The Call of the Cumberlands

"I didn't run away." Tamarack's blood-shot eyes flared wickedly. "I

knowed thet ef I stayed 'round hyar with them damned Hollmans stickin'

their noses inter our business, I'd hurt somebody. So, I went over

inter the next county fer a spell. You fellers mout be able to take

things offen the Hollmans, but I hain't."

"Thet's a damned lie," said Samson, quietly. "Ye runned away, an' ye

runned in the water so them dawgs couldn't trail ye--ye done hit

because ye shot them shoots at Jesse Purvy from the laurel--because

ye're a truce-bustin', murderin' bully thet shoots off his face, an' is

skeered to fight." Samson paused for breath, and went on with regained

calmness. "I've knowed all along ye was the man, an' I've kept quiet

because ye're 'my kin. If ye've got anything else ter say, say hit.

But, ef I ever ketches yer talkin' about me, or talkin' ter Sally, I'm

a-goin' ter take ye by the scruff of the neck, an' drag ye plumb inter

Hixon, an' stick ye in the jail-house. An' I'm a-goin' ter tell the

High Sheriff that the Souths spits ye outen their mouths. Take him

away." The crowd turned and left the place. When they were gone, Samson

seated himself at his easel again, and picked up his palette.