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Updated: May 3, 2025
"Why air ye willin' ter make thet compact with me?" he inquired dubiously, and the other answered promptly: "Because ter send ye ter sulter in ther penitenshery wouldn't pleasure me ner content me ... no more then ter see ye unchurched fer tale-bearin'. Ye've got ter die under my own hands.... Ef ye makes oath an' abides by hit ... ye needn't be afeared thet I won't keep mine, too."
Many of these onlookers remembered the dark and glowing face with which Turk had said yesterday of the man upon whom he was now smiling, "Penitenshery, hell! Hit's got ter be ther gallows!" Public amazement was augmented when Kenneth Thornton and his wife went home with Will Turk and slept as guests under his roof.
"Thet man," he shouted, "hes bore ther semblance of yore friend, but he aims ter deestroy ye.... I knows because I've done been his slave an' he's told me so ... he aims ter hev ye murder Parish Thornton fer him fust ... an' then ter penitenshery ye fer doin' his dirty work. Ye hain't nothin' on God's green y'arth but only his dupes!"
"This thing lays betwixt me an' you," went on the low-pitched but implacable voice from the bed, "but ef I ever gits up again you're goin' ter wisht ter God in Heaven ... hit war jest only ther penitenshery threatenin' ye." Again Rowlett's anger blazed, and his self-control slipped its leash.
We aims ter make a sample of ye, fer others ter regulate theirselves by, an' I reckon ye're goin' ter sulter in ther penitenshery fer a spell of y'ars." And when County Court day came there rode into town men of both factions, led by Hump Doane and Parish Thornton, and the courtroom benches were crowded with sightseers eager to hear that examining trial.
"Ef they did," he answered, candidly, "I reckon hit would be hangin' or ther penitenshery fer me but they hain't agoin' ter." "I don't seek ter hinder ye none," she told him in a faltering voice, "despite hit's goin' ter nigh kill me ter see ye go. Somehow hit seems like I wouldn't be so skeered ef ye war guilty yoreself ... but ter hev ye risk ther gallers fer somethin' ye didn't nuver do "
"Is thet so, Sim?" inquired Parish with a ready interest. "War hit a sore trouble?" "Hit couldn't skeercely be holped but he's been sulterin' in ther penitenshery down thar at Frankfort fer nigh on ter two y'ars now. Erbout once in a coon's age I fares me down thar ter fotch him tidin's of his folks. Hit pleasures him."
"I'm only askin' ye ter give me yore hand ye won't nuver do hit ergin. We're goin' ter bust up thet crowd an' penitenshery them thet leads 'em. I hate ter hev ye mixed up, when thet comes ter pass. Will ye give me yore hand?"
I'm goin' ter advocate peace as strong es any man kin but I'm goin' ter tell 'em, too, thet ther Harpers kin give 'em unshirted hell ef they disdains peace. I'm goin' ter pledge ourselves ter holp diskiver an' penitenshery ther man thet shot at old Jim Rowlett. Does thet suit ye?"
Ye hain't even drapped a hint thet any time ye takes ther notion ter talk out ter ther High-cote ye kin penitenshery me but thet's jest because ye knows ye don't haf ter. By God, sometimes I think's hit would well-nigh profit me ter layway you an' be shet of ye." The second voice was purring now, with a hint of the claw-power under the softness. "Thet would be a right smart pity, though.
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