XXIV.
THE MUSCADINE STORY.
It was a bland September morning, in a year that need not be specified, that the Captain, standing in view of the west door of the Court-House at Dadeville, perceived the sheriff emerging therefrom, a bundle of papers in hand, and looking as if he desired to execute some sort of a capias.
The Captain instantly bethought him, that there was an indictment pending against himself for gaming, and began to collect his energies for an emergency. The sheriff hailed him at the same moment, and requested him to “hold on.”
“Stop, Ellis—right thar in your tracks, as the bullet said to the buck,” Suggs responded; “them dockyments look venermous!”
“No use,” said the officer—“sooner or later you must be taken; dog-face Billy Towns is here, and he’ll go your security.”
“Keep off, I tell you, Ellis; I ain’t safe to-day—the old woman’s coffee was cold this mornin’, and it fretted me. If you’ve got anything agin me, keep it ’till Court—I’ll be thar—‘waive all formalities,’ you know!”
“I will waive nothing,” replied the sheriff, advancing: “I’ll put you whar I can find you when wanted.”
Suggs drew an old revolving pistol, whereupon the sheriff paused.
“The blood,” shouted the Captain, “of the High Sheriff of Tallapoosy County be upon his own head. If he crowds on to me, I give fair warnin’ I’ll discharge this revolten’ pistol seven several and distinct times, as nigh into the curl of his forehead, as the natur’ of the case will admit.”
For a moment the sheriff was intimidated; but recollecting that Captain Suggs had a religious dread of carrying loaded fire-arms about his person, although he often sported them uncharged for effect, he briskly resumed his stride, and the Captain, hurling the “revolter” at his head, at once fell into a “killing pace” towards the rack where stood his pony, “Button.”