way, continued, “You said yer musket had seen sarvice. You wan’t in the Rev’lution’ry War, nur even in a skirmish. The wicked thing some o’ you Punksholers meant to do on Judge Smith is known to the hull Town, an’ you wuz a braggin’ ’bout the sarvice yer gun hed seen. What harm wuz thar, by George, in askin’ you, straight out an’ out, ef that wuz the sarvice she hed seen?”
“A devlish lot o’ harm, when a man wa’n’t thar, nur nowheres near thar, nur never hed an idee o’ bein’ thar,” replied Josh.