The Bluffton news. [volume] (Bluffton, Ohio) 1875-current, 1942-08-27
CHAPTER XIV


The Potholes was a section of land
perhaps ten miles square, composed
of gulches and ridges shapelessly
twisted, as though in olden time an
upthrust of the earth's lower levels
had lifted and dropped this crust.
Grant didn't know the region well
enough to orient himself, but Char
ley Hillhouse was thoroughly at
home, selecting the trails without
pause as he came to them. Crossing
a creek that rose in the Potholes
and died in them, they reached a
meadow and carefully skirted its
edge. Beyond this meadow the land
again broke up. Charley Hillhouse
lifted hand over his head, signal
ing caution; a mile forward, coming
to the lip of a deep glen, he waved
his arm by way of command. Grant
stopped, watching Hillhouse step
from his horse and go forward.
Grant dismounted and led the 9TH
er men down the trail to the bottom
of the glen. He climbed the far
side slowly, abreast Hillhouse. Hill
house pointed ahead.
Yonder, in a cup-shaped depres-
sion as large as a small corral,
stood Hack Breathitt's horse. There
was a dead fire in the middle of
the depression, and Hacks saddle
gear. Hack lay beside log, sound
asleep, with his hat pulled over his
head.
Grant dropped at the right of Hill
house, the two other riders crawled
to the foreman's left and thus the
four of them watched the loose
sprawled shape of Hack Breathitt.
The Three Pines foreman had let
his gun and arm drop along the
ground and on his face lay shadows
darker than the dull light of the Pot
holes. Yet on that face was no
particular s7dness and no visible
eagerness. II Gurd Grant saw was
gray, steadfast certainty. Then
Hillhouse lifted the gun, sighted 1t
on Breathitt and spoke quietly:
''It is a hell of time to be pound
in your ear, Hack. Wake up"
Soft as the call was, Hack Breath
tits awakening was instant. All in
a motion he flung his blanket aside,
sprang upright and wheeled around,
reaching for his gun. Hillhouse's S
fiat warning stopped Breathitt's S
draw.
"Cut that out. You're covered
four ways"
This was wrong guess on Char
ley Hillhouse's part, for only three
of them had drawn on Breathitt.
Gurd Grant, rising as the others
rose, held his arms beside him.
Breathitt's horse grunted when Ri
ley heaved up the latigo strap. A
crows strident squawking echoed
through the timber. Shade pressed
around them and even though the
day was half-warm, Gurd Grant felt
a growing chill in his stomach, along
his nerves. He could not help asking
his question.
"What are you going to do, Char
ley?"
HiIlhouse ignored the question,
whereupon Breathitt's grin showed
very white against his steel-black
stubble.
Breathitt reached into his shirt
pocket, producing cigarette materi.
al. He rolled smoke, still showing
that thin-lipped amusement. He
lighted the cigarette and dragged ir
deep breath of smoke. "You won'i
get far with a jury, son. You know
that"
''Yes," said Hillhouse, 81 know it
Riley, bring me his rope"
Riley released the rope from the
thong of Breathitt's saddle. He came
across the depression at slow, bow
legged straddle and handed the rope
to HilIhouse. Hillhouse hooked i
over one arm, keeping his gun free
he looked upward at the trees {
moment, then back to Breathitt
Better get on your horse, Hack"
"No," said Hack, Il guess not
Listen" said Hillllouse in ];
jumpy, hard-pressed tone, make /
easy for man. What you think In
thinkin' about now. Hack? Wha
you suppose I feel?"
Breathitt showed his old partne,
an iron insolence, a black cuttin,
wisdom. There was something il
that look which none of them, Ion.
as they lived, could ever answer
or ever forget. Hack said: There
a knot in your head and nothin' cal
change it. But put this in your book
kid. You've got damned GOO
memory, too-and this is something
you won't shake loose. It'll go +
bed with you and it'll kill your slee]
and it'll make your grub taste lik
sawdust and all the drinkin' in tn
world won't drown it. Take GOO