The Maryville times. (Maryville, Tenn.) 1884-1944, 1915-04-22

Good God!" groaned the man, IN aD-
jectly bitter self-contempt. HIS mana
went involuntarily to his cropped head
and dropped with a gesture Of self
doubling. He looked down at his tan
shoes and silk socds. He rolled PACK
his shirtsleeve and contemplated the
forearm that had once been as brown
and tough as leather. 1t was now the
arm of a city man, except for the burn
ing of one outdoor week. He was
returning at the eleventh hour
stripped of the faith of his kinsmen'
halfstripped of his faith In. himseh'
If he were to realize the constructive
dreams of which he had last night SO
confidently prattled to Adrienne, he
must lead his people from under the
blighting shadow of the feud.
Yet, if he was to lead them at all,
he must first regain their shaken con-
fidence, and to do that he must go. at
their head, through this mire OF war
to vindication. Only fighting South
could hope to be heard in behalf OF
peace. His eventual regeneration be-
longed to some tomorrow. Today held
the need of such work as that OF the
first Samson-to slay.
He must reappear before his kins-
men as much as possible the boy who
had left them-not the fop with new
tangled affectations. His eyes fell
upon the saddlebags upon the floor OF
the Pullman and he smiled satirically.
He would like to step from the train
at Hixon and walk braZenly through
the town in those old clothes, chal-
longing every hostile glance. If they
shot him down on the streets, as they
certainly would do, it would end his
questioning and his anguish of diem
ma. He would welcome that, but it
would, after all, be Sinking the issue.
He must get out of Hixon and into
his own country unrecognized. The
lean boy of four years ago was the
somewhat filled-out man now. The one
concession that he had made to Paris
life was the wearing of a closely
cropped mustache. That he still wore
had worn it chiefly because he liked
to hear Adrienne's humorous denuncia-
ton of it. He knew that, in his pres
ent guise and dress, he had an excel
lent chance of walking through the
streets of Hixon as a stranger. And,
after leaving Hixon, there was mis-
sion to be performed at Jesse Purvy's
store. AS he thought Of that mission
grim CLINT came to his pupils.
All journeys end, and as Samson
passed through the tawdry cars Of the
local train near Hixon he saw several
faces which he recognized, but they
either eyed him in inexpensive silence
or gave him the greeting of the "tur-
riner"
Then the whistle shrieked from the
'trestle over the Middle fork, and at
only short distance rose the cupola
of the brick courthouse and the scat
tered roofs of the town. Scattered
over the green slopes by the river
bank lay the white spread OF a tented
company street, and, as he looked OUT
he saw uniformed figures moving TO
and fro and caught the ring of bugle
call. So the militia was on deck;
things must be bad, he reflected. he
stood on the platform and looked
down as the engine roared along the
trestle. There we're two gatling guns.
One pointed it's muzzle toward the
town, and the other scowled up at the
face of the mountain. Sentries paced
their beats. Men in undershirts lay
doing outside tent flaps. 1t was all
a picture of disciplined readiness, and
vet Samson knew that soldiers made
of painted tin would be equally efec'
tive. These military forces must re-
main subservient to local civil authorl'
ties, and the local civil authorities
obeyed the nod of Judge Holman and
Jesse Purvy.
AS Samson crossed the toll bridge
to the town proper he passed two
brown-shirted militiamen, lounglng on
the rail of the middle span. They
grinned at him, and, recognizing the
outsider from his clothes, one of them
commented:
"Ain't this the hell of town.
! Its going to be-" replied Samson
systematically, as he went on.
Still unrecognized, he hired horse
at the livery stable, and for two hours
rode in silence, save for the easy
creaking of his stirrup feathers and
the soft thud of hoofs.
The silence soothed him. The brood
ing hills lulled his spirit as Grooming
song lulls a fretful child. Mile afteI
mile unrolled forgotten vistas. Some
thing deep in himself murmured:
"Home!"
1t was late afternoon when he saw
ahead of him the orchard of Purvy's
place. and read ON the store wall,
little more weather stained, but other
wise unchanged:
Jesse Purvy, General Merchandise
The porch of the store was empty
and as Samson flung himself from Ms
saddle there was no one to greet MIN
This was surprising, since, ordinarily
two or three of Purvy's persona
guardsmen loafed at the front to watct
the road. Just now the guard shoult
logically be doubled. Samson SUI
wore his eastern clothes-for he want
ed to 20 through that door unknown
AS Samson South he could not cross
i+s Threshold either way. But Whe1