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His hair stood up in two tufts above his forehead, one on each side, and he had large, round, grayish eyes and a solemn, pondering expression. To Meddy, staring horror-stricken, he seemed as owlishly wise as he looked while he explained the object of his expedition. "This district have got a poor reputation with the law, Mr. Kettison.
Then kem up ter Gran'dad Kettison's whenst it is cleverly dark an' tap on the glass winder not on the batten shutter. An' I'll hev cartridges an' powder an' ball for ye' an' some victuals ready, too." But the fugitive, despite his straits, demurred. "I don't want ter git old man Kettison into trouble for lendin' ter me." "'T ain't his'n. 'T is my dad's old buckshot ca'tridges an' powder an' ball.
There was an enigma in the rejoinder; she did not stay to read the riddle, but went on to possess the situation, according to her wont. "Ye hev tuk a powerful pore place ter hide," she admonished him. "This tree is a plumb cur'osity. Gran'dad Kettison war tellin' some camp-hunters 'bout'n it jes this evenin'. Like ez not they'll kem ter view it."
"Light a tallow-dip, Meddy," cried old Kettison, excitedly. "An' fetch the candle on the porch so ez we-uns kin view who rides so late in sech a night 'fore we bid 'em ter light an' hitch." But these were travelers not to be gainsaid the sheriff of the county and four stout fellows from the town of Colbury, summoned to his aid as a posse, all trooping in as if they owned the little premises.
He warn't even graced with a death-bed ter breathe his last; Meddy air partic'lar afflicted that he hed ter die afoot." Old Kettison glanced about the circle, consciously facetious, his heavily grooved face distended in a mocking grin. "A horrible fate!" exclaimed Seymour, with a half-shudder. "Edzac'ly," the old mountaineer assented easily.
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