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Updated: June 23, 2025
"This hyar Malviny Hixon ez lived down in Tanglefoot Cove then her an' Hil'ry war promised ter marry, but the revenuers captured him he war a-runnin' a still in Tanglefoot then an' they kep' him in jail somewhar in the North fur five year.
The thought then flashed into his mind of the dreadful contents of his old game-sack. "Th' bomb," he said. "Th' dynamighty bomb that I was savin' for th' revenuers! Let that finish out th' man as set 'em onto me!"
She put her hand upon his arm, turning her sweet face up to him with a revelation of solicitude which, had she known how plain it was, she would have hidden at all hazard. "It may mean life or death to you," she told him solemnly. "Life or death to me, little girl? What are you talking of?" said he, almost incredulous. "Joe Lorey's still were raided by the revenuers after you come down!"
Now sly cunning dominated it, with, possibly, a touch left of the early fear to flavor it. "I bet a hundred revenuers in these mountains have looked for that there still," he thought, "an' no one ever found it, yet. Forty years it's been thar through three generations o' th' Loreys damn 'em! an' no one's ever squealed on 'em. I ... wonder...."
He loved her with the fierce love of the primitive man; his rising wrath against the circumstances amidst which he seemed to be so powerless had made him sullen and suspicious; mountain life, continual defiance of the law, unceasing watchfulness for "revenuers," does not teach a man to be smooth-mannered, half-way in his methods.
Before Dawson lay a large, round bundle. A smaller one lay at the feet of one of the other men. "Now, then," spoke Dawson, "ready and quick is the word. I've divided it up fair, and you'll find your share in that bundle. You three had better get it and yourselves to some safe place." "Yes," spoke one of the men, "the revenuers will surely be here soon."
I want to see th' gal as lives up yander. Want to buy her land of her." Lorey, satisfied by this explanation that the stranger was not a government agent, as he had, at first suspected, relaxed his tense rigidity of muscles. From fear of revenuers his disturbed mind returned quickly to the bitterness of his resentment of what he thought Madge Brierly's infatuation for the young lowlander.
That the "revenuers," soon or late, would get it, now that their allies were building steel highways to swarm on, was inevitable. His heart beat fast with a new anger, anticipatory of their coming to his fastness.
All the rocks had a thought for the stranger, close to his heart and quick on his tongue, and as Hite, half skeptical, half beguiled, listened, his suspicion of the man as a "revenuer" began to fade. "The revenuers ain't up ter no sech l'arnin' ez this," he said to himself, with a vicarious pride.
Supposin' they air revenuers fur true, an' hed somebody along, hid out in the bresh, ez war acquainted with me by sight " "Then they'd hev been skeered out'n thar boots, that's all," interrupted the self-sufficient 'Gene. "They would hev 'lowed they hed viewed yer brazen ghost, bold ez brass, standin' at the head of yer own coffin-box."
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