The Gentleman from Indiana - Page 100/212

"An' dass de main," he cried, "dass de main kin tell you Ah speak de

trufe."

Before he was answered, Eph Watts looked at Briscoe keenly and then turned

to Lige Willetts and whispered: "Get on your horse, ride in, and ring the

court-house bell like the devil. Do as I say!"

Tears stood in the judge's eyes. "It is so," he said, solemnly. "He speaks

the truth. I didn't mean to tell it to-day, but somehow--" He paused. "The

hounds!" he cried. "They deserve it! My daughter saw them crossing the

fields in the night--saw them climb the fence, hoods, gowns, and all, a

big crowd of them. She and the lady who is visiting us saw them, saw them

plainly. The lady saw them several times, clear as day, by the flashes of

lightning--the scoundrels were coming this way. They must have been

dragging him with them then. He couldn't have had a show for his life

amongst them. Do what you like--maybe they've got him at the Cross-Roads.

If there's a chance of it--dead or alive--bring him back!"

A voice rang out above the clamor that followed the judge's speech.

"'Bring him back!' God could, maybe, but He won't. Who's travelling my

way? I go west!" Hartley Bowlder had ridden his sorrel up the embankment,

and the horse stood between the rails. There was an angry roar from the

crowd; the prosecutor pleaded and threatened unheeded; and as for the

deputy sheriff, he declared his intention of taking with him all who

wished to go as his posse. Eph Watts succeeded in making himself heard

above the tumult.

"The Square!" he shouted. "Start from the Square. We want everybody, and

we'll need them. We want every one in Carlow to be implicated in this

posse."

"They will be!" shouted a farmer. "Don't you worry about that."

"We want to get into some sort of shape," cried Eph.

"Shape, hell!" said Hartley Bowlder.

There was a hiss and clang and rattle behind him, and a steam whistle

shrieked. The crowd divided, and Hartley's sorrel jumped just in time as

the westbound accommodation rushed through on its way to Rouen. From the

rear platform leaned the sheriff, Horner, waving his hands frantically as

he flew by, but no one understood--or cared--what he said, or, in the

general excitement, even wondered why he was leaving the scene of his duty

at such a time. When the train had dwindled to a dot and disappeared, and

the noise of its rush grew faint, the court-house bell was heard ringing,

and the mob was piling pell-mell into the village to form on the Square.

The judge stood alone on the embankment.

"That settles it," he said aloud, gloomily, watching the last figures. He

took off his hat and pushed back the thick, white hair from his forehead.

"Nothing to do but wait. Might as well go home for that. Blast it!" he

exclaimed, impatiently. "I don't want to go there. It's too hard on the

little girl. If she hadn't come till next week she'd never have known John

Harkless."