Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1915-09-10

siege. They knew that every trail
thither was picketed. Also, they knew
a better way. This time they had the
color of the law on their side. The
circuit judge, through the sheriff,
asked for troops and troops came.
Their tents dotted the river bank be-
low the Hixon bridge. A detail IN
der a white flag went out after Tama-
rack Spicer. The militia captain in
command, who feared neither feudist
nor death, was c~ourteously received.
that he acted under orders which
could not be d%isobeyed. Unless they
surrendered the prisoner, gatling guns
would follow. If necessary they would
be dragged behind OK teams. Many
militiamen might be killed, but for
each of them the state had another.
If Spicer would surrender, the officer
would guarantee him personal protec-
ton, and, if it seemed necessary, a
change of venue would secure him
trial in another circuit. For hours the
clan deliberated. For the soldiers they
felt no enmity. For the young cap
tain they felt an instructive liking.
He was a man.
Old Spicer South, restored to an
echo of his former robustness by the
call of action, gave the clans verdict.
Hit hain't the cote we're skeered
Of. Eff this boy goes ter town he
won't never git into no cote. He'll be
murdered"
The officer held out his hand.
"As man to man." he said, II pledge
o my word that no n shall take
him except by process of law. I'm not
working for the Hollmans or the Pur-
vys. / know their breed"
For a space old South looked into
the soldiers eyes and the soldier
looked back.
"Irl take yore handshake on thet
bargain" said the ~mountaineer, grave
ly. "Tam'rack," he added, In a voice
of finality, we've got ter 60"
The officer had meant what he said.
He marched his prisoner into Hixon
at the center of a hollow square, with
muskets at the ready. And yet, as the
boy passed into the courthouse yard,
with a soldier rubbing elbows on each
side, a clearly aimed shot sounded
from somewhere. The smokeless pow
der told no tale, and with blue shirts
and army hats circling him. Tamarack
fell and died.
That afternoon one of Hollman's
henchmen was found lying in the road
with his ~lifeless face in the water OF
the creek. The next day, as old Spicer
South stood at the door Of his cabin,
a rifle barked from the hillside, and he
fell, shot through the left shoulder by
a bullet intended for his heart. All
this while the troops were helplessly
camped at Hixon. They had power
and inclination to go out and get men,
but there was no man to get.
The Hollmans had used the soldiers
as far as they wished; they had made
them pull the chestnuts out of the
fire and Tamarack Spicer out of his
stronghold. They now refused to
swear out additional warrants.
A detail had rushed into Hollman's
store an instant after the shot which
killed Tamarack was fred. Except for
a woman buying a card of buttons and
a fair-haired clerk waiting on her, they
found the building empty.
Back beyond, the hills were impene-
trable, and answered no questions.
Old Spicer South would ten years
ago have put a bandage on his wound
and gone about his business, but now
he tossed under his patchwork quilt,
and Brother Spencer expressed grave
doubts for his recovery. With his
counsel 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.
Ito Be Conrlnued.)