The Glenwood post., 1921-11-05

1t lasted hotly for tive hours, but
the casualties were comparatively
few, because there was SO much cover
available. From the beginning the
Balls and the Turner's had the worst
Of 1t. which was due to uphill shoot
ing. white whisky, and lack Of the
iron that makes real fighting men.
The cartridges Of those below were
giving out; they had fired too many
shots needlessly. N"
TITS about me to rush them" Dale
said to John storeland, who had crept
up beside hiH,.
Jest give the word" Moreland
nodded.
few minutes later, Bill Dale sent
tainside. forming a half-circle Of his
force once more; then the whole line
rushed, surrounded the enemy and
called for surrender.
But the Balls and their kinsrnen
wouldn't give in yet. They left their
cover and started to run, found them
selves facing Morelands and Little
fords in every direction, dubbed their
rifles and fought. 1t was not true
courage that prompted them to offer
resistance thus: it was utter despera-
ton; they had never been givers Of
mercy, therefore they did not expect
mercy. Dale's men forebore to fire
upon them, which was at Dale's COM
mand, and met them with dubbed
rifles. The woodland rang with the
sound Of wood and steel crashing
against wood and steel. Everywhere
there were groans and threats and
curses from the losing side, victorious
cries and further demands for sur
render from the winners.
Bill Dale, ever a lover of fair com
bat, threw down his repeater to Crap
pie with big North Carolinian whose
dubbed weapon had been knocked
from his hands. The two fell and
rolled down the mountainside, locked
in each others arms.
And then one of the Balls struck
Bill Dale across the head with the butt
Of his empty gun, and Bill Dale slack
ened his arms and lay as one dead.
He was lying under cover in hand
carved black walnut fourposter, and
It was night, when he opened his eyes
again. Above him he saw the bearded
faces of Ben Littleford and John
Moreland, and they looked haggard
and anxious in the oil lamps yellow
light. Suddenly Moreland spoke:
"Dead-nothin' brilliantly. Look.
Ben; he's done come to! Ye couldn't
put him in cannon and shoot him
ag'inst cliff and kill him, Benz
hope ye're a-feelin' all right, Bill,
shore"
Dale realized everything quite clear
ly. He put hand to his head; there
was II wet cloth lying over the swollen
place.
"IIe shore give ye 4 buster Of q
lick" drawled a voice that Dale in
stantly recognized as that of his wor-
shipper By Heck. DANCED eff Gale
Moreland didn't might nigh 1t beat
him to death. Bill"
Many men crowded to the bedside
and smiled at him, and he smiled back
at them. Soon he asked:
Did you capture the outfitr'
Every burned one of EN-" answered
John Moreland. They're all shst up
tight In the downstairs O. the efice
buildin'. onder gyard. The amt but
one of EN- plumb teetotally dead, TO
4 wonder; but the's q whole passed. of
EN- hurt. I've done sent Luke to town
on hossback, after doctor TO you
and Saul and Little Tom; and he can
tend to them crippled Balls, too, I
reckon, eff you think it's best. What're
we a-goin' to do with them fellers. Bill?"
"We're going to take them to the
Gainesville jail" Dale answered
promptly.
II had q different plan AN that
planned out John" said BY Heck.
winking at Ben Littleford. II had 1t
planned out to hang 'em all on a big
green hemlock as Christmas tree TO-
Bill! Some devilish rough Christmas
eve ye're a-havin', Bill, old boy, amt
it,"
Rather" smiled Dale. He closed
his eyes. His head ached. and he was
somehow very tired.
Within the hour he went to sleep.
and when he awoke 1t was daylight on
Christmas morning. Ben Littleford.
half dressed, was stirring the Goals
TO life in the wide-mouthed stone fire.
place. Dale felt better than he had
exnectefl TO feel: he greeted Little
ford with the compliments of the sea-
son, arose and dressed himself.
Littleford had Just gone with =
handful Of kindling wood toward
the kitchen, when there was low,
light tapping at the outside door Of
Bill Dale's room. Dale arose from
his sbeepskin-lined rocker before the
CHEEKY log fire, went to the door and
openeO IT, Before him stood slim,
BAREFOOT hoy In the poorest Of rags;
In the pififIlly slender arms there was