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Updated: June 18, 2025
But together they would ride abroad, laughing along the road. To Mrs. Cranceford old Gid was a pest. Like a skittish horse old Gid shied at the office door. Once he had crossed that threshold and it had cost him a crop of cotton. "How are you, John?" was Gid's salutation as he edged off, still fanning himself.
"When I saw the look on Josh's face at that, I'd have hauled off and cuffed Gid's head up to a pick, swan if I wouldn't, but the Marshall girl excuse me, Mis' Ward came tearin' down the path, and threw her arms round Josh's neck and cried, 'O my poor brother! And I came away. "It was too much for me. My eyes were so full that I run against a tree, and pretty near took a wheel off.
But if you really want to talk to me about that piece of cotton, come out under the trees where it's cool." The Major shoved back his papers and arose, but hesitated; and Gid stood looking on, fanning himself. The Major stepped out and Gid's face was split asunder with a broad smile. "I gad. I've been up town and had a set-to with old Baucum and the rest of them.
The Major went above, where he found Gid's men posted at the windows and the loop-holes. "How is everything?" he asked. "Lovely, John." "Don't call me John." "All is well, Major." "Good." And after a time he added: "The south road is so crooked that we don't command it very far, therefore look sharp. Back to your post!" he stormed as Perdue looked up from his loop-hole.
"Oh, I reckon not," answered Uncle Tucker, puffing away as he laid out his monkey-wrenches. "The Honorable Gid is up to his neck in this here no-dram wave what is a-sweeping around over the state and pretty nigh rising up as high as the necks of even private liquor bottles. Gid's not to say a teetotaler, but he had to climb into the bandwagon skiff or sink outen sight.
Before him, on yellowing paper, was old Gid's name, and at it he slowly shook his head, for fretfully he nursed the consciousness of having for years been the dupe of that man's humorous rascality. The plantation was productive, the old fellow had gathered many a fine crop, and for his failure to pay rent there could be no excuse, except the apologies devised by his own trickish invention.
To Parker's surprise the old man did not stop in his rubbing, but said, plaintively, "I was almost afeard it might be some o' Gid's works, or, to say the least his puttin' up. He don't improve any as he grows older." "You have pretty good reason to know how much chance there is for improvement in Gideon Ward," suggested Parker, bitterly.
"The brother of the admiral lives in Memphis," the Major continued, "and the other day he sent me a bottle of that whisky, run through a log before you were born." Gid's mouth flew open and his eyes stuck out. "John," he said, and the restraint he put upon his voice rippled it, "John, don't tamper with the affections of an old and infirm man.
"My outfit will be coming along the trail in a day or two, and I'm warned that it would be well to get a squad of cowboys together to guard it across the plain." "Anythin' valu'ble as you're afraid of gettin' stole?" asked Isa Blagg. "Couldn't it be brought along safe in one o' Gid's farm carts?" Kiddie smiled. "Not quite," he answered. "There's too much of it.
"He's here in this yer camp, right now, with the boys that hev just rounded up an' corralled Gid's stolen ponies; only he ain't figurin' ter meet you as knowed him only as a honest man. He ain't a whole lot proud of hisself, these times, ain't Nick Undrell." Kiddie reached for his hat, strode across the veranda, and turned towards the corral. He looked exceedingly tall and handsome as he went out.
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