“Remember you ain’t to hurt him!” screamed the woman; “nor her, neither—God forgive me. But bring Johnny—bring Johnny, and God be with you.”
The woman stood with clasped hands watching Jude until he reached the opposite bank, shook himself, and disappeared, and then she leaned against a tree and trembled and cried until she was startled by hearing some one say:
“Beg pardon, madame, but have you seen any one pass?”
The woman raised her head, and saw a respectable, severe looking man, in clothing rather neater than was common along Spanish Creek.
“Only one,” she replied, “and he’s the best man livin’. He’s gone to get Johnny—he won’t be gone long.”
“Your husband, ma’am?”
“Oh, no, sir; I never saw him before.”
“One eye gone; broken nose; scar on right cheek; powder-marks on left——”
“Yes, sir, that’s the man,” said the wondering woman.
“Perhaps you may not have seen this?” said the man handing her one of the posters describing Jude.