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I told her of Temple Bow, and how I had run away; of Polly Ann and Tom, of the Wilderness Trail and how I shot Cutcheon, of the fight at Crab Orchard, of the life in Kentucky, of Clark and his campaign. Of my doings since; how I had found Nick and how he had come to New Orleans with me; of my life as a lawyer in Louisville, of the conventions I had been to.
One, whose name was Cutcheon, was a little man with a short forehead and a bad eye, and he wore a weather-beaten blue coat of military cut. The second was a big, light-colored, fleshy man, and a loud talker. He wore a hunting shirt and leggings. They were both the worse for rum they had had on the road, the big man talking very loud and boastfully. "Afeard to go to Kaintuckee!" said he.
"Whar did ye come from?" said Tom. "Chiswell's mines, taking out lead for the army o' Congress. But there ain't excitement enough in it." "And you?" said Tom, turning to Cutcheon and eying his military coat. "I got tired of their damned discipline," the man answered surlily. He was a deserter. "Look you," said Tom, sternly, "if you come, what I say is law."
The steward was Charles Kendall Adams, '61, while other members were Walter W. Perry and Byron M. Cutcheon of the class of 1861 and Martin L. D'Ooge of the class of 1862. Recreation was not a part of the earlier curriculum and athletics were unknown under that name, though feats of strength, jumping, lifting dumb-bells, the heavier the better, and foot-races, were common.
Meanwhile the man Cutcheon was slowly walking towards her. It took scarce a second for me to make up my mind. I slipped around the corner of the house, seized the pistol, primed it with a trembling hand, and came back to behold Polly Ann, with flaming cheeks, facing them. They did not so much as glance at me. Riley held a little back of the two, being the coward.
About eleven o'clock Riley and Cutcheon moved off to the edge of a cane-brake near the water, and sat there for a while, talking in low tones. The horses were belled and spancelled near by, feeding on the cane and wild grass, and Polly Ann was cooking journey-cakes on a stone. "What makes you so sober, Davy?" she said. I didn't answer. "Davy," she cried, "be happy while you're young.
"Whar did ye come from?" said Tom. "Chiswell's mines, taking out lead for the army o' Congress. But there ain't excitement enough in it." "And you?" said Tom, turning to Cutcheon and eying his military coat. "I got tired of their damned discipline," the man answered surlily. He was a deserter. "Look you," said Tom, sternly, "if you come, what I say is law."
Tom and Weldon walked ahead, driving the two horses, followed by Cutcheon, his head dropped between his shoulders. The big man, Riley, regaled Polly Ann. "My pluck is," said he, "my pluck is to give a redskin no chance. Shoot 'em down like hogs. It takes a good un to stalk me, Ma'am. Up on the Kanawha I've had hand-to-hand fights with 'em, and made 'em cry quits."
Tom and Weldon walked ahead, driving the two horses, followed by Cutcheon, his head dropped between his shoulders. The big man, Riley, regaled Polly Ann. "My pluck is," said he, "my pluck is to give a redskin no chance. Shoot 'em down like hogs. It takes a good un to stalk me, Ma'am. Up on the Kanawha I've had hand-to-hand fights with 'em, and made 'em cry quits."
Meanwhile the man Cutcheon was slowly walking towards her. It took scarce a second for me to make up my mind. I slipped around the corner of the house, seized the pistol, primed it with a trembling hand, and came back to behold Polly Ann, with flaming cheeks, facing them. They did not so much as glance at me. Riley held a little back of the two, being the coward.
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