Judith of the Cumberlands

								

But you ought to understand that violence must come when every man is
obliged to take the law into his own hands. I admit that it's an eye for
an eye and a tooth for a tooth with us now--what else could it be? And
yet we are as faithful to each other, as virtuous, and as God-fearing a
race as those in the valley. I am a mountain man, born and bred in the
Turkey Tracks; and I ask you to send me back to my neighbours with the
law, that they may learn to be good citizens, as they are already good
men and women."
Upon the word, there broke out at the farthest corner of the square an
abrupt splatter of sound, oaths, cries, punctuated by the swift staccato
of running feet. The ringing voice came to a sudden halt. Out of a little
side street which descended from the mountain, a young fellow burst into
view, running in long leaping bounds, his hands up. Behind him lumbered
Dan Haley the United States marshal, a somewhat heavy-set man, puffing
and panting, yelling, "Halt! halt! halt!" and finally turning loose a
fusillade of shots aimed high over the fleeing lad's head. There was a
drawing back and a scattering in every direction.
"Hey, Bonbright!" vociferated a man leaping up from the last step where
he had been sitting, pointing to where the marshal's deputy followed
behind herding five or six prisoners from the mountains, "Hey, Bonbright!
There's some of your constituency--some God-fearing Turkey-Trackers--now,
but I reckon you won't own 'em."
"I will!" shouted Bonbright, whirling upon him, and one got suddenly the
blue fire of his hawk-like eye with the slant brow above. "They are my
people, and the way they're treated is what I've been trying to talk to
you-all about."
"Well, you better go and take them fellers some law right now," jeered
his interlocutor. "Looks like to me they need it mighty bad."
"That's just what I'm about," answered Bonbright. "God knows they'll get
no justice unless I do. That's my job," and without another word or a
look behind him he made his way bareheaded through the group on the steps
and down the street.
Meantime the pursued had turned desperately and dodged into the millinery
store whence Judith Barrier had emerged a little earlier. Instantly there
came out to the listeners the noise of falling articles and breaking
glass, and the squeals and scufflings of the women. The red-faced marshal
dived in after his quarry, and emerged a moment later holding him by one
elbow, swearing angrily. Creed Bonbright came up at the instant, and
Haley, needing some one to whom he could express himself, explained in
voluble anger:
"The damned little shoat! Said if I'd let him walk a-loose he'd give me
information. You can't trust none of them."
Bonbright laid a reassuring touch on the fugitive's shoulder as Haley
fumbled after the handcuffs.
"I ain't been into no stillin', Creed!" panted the squirming boy.
"Well, don't run then," admonished Bonbright. "You've got no call to.