The Washburn times. [volume] (Washburn, Wis.) 1896-1976, 1915-07-01
CHAPTER VII.


him away grumbling and rnuttering.
while Vile McCager made apologies to
the guest.
"Jimmy's jest a peevish child" he
explained "a drop or two OF Kicker
makes him skittish. hopes yell look
over hit
Jimmy's outbreak was interesting to
Lescott chiefly as an indication of
what might follow. Unwilling to in
troduce discord by his presence, and
involve Samson In Quarrels on his ac-
count. he suggested riding back to
Misery, but the boys face clouded ut
the suggestion.
"Ef they KANT be civil ter MY
friends" he said. shortly, they've got
ter account tar me. You stay right
hyar. and III stay clost to you. done
come hyar today ter tell 'em that they
mustn't NEEDLE in my business"
A short while later, Vile McCager
invited Samson to come out to the
mill, and the boy nodded to Lescott
an invitation to accompany him.
The mill, dating back to pioneer
days, sat by its race with it's shaft now
idle Il looked to Lescott, as he ap
preached. like q scrap of landscape
torn from some medieval picture, and
the men about Its door seemed medic.
val, too; bearded and gaunt. hard
thewed and sullen.
All Of them who stood waiting were
men Of middle age, or beyond. A num-
Der were gray-haired. but they we're all
OF cadet branches. Many Of them, like
Vile McCager himself. did not bear
the name Of South. and Samson was
the eldest son OF the eldest SON.
Samson" began old Vile NcCager,
clearing his throat and taking up his
duty al spokesman, we're all your
kinfolks here, an we aimed ter ask ye
about this here report thet yer 1owin
ter leave the nnountings?"
What Of hitr' countered the boy.
Hit looks mighty like the wars
a-goin' ter be on gin pretty soon. Air
ye a-goin' ter quit. or air ye a-goin' ter
stick? Thet's what we wants ter
know"
II didn't make this here truce, an |
hain't a-goin' tar bust hit" said the
boy, quietly. When the war COM
mences. I'll be hyar. Ef hain't hyar
in the meantime, hit hain't nobody's
business. hain't accountable ter no
man but pap. an / reckon, whar he is.
he knows whether I'm a-goin' ter keep
my word"
There was q moments silence, then
Vile McCager put another question::
"Ef ys're plumb sot on gettin' larnin'
why don't 20 git hit right hyar in these
mountingsr
Samson laughed derisively.
who'll I git hit from?" he causti-
caliy inquired. III the mountain won't
come ter Mohamet, Mohamet's got ter
60 ter the mountain. reckon"
Caleb Wiley rose unsteadily to his
feet, his shaggy beard trembling with
wrath and his voice quavering with
senile indignation.
"Hev ye done got too damned good
fer yore kinfolks, Samson South" he
shrilly demanded. "Hev ye done been
follerin' after this here puny witch
doctor twell ye can't keep a civil
tongue In yer head fer yore elders?
Pm in favor OF runnin' this here fur
riner outen the country with tar an
feathers on him. Furthermore, I'm In
favor of cleanin' out the Hollmans. l
was jest a-sayin' ter Bill"
Never mind what ye war jest
a-sayin'," interrupted the boy, flushing
redly to his cheekbones, but con-
trolling his voice. we've done said
enough already. Ye're a right old man.
Caleb, an l reckon tibet gives ye some
license ter shoot off yore face, but eff
any Of them no-'count, shifless boys OF
yores wants ter back up what ye says.
I'm ready ter go out thar an make 'em
eat hit. hain't a-goin' ter answer no
more questions"
There was a commotion OF argu-
ment, until BLACK Dave" Jasper, sat
urnine giant, whose hair was no black
er than his expression, rose, and a
semblance of quiet greeted him as he
spoke.
| "Mebby, Samson. we've got right
ter take the studs this away, an ter
refuse ter answer our questions, but
we've got right ter say who kin stay
in this hyar country. Ell ye lows ter
quit US, l reckon we kin quit you
and, II we quits We, We hain't nothin'
| more ter us then no other boy thet's
gettin' too big fer his breeches. This
| furriner is visitor here today, an
we don't low ter hurt him-but he's
| got ter 60. We don't want him round
hyar no longer" He turned to Les
colt. We're a-givin' We fair warnin',
stranger. Ye hain't our breed. After
this, ye stays on Misery at yore own
risk-an' hits aogoin' ter be plumb
risky. That thar's final"
This man." blazed the boy, before
Lescott could speak, 'is a-visitin' me
an Unc' Spicer. When We wants him
ye kin come up thar an git him. Every
damned man of ye kin come. hain't
atsayin' how many of yen go back.
He was 'lowin' that he'd leave hyar ter
morrer mornin'. but after this I'm
a-tellin' ye he hain't a-goin' ter DO hit.
He's a-goin' ter stay es long 60 he
likes, an nobody haint a-goin' ter run
him on" Samson took his stand be-
| fore the painter. and swept the groap