"Hush! Dey air singin' ag'in, an' how her sweet voice leads all de rest:
'Other—refuge—have—I—none;
Hangs—my—helpless—soul—on—thee.'
"Dat—is—my—prayer—my—only—hope. Long—Tom will—go—home—home—to—God—on—dat—prayer."
He straightened his tall form on the grassy slope under the kindly shadow of the mighty oak. A look of peace and pure content came into his face, as though he were glad to have his discharge; he gave one look through the leafy top of the tree, as if beholding some form in the upper air, then slowly closed his eyes. A shiver ran through his frame, a gargle in his throat, a gasp from his lips, and all was over.
In low reverent tones John Larkin said: "Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord."
Again the captain of the moonshiners, Sam Wiles, was taken to the county jail. This time he did not escape. In process of time he and the other prisoners were tried for the illicit distilling of whisky, were found guilty, and sentenced to the penitentiary at Frankfort for a term of years. The charge of murder was not pressed against them. So they pass from this history.
"I Thee Wed."