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I've heard ez how Aunt Sally Day's boy Ben, who was a-fishin' that evenin, says ez how he seed Isom's harnt a-floatin' across the river in it, without techin' a paddle." The Marcum laughed. "Idgits is thick over hyeh," he said. "Ben's a-gittin' wuss sence Isom was killed.
Daddy Marcum was leaning on a chair at the door, looking eagerly at each man as he passed. "Hain't ye goin', Isom?" Somebody was standing before him twirling a rifle on its butt, a boy near Isom's age. The whirling gun made him dizzy. "Stop it!" he cried, angrily. Old Daddy Marcum was answering the boy's question from the door. "Isom goin'?" he piped, proudly. "I reckon he air.
I know that you and Bat will see that Miss Marcum reaches the railway in safety, and " "Hold on, Win! That oration of yourn ain't got us no hell of a ways, an' already it's wandered about four school-sections off the trail. In the first place, it's me an' not you that does the permittin' for this outfit.
As the horses traversed the two miles of winding trail, Alice Marcum glanced from time to time at the Texan who rode silently at her side. The man's face was grave and he seemed entirely oblivious to her presence. Only once did she venture to speak to him. "I suppose I ought to thank you, Mr. "Tex'll do," supplied the man, without even the courtesy of a glance.
Dully he stared at the thing on the ground at his feet. There was a movement in the scrub and Alice Marcum stood beside him. He glanced into her face. And as her eyes strayed from the sprawling figure to meet his, Endicott read in their depths that which caused his heart to race madly. She stepped toward him and suddenly both paused to listen. The girl's face turned chalk-white in the moonlight.
That was when Rome Stetson, the last but one of his name, and Jasper Lewallen, the last but one of his, put their guns down and fought with bare fists on a high ledge above old Gabe's mill one morning at daybreak. The man who was beaten was to leave the mountains; the other was to stay at home and have peace. Steve Marcum, a Stetson, heard the sworn terms and saw the fight.
Like children they came, Marcums and Braytons, piling their arms on the rock before him, shaking hands right and left, and sitting together on the mourner's bench. Old Brayton was humbled thereafter. He wanted to shake hands with Steve Marcum and make friends. But Steve grinned, and said, "Not yit," and went off into the bushes.
The eyes burned steadily for a long time. For two days she had not spoken, but her voice came now, as though from the grave. "You!" she said, and, again, with torturing scorn, "You!" And then she smiled, for she knew why her enemy was there, and her hour of triumph was come. The girl moved swiftly to the window she could see the wounded Marcum slowly crossing the street, pistol in hand.
"Jackson; 'way up in Breathitt, at the eend of the new road." "No wonder y'u've been gone so long." "I had to wait thar fer the guns, 'n' I had to travel atter dark comm' back, 'n' lay out'n the bresh by day. Hit's full eighty mile up thar." "Air ye shore nobody seed ye?" The question was from a Marcum, who had come in late, and several laughed.
Jasper was fairly whipped; and when Rome let him up he proved treacherous and ran for his gun. Rome ran too, but stumbled and fell. Jasper whirled with his Winchester and was about to kill Rome where he lay, when a bullet came from somewhere and dropped him back to the ledge again. Both Steve Marcum and Rome Stetson said they had not fired the shot; neither would say who had.
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