“I killa heem,” Julio said. He struggled. Two men held him. The little girl howled steadily, holding the bread. “You steala my seester,” Julio said. “Let go, meesters.”
“Steal his sister?” I said. “Why, I’ve been—”
“Shet up,” Anse said. “You can tell that to Squire.”
“Steal his sister?” I said. Julio broke from the men and sprang at me again, but the marshall met him and they struggled until the other two pinioned his arms again. Anse released him, panting.
“You durn furriner,” he said, “I’ve a good mind to take you up too, for assault and battery.” He turned to me again. “Will you come peaceable, or do I handcuff you?”
“I’ll come peaceable,” I said. “Anything, just so I can find someone—do something with—Stole his sister,” I said. “Stole his—”
“I’ve warned you,” Anse said, “He aims to charge you with meditated criminal assault. Here, you, make that gal shut up that noise.”
“Oh,” I said. Then I began to laugh. Two more boys with plastered heads and round eyes came out of the bushes, buttoning shirts that had already dampened onto their shoulders and arms, and I tried to stop the laughter, but I couldnt.
“Watch him, Anse, he’s crazy, I believe.”
“I’ll h-have to qu-quit,” I said, “It’ll stop in a mu-minute. The other time it said ah ah ah,” I said, laughing. “Let me sit down a while.” I sat down, they watching me, and the little girl with her streaked face and the gnawed looking loaf, and the water swift and peaceful below the path. After a while the laughter ran out. But my throat wouldnt quit trying to laugh, like retching after your stomach is empty.