The Dawson news. (Dawson, Ga.) 1889-current, 1920-02-10
WHAT GOT BEN'S GOAT
A Saturday Night Story by John
L. Herring in Triton Gazette.

The train was pulling out from
Juniper station. The air in the
smoker was hazy and hot, with the
surplus heat common to steamed
cars. Ben was sitting on the end
of the long seat next to the window,
and his face lighted up reminiscent
| ly.
"a two-story building stood thirty
is now," he said. "The lower floor
was used for a commissary and gen.
eral merchandise store, and / slept in
room upstairs. 1t was new place
then and sorter wild and | didn't
like very much to sleep up there by
myself, as l was only just turned
eighteen. Old man Jones had bunch
of goats that wandered all over the
place, lived on briars and salmon
cans and were always where they
were not wanted.
Zone Saturday night-it was the
night after pay day and we were
open until midnight, as usual had
good lot of money on hand and at
supper asked my brother to sleep
with me, as all the still hands knew
about the money we took in and l
was afaid some of them knew l kept
it with me. There were more than
a hundred negroes working for us
and other firms, and white men were
few. There were some lawlessness,
but not as much as one would think.
Still, | was uneasy.
"When l finally closed up 1T was
dark and raining little. There was
a staircase that came down inside the
store and another that went up out
side the building. l closed and lock-
ed the store, gave my bulldog revol-
yer (suppose it got its name from its
bark instead of its bite, but it looked
like haven elf safety to me) a care
full looking over, and with my hand
on the handle in my hip pocket started
I'D the outside staircase.
"There was door at the front OF
the stairs and another at the top
landing. l shut the bottom door
behind me, and it fastened with a
spring lock. Then started up the
stairs. ,
81 heard something that sounded
like a step ahead of me. My hair
rose. l stood still and listened; yes,
it was a step, and to my horror more
than one! They had waylayed me in
this dark place, and as went up the
steps would knock me down and rob
me. The door behind me was locked,
and before l could open it and get
out they would be on me! l prayed
a little, sort of jerky prayer.
"There were those steps again,
many of them! There must be dozen
of them. I drew my trusty bulldog
and cooked it. The click of the lock
sounded like a fire alarm bell.
"'Who's there?' called.
"No answer. But l heard 'em
move. =.
"T'm armed, and if you don't
speak up I'll shoot I said.
"Still no answer, but the feet STIR
red, many of them. My knees knock
ed together.
"'Who are you? You needn't try
to hide; I hear you. If you don't
answer I'll fire.
"Still no reply; but the feet shut
fed.
"Scared and desperate, ! called
once more in warning, and then get
ting no answer raised my bulldog;
shut nv eyes, gritted my teeth, and
blazed away.
"The thing roared like a cannon IN
that close place. And then things
happened. -
knocked me backwards down the
staircase. AS l fell three or four
things ran over me, and at the bot
tom the others joined US, until l was
mixed up with a dozen frightened
and struggling animals, all as badiy
scared as | was At first tried 10
shoot again, and then to fight back:
But even before they began to oleaC
the scent told me it was old man
Jones' goats. They had gone up the
staircase through the open door. ana
when I came went on up ahead OF me-
7 never was as glad to smell bunch
of goats in my life. -,
81 got the door open ana let eni
out. and then went upstairs ana 70
bed Next morning at breakfast
mother asked: o.,
"'Ben. what skinned your face so
"'Got a bump coming up the stairs
in the dark / said.
"But ever since l have thougnC
lot more of goats than l used TO-