I thought you'd be glad to know."
Smilingly Carrington folded the warrant and handed it to Yancy.
"Well, what are you goin' to do about hit, Bob?" inquired Balaam.
"Maybe I'd ought to go. I'd like to oblige the squire," said
Yancy.
"When does this here co't set?" demanded Uncle Sammy.
"Hit don't do much else since he's took with the lumbago,"
answered Balaam somewhat obscurely.
"How are the squire, Charley?" asked Yancy with grave concern.
"Only just tolerable, Bob."
"What did he tell you to do?" and Yancy knit his brows.
"Seems like he wanted me to find out what you'd do. He
recommended I shouldn't use no violence."
"I wouldn't recommend you did, either," assented Yancy, but
without heat.
"I'd get shut of this here law business, Bob," advised Uncle
Sammy.
"Suppose I come to the Cross Roads this evening?"
"That's agreeable," said the deputy, who presently departed in
company with Carrington.
Some hours later the male population of Scratch Hill, with a
gravity befitting the occasion, prepared itself to descend on the
Cross Roads and give its support to Mr. Yancy in his hour of
need. To this end those respectable householders armed
themselves, with the idea that it might perhaps be necessary to
correct some miscarriage of justice. They were shy enough and
timid enough, these remote dwellers in the pine woods, but, like
all wild things, when they felt they were cornered they were
prone to fight; and in this instance it was clearly iniquitous
that Bob Yancy's right to smack Dave Blount should be questioned.
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