Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1911-02-24
nounced that he'd "be DANCED eff the
patient should have a grain of it."

the boy. THE paper yander in Fo'sytht
has printed bout his gittin' lost in tn
hills whilst he wuz lookin' for us, only
hit don't name us-Bill Ousley' NC
know better'n toe do thet. Thar hit
Is, y and Gabe drew a country newspa-
per from him pocket, after which he
read slowly the tale of a revenue Off
Ger who had been missing since sew
eral hours before the storm set in
Gabe was not much Of a scholar, but
he was proud Of the accomplishment
which enabled him to read print. some
thing neither his father nor his mother
could do.
PA, I've jest give the stranger q
glass NV milk with an aig beat up in
hit an his fever was plumb gone
down."
Sim turned to his wife, who was
framed in the doorway that led to the
next room. He made no answer; he
was thinking.
we could cut the scounnels throat
an bury him under tn old lime kiln
suggested Gabe, after his mother had
disappeared.
Sim made an impatient gesture and
answered: Wait tell mornin'."
rHow's yer pashunt, MAJ" asked the
old man at breakfast. He wuz sleep
in well enough when I seen him at
bedtime"
Pert ez kin be-" answered Mrs.
Chittim. while ago he said he felt
like he'd relish an aig, an billed him
two. He jest gulped 'em down."
Sim shifted uneasily and was silent,
but Gabe blurted out:
Ma, he's a revernooer. He wuZ out
in the mountains lookin' fer u.s."
The woman arose, stood livid a mo-
ment, gasped and sat down. She was
kind-hearted enough, but the one un-
pardonable offense, so far as she was
concerned, was the manner In which
her husband and her son had been
bounded. Finally she inquired:
':Whut' y'goin' toe doe, pa?"
"Cut his throat?" interrupted Gabe.
not in answer to his mother, but as an
inquiry of his father.
He's ct my SALT" announced Chit
tim slowly, and, after pause, he add
ed: II saved his life yander In the
mountains, an now I'm sorry I done
hit. I'd a shot him down eff I'd cotched
him doggin my trail, but faint nach'-
al toe save a mans life an then take
hit. 1 amt no Injun."
The meal was finished in silence, but
after 1t was over Mrs. Chittim avoided
the strangers room. Her ministra-
tions were at an end. Sim himself be-
came a reluctant nurse.
At times in the front room he hand
led the guests rife fondly, and once
he asked the cost of the weapon.
One hundred dollars! He didn't see
that much money from years end to
years end. Plainly he would never
own breech- loader.
II amt bin able to git out, stranger,
sence I fotched you heah; did you find
my .still?'" inquired Sim abruptly.
The man, who, like most of his kind,
was unafraid, started.
I'm Sim Chittim, all right" the far
mer continued, "an' I orta cut yer
throat-an' I'd a done hit, but I jest
nachully couldn't. You ct my salt"
The revenue officer paled. He had
had no idea his host was Chittim.
Knowing the secretiveness OF the
mountain folk, he had hesitated to ask
the name, and no information had been
volunteered. After a silence of some
minutes he said:
IT did not find your STILL Mr.. Chit
tim. It was my intention to go away
and send another man to look 1t up.
OF course, l can't do that now. l res
pect my oath Of office, I hope, but I'm
no migrate"
A "halloo!" at the door announced
that the wagon had arrived. The
stranger arose. He had no luggage, no
impedimenta except his gun and am
munition case. Sim stepped into the
next room and brought out the wea-
pom, upon which his eyes feasted.
I'll send you by express to Forsythe
a box of 500 cartridges for the gun,'
began the deputy in an even tone'
land a catalogue showing where you
can get more when those are gone. You
spared my life, Mr.. Chittim-the gun is
yours"
1t was too much for the old noun
taineer A lump came into his throat.
You ct my SALT" he began feeply
as If in apology for having failed 10
take a human lfe-and a minute later
he sat alone, hugging the finest fire.
arm ever owned by a poor farmer In
the hill country.-New York Teie-
graph.