The Emmett index. [volume] (Emmett, Idaho) 1893-1925, 1915-03-04

doubts for his recovery. With his
ccbnsel unavailable Vile McCager, by
common consent, assumed something
like the powers of a regent and took
upon himself the duties to which Sam
son should have succeeded.
That Holman should have been
able to elude the pickets and penetrate
the heart of South territory to Spicer
South's cabin was both astounding and
| alarming. The war was on without
question now, and there must be coun-
Gil. Vile McCager had sent out sum-
mons for the family heads to meet
that afternoon at his mill. 1t was Sat
urday-"mill day"-and in accordance
with ancient custom the lanes would
be more travelled than usual
Those men who came by the wagon
road afforded no unusual spectacle.
| for behind each saddle sagged sack
Of grain. Their faces bore no stamp
of unwonted excitement, but every
man balanced rifle across his POM
mel. None the less, their purpose was
grim, and their talk when they had
gathered was to the point.
Old McCager, himself sorely per-
others had been too courteous to ex-
! press. With Spicer South bed-ridden
and Samson a renegade, they had no
adequate leader. McCager was solid
man of intrepid courage and honesty,
/ but grinding grist was his vocation,
not strategy and tactics. The enemy
had such masters of intrigue as Purvy
and Judge Holman.
Then a lean sorrel mare came jog
ging into view, switching her fiy-bitten
tail, and on the mares back, urging
him with long, ieafy switch, sat
woman Behind her sagged the two
loaded ends of corn sack. She was
1.-THE and slim, and her violet eyes
were profoundly serious, and her lips
were as resolutely set as Joan of Arcs
might have been, for Sally Miller had
come only ostensibiy to have her corn
ground to meal. She had really come
to speak for the absent chief, and she
knew that she, would be met with deri-
sion. The years had sobered the girl,
but her beauty had increased, though
1t was now a chastened type, which
gave her a strange and rather exalted
refinement of expression.
Vile McCager came to the mill door
as she rode up and lifted the sack
from her horse.
"Howdy, Sally?" he greeted.
"ToPable, thank ye," said Sally. I'm
goin ter get off,
AS she entered the great halflighted
room, where the mill stones creaked
on their cumbersome shafts, the hum
of discussion sank to silence. The
girl nodded to the mountaineers gath
cred in conclave, then, turning to the
miller, she announced:
I'm going to send for Sa-nson."
The statement was at first met with
dead silence, then came rumble Of
indignant dissent. but for that the
girl was prepared, as she was prepared
for the contemptucus laughter which
followed.
81 reckon if Samson was here" she
said, dryly, you all wouldn't think il,
was quite so funny"
Old Caleb Wiley spat through his
bristling beard, and his voice was a
quavering rumble.
What we wants is man. We hain't
got no use fer no traitors thet's too al
mighty damn busy doin' fancy work
ter stand by their kith an kin"
That's liei" said the girl, scorn.
fully. There's just enc man living
that's smart enough to match Jesse
-Purvy-an' that one man is Sam
son. Samsons got the right to lead
the souths, and he's going to do it-ef
he wants to-
Sally" Vile McCager spoke, sooth-
ingly, don't go gittin' mad. Caleb
talks hasty. We knows We used ter
be Samson's gal, an we haint amin
ter hurt yore feelin's. But Samson's
done left the mountings. l reckon
eff he wanted ter come back, he'd
a-come afore now. Let him stay whar
he's at"
"Whar is he at?" demanded old Ca
leb Wiley, in truculent voice.
That's his business" Sally flashed
back, but know. All / want to tell
you is this. Don't you make move
till 1 have time to get word to him.
tell you, he's got to have his say.
81 reckon we hain't a-goin ter wait
sneered Caleb, "fer a Teller thet won't
let hit be known whar he's a-sojourntn'
at. Eff We air so shore of him, why
won't yet tell us whar he is now?"
That's my business, too" Sally's
voice was resolute. I've got letter
here-itll take two days to get to
Samson. It'll take him two or three
days more to get here. You've got to
wait week"
sally the temporary chieftain
spoke still in patient. humoring sort
of voice, as to a tempestuous child,
thar hain't no place ter mail letter
higher then Hixon. No South can't
ride inter Hixon, an ride out again.
The mail carrier won't be down this
way fer two days yit."
I'm not askin any South to ride
into Hixon. l recollect another time
when Samson was the only one that
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