“Well, I’ll take him then,” said the old man, making a move.
“Stand back!” shouted the sheriff, leveling his gun on the instant. “I’ll blow ye into kingdom come, sure as hell!”
A noticeable movement on the part of the crowd ceased. The sheriff lowered his weapon as if he thought the danger were once more over.
“You-all ought to be ashamed of yerselves,” he went on, his voice sinking to a gentle neighborly reproof, “tryin’ to upset the law this way.”
“The nigger didn’t upset no law, did he?” asked one derisively.
“Well, the law’s goin’ to take care of the nigger now,” Mathews made answer.
“Give us that scoundrel, Mathews; you’d better do it,” said the old man. “It’ll save a heap o’ trouble.”
“I’ll not argue with ye, Morgan. I said ye couldn’t have him, an’ ye can’t. If ye want bloodshed, all right. But don’t blame me. I’ll kill the first man that tries to make a move this way.”
He shifted his gun handily and waited. The crowd stood outside his little fence murmuring.
Presently the old man retired and spoke to several others. There was more murmuring, and then he came back to the dead line.