Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1921-08-19

and 1t started over nOthln. Granupap
Littleford and John Moreland's pap
got in a dispute over whether haln-
lucky was in Virginny or Nawth Ca
liner, and went to fightin' about 1t.
Purity soon my Uncle Saul and Abner
Moreland happened along. and they
went to fightin', too. Thank goodness,
it was on Sunday, and none of 'em
didn't have their rifles with 'em. WHAT
ever else we are or amt up here, Bill
Dale, we gen'ally respects the Sabbath
day to keep it holy. -.
II see," Dale muttered sympathet-
icaIly.
sI've seen my own mother set down
in the floor and take her boys head
In her lap-oh, such big, fine boy he
was while the blood run through her
dress from a Moreland's bullet. He
died with mothers arms and mine
around him. 1t was all we could do
TO him, was to love him. I've seen sis
ters watch their brothers die from
Moreland bullets, and young wimmen
watch their sweetheartS die, and wives
watch their husbands die.
Il tell you, Bill Dale, them More
even half a fair shot, You'd be puff
fectly safe in a-lettin' any of 'em shoot
dimes from atween yore finger and
thumb all day. And it's the same way
with the Littlefords. They're fighters,
too, every one, and they don't give in
any more than the Morelands does.
'Addie Moreland knows what it is
to take her dyin' boys head in her lap.
whilst blood run through her dress to
her knees: His name was Charley,
and he was bad he'd drink, and oncet
he shot up Gainesville. But Addie,
she allus loved him better'n Gale or
Luke. Wimmen like her allus loves
the worst boys the best; cause they
need 1t the most. the worst boys does.
''It's the wimmen that pays, Bill
Dale, when the's tghtin' The vim
men o. this valley is right now on
needles; they're afeard the menll find
their rifles. You can guess whar the
guns went to now, CANT We? The vim
men hid 'em last night after the men
had gone to sleep! BY good luck, they
had almost whole night fo' it. You
must be shore to keep it to yourself
but | know We will. Addie Moreland.
she started the idee. She got Granny
Moreland to spread the word amongst
the wimmen O. my people. When the
fghtin' fever sort o. dies down the
guns'll all be brought back and put
whar they belong"
She arose and stood there smiling
down upon him. He was staring at
the swirling water without seeing It
at all.
Her voice brought him to himself.
"What're you a-thinkin' about Bill
Dale?"
Dale went to his feet. He saw that
she was smiling, and he smiled, too.
Il was thinking" he said, "of the
difference between you and some other
women | know
Her clear brown eyes widened
And reckon / seem purity no count,
don't III
mo, not at all. 1t is--er. quite the
opposite, Babe. You make them ap-
pear unreal, artificial"
Babe Littleford's countenance bright
ened. She did not doubt that he meant
it. He was not of the sort that fiat
tered. She began to like Bill Dale at
that same moment.
i And Bill Dale told himself as he
went hOmeward that he was beginning
to like Babe LittlefOrd. He did not
fight the feeling, because it somehow
made the world seem better place.
Early the following morning Dale
made ready for his journey to Cincin-
natl. Having learned the evening be-
fore that he was going, BY Heck had
/ come to accompany him to the Half
way switch.
hours in which to cross David More
lands mountain before the arrival OF
Dale's train. and they walked lei
surely.
/ They had not gone a dozen rods
when there came from somewhere
down near the river the sound Of q
rifle shot. Both stopped and faced
4 about quickly.
.Pll be dadgummed eff the Little
fords amt found their weapons I" ex-
claimed BY Heck. "They have, igod
as shore as dangit"
"How do you know?" Dale's voice
was troubled.
Il shore know" and Heck narrowed
his gaze. "'At was Ben Littlefords
old As Winch. I'd know that gun ef
l heered it at the nawth pole. The
BARI it's been cut off, and it don't
sound like other Winchesters."
"Caleb Moreland was down near the
river cleaning out the springhouse
ditch" Dale muttered facing his com
panion. II think we'd better go back
Together they went back to the
cabin. John Moreland and his wife
and their son Luke were standing at
/ the weatherbeaten front gate, with
their eyes turned anxiously toward the
river. Caleb was coming up through
the meadow, and he carried his hat in
his hand.
'sWho fired that shot?" asked Dale,
/ aBen Littleford," John Moreland an
swered readily.
| Two minutes later Caleb leaped the
old rail fence on the other side of the
road and approached them hastily. He
was breathing rapidly and his strong
young face was drawn and pale-with
| the old hate.
Il