Part 29 (1/2)

”Don't forget those fruit trees, Tom.”

While Diana was finis.h.i.+ng her first year, Tom's prosperity became too much for him. He had kept his eyes on the plump Wyandotte pullets at the Ellis Dairy, the same place that had lost a prized possum dog six months before. There was an eight-foot fence, with two feet of barbed wire at the top; and he knew that the Ellis boys had guns, and used them. But the chicken runs were behind the cow barns, and thus hidden from the house; and he had discovered an opening under the rear of the fence, where a mere trickle remained of the roystering April freshet. This gap was protected only by stakes angled inward from within the fence; and the moist ground allowed the central three to be worked up with ease.

He chose a May night, moonless and peaceful. It was almost one o'clock when he made his wet way under the fence, and followed the chicken-wire to the roosts. His fumbling fingers found the staple which held the lock chain. He pulled his hammer out of one of the ”croker sacks,” inserted the claw and pulled. It was hard in starting, then came easily; only the last pull resulted in a subdued and nerve-wracking screech as the metal curved out of the hard wood. He let the heated staple down quietly, and opened the door. The hens kept up a sleepy clutter; now was the time to use all his skill and tact.

He moved his hand from the wall along the pole, until it collided with the first warm feathers. His mind wandered to a memory of a night when he had seen an owl steal one of Mr. Judson's prized game hens. The thief had settled on a tree limb occupied by the hen, and gradually commenced shoving. The hen sleepily gave way. As she came to the end of the lopped-off limb, she had fallen, and the bird of prey had caught her before she reached the ground. Then Tom had fired.... Good thing n.o.body was watching him!

There was a smothered gurgle as his fingers closed around the neck.

Deftly he twisted the head until the bones gave, then slipped it into the bag. Another, and another--the fowls had increased their drowsy disturbance, but were not yet alarmed.

He got two more, then decided that he had enough. No need to be a hog about it.

He started back for the door; his knee hit a feeding trough with a sudden crack. The noise was not great; but at the same moment a voice rang out, ”Come out, n.i.g.g.e.r, I've got the door covered. Come out, or I'll shoot h.e.l.l out of you.”

Lordie, lordie! No use lying low; there was no other door to the henhouse, and if he waited until morning, he was caught sure.

”All right, suh, Ah's comin'.”

He slid open the door a trifle; the light of a lantern lit on the ground cut its way in. ”No tricks, now. Drop whatever you've got, and come out with your hands in the air--or I'll blow your head off.”

”Ah ain't doin' no tricks, boss. Doan' shoot, for de Lawd's sake!”

”Come on, or----” came another voice.

He slid fearfully out, his arms raised. He stood blinking in the sudden s.h.i.+ne.

From his left two figures closed in, shotguns half raised. ”Just one old n.i.g.g.e.r, Ned; we'll phone the constable and turn him over.”

”Lawdie, lawdie! Doan' give me to no constable; Ah ain't done nuthin!”

”How many chickens did you get, you black----”

Tom spoke volubly. ”Ah thought dis was Mr. Joneses' roos', cap'n, an' he said Ah could come in some night an'----”

”Why, I know that n.i.g.g.e.r. Didn't you bring in Mr. Judson's Jersey last month for service?”

”Yessuh, dat Ah did. Ah's a minister of de gospel, an' ef Ah's made a little mistake to-night, Ah'll swear ter Gawd never to----”

”Bring him along.”

”Lawd, boss, doan' send me to jail. Dey'll give me five years. Let me go dis time.... Ah won't never----”

”Come on----”

”Ah's a minister of de gospel, suh, an' ef Ah's arrested, what will mah flock think? Ef you lets me go----”

”How many hens did you get?”

'Fo', suh; fo' or five.”