"Wa'al, yes, he did," the mountaineer admitted "Yo' never knew the one. He was my brother-in-law,—Ab's younges' sister's first husband. He had been married jes' two months, an' was only a hundred yards from this house when Isaac shot him."
"How did you know for sure that it was Howkle who had done the shooting?" asked Hamilton.
"We didn't know for sure, at first. A week or two after, a boy from the Wilshes' place come up with a message sayin' that Isaac Howkle had tol' him to say that he'd get the ol' man nex' time."
"I shouldn't have thought a boy would have had the nerve to bring such a message," said Hamilton thoughtfully. "Wouldn't bringing word like that look like taking sides, and wouldn't it bring his own family into the trouble!"
The old man shook his head in instant denial.
"Po' white trash from the gullies," he said, "no, they don't count one way or the other."
"What happened after you got that message?" asked the boy.
"Nothin' much, for a while, though I was snoopin' aroun' the mount'ns consid'rable. I met the brothers sev'ral times, an' I know they could have had me. But I had nothin' against them, nor they me, an' so it was jes' left to Isaac an' me. Once I found him over near our pasture, but he saw me an' got into cover. At last I found him in the open near our house again, an' in easy range."
"Did you fire right away?" asked Hamilton excitedly.
"I didn't shoot. I got a lead on him, sure, but I jes' couldn't shoot without warnin' him. It seemed kind o' mean to shoot him unawares, an' as I didn't want to take an unfair advantage, I shouted to him. It was pretty far off to be heard, but I could see that he recognized me. I was only waitin' long enough to let him get his gun to his shoulder when some one fired jes' behin' me. Howkle's bullet went through my arm, but he dropped in his tracks. He thought I had shot him but my gun was never fired off."