Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1915-02-23
CHAPTER VII.

CHAPTER VII.
Several sober men closed arouhu
the boy, and after disarming him. leu
him away grumbling and mutterlns'
while Vile McCager made apologies 10
the guest.
"Jimmy's just a peevish chiid' he
explained. "A drop or two OF hckei
makes his skittish. l hopes yel 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 al
the suggestion.
"Ef they KANT be civil ter my
friends" he said, shortly, they've got
ter account ter me. You stay rlsh'
hyar and I'll stay close to you. done
come hyar today ter tell 'em that they
mustn't meddle in my business.
short while later, Vile McCager
invited Samson to come out 10 lhe
mill. and the boy nodded to Lescott
an invitation to accompany him.
The mill, dating back to pioneer
days, sat by it's race with it's shaft now
idle. 1t looked to Lescott, as ne ap-
preached, like a scrap of landscape
torn from some medieval picture, ana
the men about it's 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 were all
of cadet branches. Many of them' ike
Vile McCager himself, did not bear
the name of South and Samson was
the eldest son of the eldest son.
Samson" began old Vile McCager'
clearing his throat and taking up MS
duty as spokesman, we're all your
kinfolks here, an we aimed ter ask ye
about this here report they yer lowin
ter leave the mountings?"
What Of hit countered the boy.
Hit looks mighty like the wars
a-goin' ter be on agin pretty soon'
Air We a-goin' ter quit, or air We a-goln
ter stick? Thet's what we wants ter
know"
II didn't make this here truce, an l
hain't a-goin' ter bust hit" said the
boy, quietly. when the war com
mences, Ill be hyar. Eff l haint hyar
in the meantime, hit hain't nobody
business. l hain't accountable ter no
mali but pap, an reckon, whar ne Is
he knows whether I'm a-goin' ter keep
my word
There was a moments silence, then
Vile McCager put another question:
"Ef we're plumb sot on gettin' larnin
why don't ye get hit right hyar IN
these mountings?"
Samson laughed derisively.
Who'll 1 git hit from?" he causti-
cally inquired. EFF the mountain won't
come to Mahomet, Mahomet's got ter
60 ter the mountain, l reckon"
Caleb Wiley rose unsteadily to his
feet, his shaggy beard trembling with
wrath and his voice quavering with
senile Indignation,
Have We done got too damned good
fer yore kinfolks, Samson South ne
shrilly demanded. "Hav ye done been
follerin' after this here puny witch
doctor twell ye can't keep a civil
tongue in yer head fer yore elders:
I'm 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.
was jest a-sayin' ter Bill"
Never mind what ye war jest
a-sayin'," interrupted the boy, flushing
redly to the cheekbones, but con-
trolling his voice. we've done said
enough already. Ye're a right old man
Caleb, an l reckon thet gives We some
license ter shoot off yore face, but OF
any of them no-'count, shif'less boys
Of yores wants ter back up what ye
says, I'm ready ter go out thar an
make EN- eat hit. / hain't a-goin' tel
answer no more questions"
Inere was d VI ca
ment, until Black Dave" Jasper a
saturine giant, whose hair was nc
blacker than his expression, rose. and
a semblance of quiet greeted him as
he spoke.
Samson, mebby we've got right
ter take the studs this away. an tel
refuse ter answer our questions, but
we've got right ter say who kin stay
in this hyar country. Eff ye lows tel
quit us, l reckon we kin quit you
and, if we quits We, ye hain't nothin
more ter us than no other boy thet's
gettin too high fer his breeches. This
furriner is a visitor here today, an
we don't low ter hurt him-but he's
got ter go. We don't want him rounf
hyar no longer" He turned to Les
colt. We're a-givin ye fair warnin'
stranger Ye hain't our breed. Attel
this, ye stays on Misery at yore owl