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Updated: June 29, 2025
"Bad roads?" I exclaimed. "What the " "Jest thisaway: From hyar to the railroad is seventeen miles, with two mountains to cross; and you've seed that road! I recollect you-uns said every one o' them miles was a thousand rods long. Nobody's ever measured them, except by mountain man's foot-rule big feet, and a long stride between 'em.
"Quick on the shoot?" the big trader wanted to know. "No, it ain't that. They don't hardly ever draw a gun. They jest walk in kinda quiet an' easy, an' tell you it'll be thisaway. And tha's the way it is every crack outa the box." "Hmp!" West exuded boastful incredulity. "I reckon they haven't bumped into any one man-size yet."
Beneath this woolly lambrequin his eyes were visible as two garnet sparks of which the coloured woman was only too nervously aware. She gasped. "Look-a-here, dog, who's went an' ast you to take an' pray fer 'em?" He remained motionless and devout. "My goo'niss!" she said to him. "If you goin' keep on thisaway whut you is been, I'm goin' to up an' go way from here, ri' now!"
"Hit's a right qu'ar an' insolent thing fer ye ter do," she finally observed, "comin' over hyar thisaway, on ther very eve of Ken Thornton's trial." "I've got ter see Will," echoed the strained voice by the hearth, as though those words were the only ones she knew. "I've got ter see Will."
"It's near night," Rasba remarked, looking at the sun through the trees. "I'm a stranger down thisaway; mout I get to stay theh?" "Yo' can land anywhere's," the man said. "No man can stop you all!" "But a woman mout!" Rasba exclaimed, with sudden humour. "Yistehd'y evenin', up yonway, by the Ohio River, I found a man shot through into his shanty-boat.
This we may certainly do provided you will stay with us, instead of going back and giving yourself up a prisoner, again, as you now seem determined on." "That Hurry Harry should talk in thisaway, is nat'ral, and according to the gifts of the man.
And I couldn't talk to you in Farewell without him and his friends finding it out. That's why I borrowed one of Mike Flynn's hosses an' followed you thisaway so's we could be private. Le's ride along. I expect you was going somewhere." They rode southward side by side a space of time in silence. Racey had nothing to say.
But if yuh ain't plumb sick and disgusted with the spectacle I've made uh myself, yuh can count on me till hell's a skating-rink. I ain't always thisaway. I do have spells when I'm some lucid." It was not much, but such as it was it stood for his oath of allegiance.
"I figure," said Racey, "that they'd hatched that forgery some while before Dale was killed. The killing made it easier to put it on record." "Looks that way," nodded the Judge. "Lookit here," boomed Jack Harpe, "you ain't got any right to judge us thisaway. We ain't on trial." "Shore you ain't," asserted the Judge. "I always said you wasn't. This here is just a talk, a friendly talk.
"Two ladies is mostly safe down thisaway." "My name's Nelia Crele. We used to live up by Gage, on the Bottoms " "Sho! Co'se I know Ole Jim Crele, an' his woman. My name's Mrs. Tons. We stopped in thah 'bout six weeks ago. I hearn say yo'd yo'd married right well!" "Umph!" Nelia shrugged her shoulders, "Liquor spoils many a home!"
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