“Who were these men?”
“Some on ’em belonged in Massissippi, and some on ’em in Tennessy. They come to my house of a Tuesday night, last Feb’uary. They rode up to the house, and surrounded it, a dozen or fifteen of ’em. ‘Old Lee!’ they shouted, ‘we want ye!’ It had been cloudy ’arly in the evening, but it had fa’red up, and as I looked out thro’ the chinks in the logs, I could see ’em moving around.
“’Come out, Old Lee! we’ve business with ye!’
“’You’ve no honest business this hour o’ the night,’ I says.
“’Come out, or we’ll fire your house.’
“’Stand back, then,’ I says, ‘while I open the doo’.’
“I opened it a crack, but instead of going out, I just put out the muzzle of my gun, and let have at the fust man.
“’Boys! I’m shot!’ he says. I’d sent a slug plumb thro’ his body. Whilst the others was getting him away, I loaded up again. In a little while they come back, mad as devils. I didn’t wait for ’em to order me out, but fired as they come up to the doo’. I hit one of ’em in the thigh. After that they went off, and I didn’t hear any more of ’em that night.”
“What became of the wounded men?”
“The one I shot thro’ the body got well. The other died.”