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The tread of living man never more would disturb old Isom Chase, but Sol Greening moved as silently as a blowing leaf. "Who done it?" he repeated. "He did," answered Joe. "He done it!" repeated Greening, looking from the rifle, still clutched in Isom's hand, to the gold in the crook of his arm, and from that to Joe's blanched face. "He done it!"
"Something something of mine?" she asked. Mrs. Greening nodded. "Something Isom left. Fetch it to her, Sol." Sol disappeared into the dread parlor where Isom lay, and came back with a large envelope tied about with a blue string, and sealed at the back with wax over the knotted cord. "It's Isom's will," said Sol, giving it to Ollie.
Ax him to fergive me fer killin' ye." "Have mercy, O Lawd," prayed Crump, to command and the prayer was subtle "on the murderer of this Thy servant. A life fer a life, Thou hev said, O Lawd. Fer killin' me he will foller me, 'n' ef Ye hev not mussy he is boun' fer the lowes' pit o' hell, O Lawd " It was Isom's time to wince now, and Crump's pious groan was cut short.
"In case I'm held over there a week, you keep your eye on that agent, and don't let him stay here a day overtime without another week's board in advance." "I'll attend to him," promised Joe. Isom's hand had lingered a minute on Joe's shoulder while he talked, and the old man's satisfaction over the depth of muscle that he felt beneath it was great.
Steve says he didn't do it, 'n' he wouldn't say you didn't. Looks to me like Steve did the killn', 'n' was lyin' a leetle. He hain't goin' to confess hit to save your neck; 'n' he can't no way, fer he hev lit out o' these mount'ins long ago." If Steve was out of danger, suspicion could not harm him, and Rome said nothing. "Isom's got the lingerin' fever ag'in, 'n' he's outin his head.
Scant as the food had been at Isom's until his revolt had forced a revision of the old man's lifelong standard, Joe felt that morning after his second jail breakfast that he would have welcomed even a hog-jowl and beans.
Then he raised his slow eyes to the coroner's face. "That was between him and me," said he. "Very well," said the coroner shortly, resuming his seat. "You may tell the jury how Isom Chase was shot." Joe described Isom's leap for the gun, the struggle he had with him to restrain him, the catching of the lock in the fork as Isom tugged at the barrel, the shot, and Isom's death.
Ollie, her eyes closed languidly, now languidly opened to follow the track of the lamb-fleece clouds, her young body feeling warm and pleasant, as if lately released from a sorely cramped state; Ollie, with little fleeting dreams in her pretty, shallow head, was believed by the women of the neighborhood to be in the way of realizing on Isom's expectations of an heir.
Their eyes came near meeting, and she turned quite away. "Ever seed a body out'n his head?" The girl's eyes rounded with a start of surprise. "Well, it's plumb cur'us. Isom's been that way lately. Isom's sick, ye know. Uncle Gabe's got the rheumatiz, 'n' Isom's mighty fond o' Uncle Gabe, 'n' the boy pestered me till I come down to he'p him.
He had taken the money, just as it was in the little sack, a smear of blood on it, after counting it before witnesses and giving her a receipt for the amount. Two thousand dollars; one hundred pieces of twenty dollars each. That was the tale of the contents of the canvas bag which had lain grinning on Isom's pulseless heart.
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