“‘What are you goin’ to say to the boys you had the fight with?’
“‘Fight!’ says Hank. ‘It wasn’t no fight. The whole crowd lit into me and mauled me most to death, and I hadn’t said a word.’
“‘I understand you knocked ’em all down with a cheer, if that’s any satisfaction to you,’ says Tildy.
“‘All right, then,’ says Hank, ‘I’m willin’ to call it square, if they are.’
“‘Not goin’ to say a word to nobody about nothin’?’ she asked.
“‘Not a word,’ says he.
“‘Not goin’ to drink any more?’
“‘Not a drop, Tildy. Now, come on and cut this devilish thing off. I feel like I’ll die if it stays on me another minute.’ Tildy couldn’t think of nothin’ more he could promise, so finally she cut the bastin’ threads and let him loose. Well, sir, he didn’t say a word out of the way to them boys that beat ’em up, and he wouldn’t even take a few drinks to taper off, and it’s my opinion,” said old Eli, solemnly, “that he wouldn’t drink a drop of liquor, right now, if he was bit by a snake.”
They were driving into Jonesboro when the old man finished his story, and the big town clock struck four.
“Great guns!” cried Hodges in amazement, “it’s four o’clock!”