Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 11, 2025
I am a pioneer; a borderman is an Indian hunter, or scout. For years my cabins housed Andrew Zane, Sam and John McCollock, Bill Metzar, and John and Martin Wetzel, all of whom are dead. Not one saved his scalp. Fort Henry is growing; it has pioneers, rivermen, soldiers, but only two bordermen. Wetzel and Jonathan are the only ones we have left of those great men."
"Tell Metzar who they're for." Then turning to Sheppard he continued: "He keeps good whiskey; but few of these poor devils ever see it." At the same time Colonel Zane pressed his foot upon that of Jonathan's. The borderman understood that the signal was intended to call attention to Brandt.
From beyond the bar-room, through a door entering upon the back porch, came the rattling of dice. Jonathan crossed the bar-room apparently oblivious to the keen glance Metzar shot at him, and went out upon the porch. This also was crowded, but there was more room because of greater space. At one table sat some pioneers drinking and laughing; at another were three men playing with dice.
We have no valuables," said Will, speaking low. Helen stared at the little man. She was speechless with terror. It flashed into her mind as soon as she recognized the red, evil face of the sailor, that he was the accomplice upon whom Brandt had told Metzar he could rely. "Shut up! It's not ye I want, nor valuables, but this wench," growled Case.
"Handily done," he said, cool and suave. "Sir, yours is an iron hand. I apologize for this unpleasant affair. My man is quarrelsome when under the influence of liquor." "Metzar, a word with you," cried Colonel Zane curtly. "Come inside, kunnel," said the innkeeper, plainly ill at ease. "No; listen here. I'll speak to the point. You've got to stop running this kind of a place.
The tension relieved, some of the crowd laughed, others looked over the embankment to see how Case had fared, and others remarked that for some reason he had gotten off better than they expected. The borderman remained silent. He leaned against a post, with broad breast gently heaving, but his eyes sparkled as they watched Brandt, Williams, Mordaunt and Metzar. The Englishman alone spoke.
Above all things, the bordermen detested boastfulness; tried on Joe the ruse failed signally. "I was scared speechless most of the time," answered Joe, with his pleasant smile. "By gosh, I don't blame ye!" burst out Will Metzar. "I hed that experience onct, an' onct's enough." The boys laughed and looked in a more friendly manner at Joe.
Metzar himself came to see what had caused the excitement. The little man threw up his cap, whooped, and addressed himself to Jonathan: "Injun-killer, bad man of the border, will you drink with a jolly old tar from England?" Suddenly a silence reigned, like that in the depths of the forest. To those who knew the borderman, and few did not know him, the invitation was nothing less than an insult.
That little English cuss was one of them, and another, an ugly fellow, a stranger to us, but evidently a woodsman. Things looked bad. Metzar told a decidedly conflicting story. Wetzel and I went outside to talk over the situation, with the result that I ordered him to clean out the place." Here Colonel Zane paused to indulge in a grim, meaning laugh. "Well, he cleaned out the place all right.
No words, now, you've got to stop. Understand? You know as well as I, perhaps better, the character of your so-called inn. You'll get but one more chance." "Wal, kunnel, this is a free country," growled Metzar. "I can't help these fellars comin' here lookin' fer blood. I runs an honest place. The men want to drink an' gamble. What's law here? What can you do?"
Word Of The Day
Others Looking