"Hit wouldn't have happened if there'd been a man on the Hill,
but there was nothing but a passel of women about the place. I
heard the boys crying when Dave Blount lifted your nevvy into the
buggy," said Uncle Sammy; "all I could do was to cuss him across
two fields. I hope you blow his hide full of holes!" for a rifle
had been placed in Yancy's hands.
"Thank you-all kindly," said Yancy, and turning away he struck
off through the pine woods. A brisk walk of twenty minutes
brought him to the Ox Road forks, as it was called, where he
could plainly distinguish the wheel and hoof marks left by the
buggy and team as it went to Scratch Hill, but there was only the
single track.
This important point being settled, sense of sweet peace stole in
upon Yancy's spirit. He stood his rifle against a tree, lit his
pipe with flint and steel, and rested comfortably by the wayside.
He had not long to wait, for presently the buggy hove in sight;
whereupon he coolly knocked the ashes from his pipe, pocketed it,
and prepared for action. As the buggy came nearer he recognized
his ancient enemy in the person of the man who sat at Hannibal's
side, and stepping nimbly into the road seized the horses by
their bits. At sight of him Hannibal shrieked his name in an
ecstasy of delight.
"Uncle Bob--Uncle Bob--" he, cried.
"Yes, it's Uncle Bob. You can light down, Nevvy. I reckon
you've rid far enough," said Yancy pleasantly.
"Leggo them horses!" said Mr.
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