The Tomahawk. [volume] (White Earth, Becker County, Minn.) 1903-192?, 1925-06-18


with dollar.
II hain't never harmed tn state nh
Kaintuck. All I've did is to kill ev'ry
man en- find whit helped kill my
brother. / hain't hurt none uh them
tn state sent after me, although they
wuz meddlin' In q personal matter
whut Is JUS between tn McBees an
Canfers."
He got up and faced his listener.
| "Whut We got to do with hit, Bill
Hardin? Whut bisness is hit uh
yourn?" A vein Of raillery ran
through his next words. But for
got. Ye didni come fer me, but JUS
wanted job. Hev We got enough uh
grubbin' stumps?'
The detective sat quietly In his
chair, his eyes half-closed. "Anse,
you've caught me with the goods"
Il reckernized We as soon as l seen
We. Shawn Off mustache hain't
much uh disguise, Bill"
swell, Anse," Hardin arose and met
his eyes fearlessly. what you going
to do about itY'
| I'VE know whut oughta do. But
l don't want no trouble with tn state.
Yeve ct my grub, ye kin sleep In
my house tonight. Tomorrow I'll drive
We to tn station in time to ketch
Number Four. But don't never como
back out here, Bill"
rs that threat?"
Take hit as q warnin', Bill. Ye'rs
squar' an we've got nerve. I don't
want nothin' to happen to ye in my
country"
The detective yawned. II think you
said something about bed" he sug.
gested.
The feudist lighted tallow-dip. and
pointed to the steep stairway. Hardin
took the light out of his hand and
started to climb upstairs.
"Wait minute, Bill" the Devil
called. LESS have ev'rything straight
between US. We uns is awful light
sleepers an mighty nervus. Whenever
we hear SCUM in tn night we shoot
fust an look afterwards. Gin We walk
in yer sleep ye'd better fassen tn door
SOS We can't open 1t less'n ye're wide
awake"
The next morning Anse presided at
the breakfast table with his homely
grace. Hardin ate hearty meal. ex-
pressing his appreciation by the keen
ness Of his appetite.
A CLEAN came into his eyes as he got
In the buggy beside his host and no
ticed that the brown old rifle had been
left behind.
The mountaineer was by nature a
taciturn soul and the law officer was
busy with his thoughts, therefore the
drive was finished In silence.
AS the train pulled in, Anse reached
in his pocket.
BILL" he drawled, humorous ligh,
in his deep-set eyes, 9TH Good Book
says that tn laborer Is worthy uh his
hire; with the words, he dropped a
silver dollar in Hardln's blistered palm.
The detective reached back to put
the coin in his pocket. His hand
flashed up holding revolver.
II don't see any reason why you
shouldn't take the trip with me-" he
remarked, cheerfully.
The old man shook his head gloom
lily. "Put hit back, Bill, I'm disap-
pointed with We. Ye'd oughta know me
better. I don't trus' no man further
back than fust cousin an expected
this"
"Cut that out" Hardin snapped tri-
umphantly. "Get aboard"
For answer the outlaw whistlcd
shrilly. Half dozen loafers on the
platform were transformed into alert
mountain men. They bounded toward
the detective and surrounded him with
leveled revOlvers. Anse chuckled at
the changed expression Of Hardlns
face and waved them away.
"Ye see, Bill, they're my people.
They'd die fer me like I'd die fer 'em.
Ye bin buttin' In on private quart
an We don't deserve to git away. Jump
on yer train an 60 back to Roanoke
whar We belong before change my
min. An don't never come back"
The officer shrugged his shoulders
and thrust his gun back in his pocket.
"Good-by, Anse," he called from the
platform of the last coach.
Devil Anse Garfield stood and
watched the train disappear in the
East. His thumb felt vainly for its
wonted occupation; look Of fear
sprang into his eyes.
"'Troy Tro-O-y I" he yelled shrillv
The boy ran to him.
"Whur's Betsyw
The lad handed her to him. The
feel Of the cold steel treasured him.
With a sigh Of relief he turned to his
buggy, his thumb twiddling the worn
hammer as dog ticks his masters
shoe.
Come on, kid; less go home," he
drawled.