The Maryville times. (Maryville, Tenn.) 1884-1944, 1915-04-15

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.
CAS- man to man." he said, Il pledge
you my word that no one shall take
him except by process of law. I'm not
working for the Hollmans or the Pur-
vys. / know their breed"
For space old South looked into
the soldiers eyes and the soldier
looked back.
"I'll take yore handshake on tibet
bargain" said the mOuntaineer, grave
ly. "Tam'rack," he added, in a voice
of finality, we've got ter CO."
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 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 be
fell, shot through the left shoulder by
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 fired. Except for
a woman buying 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 regent and took
upon himself the duties to which Sam
son should have succeeded.
That a 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-
picked, voiced the sentiment that the
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 fly-bitten
tail, and on the mares back, urging
him with a long, leafy switch, sat a
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 ostensibly 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 strange and rather exalted
refinement of expression.
Vile McCager came to the mill door
rs she rode up and lifted the sack
from her horse.
"Howdy, Sally?" he greeted.
"Tol'able, thank We" said Sally. I'm
yoin' ter get off,"
AS she entered the great half-lighted
Dom, where the mill stones creaked
IN their cumbersome shafts, the hum
If discussion sank to silence. The
sirl nodded to the mountaineers gath
red in conclaYe, then, turning to the
miller, she announced:
I'm going to send for Samson"
The statement was at first met with