The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1902-04-16


would snatch from him the glory OF
the only notable deed his official career
had offered. 1t was noon when the
boys eyes discovered the trail In the
muddy bottom land. Two pairs OF
footprints pointing south were all the
signs he needed. and away he ran
through the tangled brake like grey.
hound coursing a jack. The sherin gal
looping along the margin could scarce
" keep up with him. All but ten
Of the mounted posse had been dis.
tanced. and when at last Max emerged
from the thicket. and pointed up the
hill toward his grandfather's house he
could hardly gasp out the words.
Headed for grandpa's" Nudge
gained as they climbed the hill. and
as he stopped 1t and the Watson home
came In sight he paused and waited to
instruct his few remaining adherents.
The rest were scattered in different
directions, led astray by their own
struggling footprints.
Nudge. being a coward and sure OF
his belief that the fugitives would
hardly venture into the Watson house.
bade his men surround the place.
which was on 4 hilltop. while he alone
approached the residence to ask old
Watson II he or his wife had seen
the runaways. Max ran round to the
rear Of the barn and the others made
Gordon at respectful distance 80 as
to prevent escape. Nudge dismounted
at the fence and entered by the front
door. His men waited ten. fifteen,
twenty minutes. then drew nearer.
scared. wondering. alert. In an hour
they ventured into the yard fearing
their sheriff had met foul play.
Suddenly an ill-visaged stranger.
bearing q cooked Winchester. stepped
out ON the porch. shouting:
We've got your sheriff foul and
wen kill him and this old couple the
minute you open fire on US. My part.
.ner has 'em settin' In row against
the wall. The fust shot you fellers
fire we'll kill 'em all, an then we'll
so after you"
Then Nudge was pushed out with
the rife at his back. He, too. appealed
to his posse to give in" He said he
didn't care for his own life. but he
didn't want to bring death on this
poor ole couple" His eye rested on
Max as he pleaded with his men to
help him save the Watsons by with.
drawing. When he went back into the
house Max bade them withdraw to a
respectable distance or 60 home as
they saw ft. Five sneaked for Sage!
vile. The others fingered beyond
range. Max slipped back into the
barn. Just before dusk Nudge. hand;
cuffed and in his stocking feet, was
thrust out. The two fugitives. one
bearing the sberiff's rife and the other
with his pistols at the back Of Mudge's
head, followed. They paused while
one shouted:
First move you fellers make. frst
shot you fire. Nudge dies"
Then they hastened at quickstep
in Indian file across the yard and
down the road into the night. The
warning was repeated at intervals as
they ran. till at last. Max, leading his
horse out of the stable. leaped into the
saddle, sat still q moment and cried
out:
"Oh. grandpa"'
The old man came out at the front
door. his frightened old wife after
him, both handcuffed.
III turn you loose In minute!'
Max shouted. and dashed for the road
Now l will run for sheriff." he NUT.
tered as he laid away into the dark
ness with his magazine gun across the
saddle bow. Half a mile down the
road he saw in the cleaning shadows
by the road, plodding back toward
town, the detected form Of Nudge.
But he did not stop.
1t was 9 o'clock that night when the
reassured sheriff and his defeated
posse returned to rescue Max. They
met him driving sullen prisoner
slowly along in the dark.
"Go UP and cut grandpa and grand
ma loose" he shouted hoarsely. I'm
afraid to chance it."
Where's the other one" demanded
Nudge. plucklng up courage when he
saw the poisc OF Max's gun.
Hes down in Creep Hollow" roared
the triumphant Watson. You can
fetch him In on a shutter"
The Sageville Banner gave Its front
page to this story the next morning,
and an hour before the convention as
sembled the county commissioner so,
telegram from Silas Stanford. the
political boss Of eleven counties. which
read:
Make that boy Of Judge Watson'i
sheriff. Ill fix Mudge."-John b.
Raftery. in the Chicago Record-Her'
aid.