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"Well?" said Murrell, when they stood together on the landing. "Just come across to the keel boat!" and Slosson led the way down the stairs and from the house. "Damn you, Joe; you might have waited!" observed the outlaw. Slosson gave him a hardened grin. They crossed the clearing and boarded the keel boat which rested against the bank.
"You tried to kill my Uncle Bob at the tavern, you and Captain Murrell. I heard you, and I seen you drag him to the river!" cried Hannibal. Slosson gave a start of astonishment at this. "Why, ain't he hateful?" he exclaimed aghast. "See here, young feller, that's no kind of a way fo' you to talk to a man who has riz his ten children!" Again Bunker swore, while Jim told Slosson to make haste.
Supposing himself safe, Murrell gave Stewart a detailed story of his life. "I was born in Middle Tennessee," Murrell personally stated. "My parents had not much property, but they were intelligent people; and my father was an honest man I expect, and tried to raise me honest, but I think none the better of him for that.
He pulled his horse about and rode back toward the cross-roads at an easy canter. Carrington, with an angry flush on his sunburnt cheeks, stood staring down at the coin that glinted in the dusty road, but he was seeing the face of the girl, indignant, beautiful then he glanced after Murrell. "I reckon I ought to have twisted his neck," he said with a deep breath.
Moreover, though the law might be impotent to deal with Murrell, he could not hope to escape the vengeance of the powerful class he had plotted to destroy; he would have to quit the country. Ware gloated in this idea of craven flight. Thank God, he had seen the last of him! But as always his thoughts came back to Betty.
At length Murrell and his band were driven out, and sought a new field of operations on the Lower Mississippi. They left germs behind them, however, that developed into horse thieve counterfeiters, and later into guerrillas and bushwhackers. When the Rebellion broke out the region at once became the theater of military operations.
For reasons which had seemed good and sufficient she had never discussed Captain Murrell with Norton. "Every day or so?" repeated Norton. "But you don't see him, Betty?" "No, of course I don't." "Tom has no business allowing that fellow around; if he don't know this some one ought to tell him!" Norton was working himself up into a fine rage.
I'm on my way West. Shake hands." His manner was frank and winning, and Yancy met it with an equal frankness. "Well, sir, me and my nevvy are glad to meet some one we've knowed afore. The world are a lonesome place once you get shut of yo'r own dooryard," he said. Murrell slipped from his saddle and fell into step at Yancy's side as they moved forward.
"Wait a minute " he said, and passed his purse to Norton. "Cover his money, sir," he added briefly. "Thank you, my horses have run away with most of my cash," explained Norton. "Your shot!" said Carrington shortly, to the outlaw. Murrell taking careful aim, fired, clipping the center.
"You'll know me again," he observed. "Anywhere," said the judge. "I hope that's a satisfaction to you," said Murrell. "It ain't none whatever," answered the judge promptly. "For I don't value you I don't value you that much!" and he snapped his fingers to illustrate his meaning. "Hannibal!" the judge's voice and manner were rather stern. "Hannibal, a man rode by here last night on a big bay horse.
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