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Updated: June 23, 2025
But Whisky Jim graciously broke the silence himself. "Sell nex' week fer six." The young man's mind had already left the subject under discussion, and it took some little effort of recollection to bring it back. "How long will it keep on going up?" he asked. "Tell it teches the top. Come daown then like a spile-driver in a hurry.
"Git 'way f'om me; you'll ketch 'em if you teches me," warned Billy; "an' you too little to have 'em," and he waved an authoritative hand at the other child. But Jimmy's curiosity was aroused to the highest pitch. He promptly jumped the fence and gazed at his chum with critical admiration. "What's the matter," he inquired, "you got the toothache?"
Every fool wants to test his aim, an' you're the brightest thing on the river bank for a mark. "Well, if you'll stay right where you are, it 'ull be a sorry day for any cuss 'at teches you; 'at I'll promise you, Mr. Redbird. This land's mine, an' if you locate on it, you're mine till time to go back to that other old fellow 'at looks like me.
You little white han's gib fancy teches dat ain't in my big black han'. Arter all, tain't de han's; it's de min'. Dere's my darter Mis Watson. Neber could larn her much mo'n plain cookin'. Dere's a knack at dese tings dat's bawn in one. It's wot you granpa used ter call genus, an' you allus hab it, eben when you was a chile an' want ter muss in de kitchen."
"But ef ye seeks ter fo'ce me, or ef ever ergin ye lays a hand on me or teches me, 'twell I tells ye ye kin, afore God in Heaven, one of us has got ter die! An' I won't never be with ye unarmed, nuther." Halloway did not judge it a good time to mention that her allusion to marriage left a rather wide territory of debate open. One thing at a time seemed enough and more than enough.
The old man's lip was quivering, and something very like a tear stood in each eye. "I can't hab nuffin' happen to de fambly, Major. You know our folks is quality, an' always was, an' I dassent look my mistress in de face if anythin' teches Marsa George." Then bending down he said in a hoarse whisper: "See dat old clock out dar wid his eye wide open? Know what's down below dat in de cellar?
Oh, I'll answer fur him" she too had risen; her hand trembled on the back of the chair, but her face was scornfully smiling "he don't mind the money; he'll never git you-uns fined ter pay back the gredge. He don't take his wrath out on folkses' wallets; he grips thar throats, or teches the trigger o' his rifle. Laws-a-massy! takin' out yer gredge that-a-way!
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