The Blackfoot optimist. [volume] (Blackfoot, Idaho) 1907-1918, 1914-12-31

rode slowly toward the house. At last
the elderly man came alongside the
mule and inquired:
Samson, where was ye last night?"
"Thet's my business"
"Mebbe hit amt" The old noun
taineer spoke with no resentment. but
deep gravity. We've been powerful
Uneasy erbout We. Hev We heered the
news?"
What news?" The boy put the
question noncommittally.
Jesse Purvy was shot this morn.
ing"
The boy vouchsafed no reply.
"The mail rider done told hit. .
Somebody shot five shoots from the
laurel. Purvey hain't died yit.
Some says as how his folks
has sent ter Lexington fer blood
hounds"
The boys eyes began to smolder
hatefully.
Il reckon" he spoke slowly, "he
didn't git shot none too SOON"
"Samson!" The old mans voice had
the ring of determined authority.
When l dies ye'll be the head of the
Souths. but so long es I'm a-runnin'
this hyar family keeps my word ter
friend an foe alike. l reckon Jesse
Purvy knows who got yore pap, but
up till now no South hain't never
busted no truce"
Tho hov'c voioo HrorroH 70 C0f<-nco
and took on shrill crescendo of ex-
element as he flashed out his retort.
''Who said a South has done busted
the truce this timer"
Old Spicer South gazed searchingly
at his nephew.
Samson. but know how We feels
about yore pap. l heered tibet Bud
Spicer come by hyar yistiddy plumb
full of liquor an lowed he'd seen
Jesse an Jim Asberry a-talkin' ter.
gether jest afore yore pap was kilt. )"
He broke off abruptly, then added !:
"Ye went away from hyar last night.
an didn't git in twell after sunup-I
Just heered the news, an come ter
look fer ye."
"Air you-all 1owin' tibet shot them
shoots from the laurel 2" inquired Sam.
son, quietly.
"Ef we-all hain't lowin' hit, Sam.
son, we're plumb shore tibet Jesse
Purvy's folks will low hit. They're
jest a-holdin' yore life like hostage
fer Purvy's, anyhow. Eff he dies they'll
try ter git ye."
The boy flashed a challenge about
the gloup, which was now drawing
rein at Spicer Souths yard fence. His
eyes were sullen, but he made no an
swer.
One of the men who had listened in
silence now spoke:
"1n the fust place, Samson, we hain't
a-sayin' We done hit. In the mex place,
eff We did do hit we hain't a-blamin'
ye-much. But l reckon them dawgs
don't lie, an. eff they trails in hyar
yell need us. Thet's why we've done
come"
The boy slipped down from his mule
and helped Lescott to dismount. He
deliberately unloaded the saddlebags
and kit and laid them on the top step
of the stile, and, while he held his
peace, neither denying nor affirming
his kinsmen sat their horses and
waited
Even to Lescott it was palpable that
some of them believed the young heir
to clan leadership responsible for the
shooting of Jesse Purvy, and that
| others believed him innocent, yet none
the less in danger of the enemy's ven
geance. But, regardless of divided
| opinion, all were alike ready to stand
| at his back and all alike awaited his
final utterance.
Then, in the thickening gloom, Sam
son turned at the foot of the stile
and faced the gathering. He stood
rigid, and his eyes flashed with deeI
passion. His hands, hanging at the
seams of his jeans breaches, clinched
and his voice came in a slow utter
ance through which throbbed the ten
sity of a soul-absorbing bitterness.
Il knowed all bout Jesse Purvy's
bein' shot. When my pap lay
a-dyin' over thar at his house l was
a little shaver ten years old
Jesse Purvy hired somebody ter kill
him an 1 promised my par
that I'd find out who tibet man was
an thet I'd git EN- both-some day
So help me, God Almighty, I'm a.goin
ter git 'em both-some day." The
boy paused and lifted one hand al
though taking an oath.
Pm a-tellin' you-all the truth
But l didn't shoot them shoots this
mornin'. hain't no truce buster.
gives We my hand on hit. 81
them dawgs come hyar they'll find me
hyar, an eff they hain't liars they'll
| go right by hyar. l don't low ter rur
away, an l don't low ter hide out. In
a-goin' ter stay right hyar. Thet's al
I've got ter say ter ye."
For moment there was no reply