Allen would kill anybody who
interfered with him. So would he--David--if a man edged up on him or on
his family; if any one hurt even a dog of his, his own dog, he'd shoot
him.
An inextinguishable hot pride, a deep sullen intolerance, rose in him
at the thought of an assault on his personal liberty, his rights, or on
his connections and belongings. A deeper red burned in his fresh young
cheeks; his smiling lips were steady; his candid blue eyes, ineffably
gentle, gazed widely against the candlelit gloom where he was making
his simple preparations for bed. The last feeling of which he was
conscious was a wave of sharp admiration, of love, for everything and
everybody that constituted his home.
III
Allen, on his return the following evening, immediately opened an
excited account of the new family, with no women, on the place by Elbow
Barren.
"I heard they were from down hellwards on the Clinch," he repeated;
"and then that they'd come from Kentucky. Anyway, they're bad. Ed
Arbogast just stepped on their place for a pleasant howdy, and some one
on the stoop hollered for him to move. Ed, he saw the shine on a rifle
barrel, and went right along up to the store. Then they hired Simmons--
the one that ain't good in his head--to cut out bush; and Simmons
trailed home after a while with the side of his face all tore, where
he'd been hit with a piece of board. Simmons' brother went and asked
them what was it about; and one of the Hatburns--that's their name--
said he'd busted the loony just because!"
"What did Simmons answer back?" Hunter Kinemon demanded, his coffee cup
suspended.
Pages:
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156