As Ruth and her mother came out, the darkened green was full of groups of men all eagerly discussing the occurrence and its probable effect on the case. Major Welch’s name was on every lip.
“Danged if I believe he’s a Yankee, anyway!” said a voice in the darkness as Ruth and Mrs. Welch passed by—a theory which gained this much credit: that several admitted that, “He certainly was more like our people than like Yankees.” One, after reflection, said:
“Well, maybe there’s some of ’em better than them we know about.”
The ladies passed on in the darkness.
Hiram Still was taken over to the tavern, and Dr. Cary worked over him for hours; and later in the night the report was current that it was only a fit he had had, and that he was recovering.
Meantime Leech and Still’s other counsel held a consultation, and after that Leech was closeted with the Judge in his room for an hour; and when he left, having learned that Major Welch had gone home, he mounted his horse and rode away in the darkness in the direction of Red Rock.
The next morning the Judge adjourned his court for the term. The illness of Still, the chief party in the cause, was the ground assigned.
It soon became known that Still was not going to give up the suit. It was authoritatively announced by Leech. What Major Welch chose to do had nothing to do with Still.
“If Major Welch was fool enough,” Leech said, “to turn tail at a nigger’s lies, which he had been bribed to tell, and fling away a good plantation, it was none of their business. But they were going to fight and win their case.”