Part 11 (2/2)
The town had outgrown its first indignant surprise over the invasion of the ”mountain army,” and the senator from Kenton had pa.s.sed boldly through its unordered ranks, as need suggested. The hill men had fallen sullenly back and made a path for his going.
This morning he walked with a close friend, who had const.i.tuted himself a bodyguard of one. The upper house was to meet at ten, and it was five minutes short of the hour when the man, with preoccupied and resolute features, swung through the gate of the state house grounds. The way lay from there around the fountain to the door set within the columned portico.
In circling the fountain, the companion dropped a s.p.a.ce to the rear and glanced about him with a hasty scrutiny, and as he did so a sharp report ripped the quietness of the place, speedily followed by the more m.u.f.fled sound of pistol shots.
The gentleman in the rear froze in his tracks, glancing this way and that in a bewildered effort to locate the sound. The senator halted too, but after a moment he wavered a little, lifted one hand with a gesture rather of weariness than of pain, and, buckling at the knees, sagged down slowly until he lay on the flag-stoned walk, with one hand pressed to the bosom of his b.u.t.toned overcoat.
Figures were already running up from here and there. As the dismayed friend locked his arms under the p.r.o.ne shoulders, he heard words faintly enunciated--not dramatically declaimed, but in strangely matter-of-fact tone and measure--”I guess they've--got me.”
Boone Wellver saw a throng of tight-wedged humanity pressing along with eyes turned inward toward some core of excited interest, and heard the words that ran everywhere, ”Goebel has been shot!”
He felt a sudden nausea as he followed the crowd at whose centre was borne a helpless body, until it jammed about the door of a doctor's office, and after that, for a long while, he wandered absently over the town.
Turning the corner of an empty side street in the late afternoon he came face to face with Asa Gregory, and his perplexed unrest gave way to comfort.
Asa was tranquilly studying a theatrical poster displayed on a wall. His face was composed and lit with a smile of quiet amus.e.m.e.nt, but before Boone reached his side, or accosted him, another figure rounded the corner, walking with agitated haste, and the boy ducked hastily back, recognizing Saul Fulton, who might tax him with truancy.
Yet when he saw Saul's almost insanely excited gaze meet Asa's quiet eyes, curiosity overcame caution and he came boldly forward.
”Ye'd better not tarry in town over-long, Asa,” Saul was advising in the high voice of alarm. ”I'm dismayed ter find ye hyar now.”
”Why be ye?” demanded Asa, and his unruffled utterance was velvet smooth. ”Hain't I got a license ter go wharsoever hit pleasures me?”
”This hain't no safe time ner place fer us mountain fellers,” came the anxiety-freighted reply. ”An' you've done been writ up too much in ther newspapers a'ready. You've got a lawless repute, an' atter this mornin'
Frankfort-town hain't no safe place fer ye.”
”I come down hyar,” announced Asa, still with an imperturbable suavity, ”ter try an' git me a pardon. I hain't got hit yit an' tharfore I hain't ready ter turn away.”
Gregory began a deliberate ransacking of his pockets, in search of his tobacco plug, and in doing so he hauled out miscellaneous odds and ends before he found what he was seeking.
In his hands materialized a corn-cob pipe, some loose coins and matches, and then--as Saul's voice broke into frightened exclamation--several rifle and pistol cartridges.
”Good G.o.d, man,” exploded the other mountaineer, ”ain't ye got no more common sense than ter be totin' them things 'round in this town--terday?”
Asa raised his brows, and smiled indulgently upon his kinsman. ”Why, ginrally, I've got a few ca'tridges and pistol hulls in my pockets,” he drawled. ”Why shouldn't I?”
”Well, git rid of 'em, an' be speedy about it! Don't ye know full well thet every mountain man in town's goin' ter be suspicioned, an' thet ther legislater'll vote more money than ye ever dreamed of to stretch mountain necks? Give them things ter the boy, thar.”
Fulton had not had time to feel surprise at seeing Boone, whom he had left on the farm, confronting him here on the sidewalk of a Frankfort street. Now as the boy reached up his hand and Asa carelessly dropped the cartridges into it, Saul rushed vehemently on.
”Boone, don't make no mention of this hyar talk ter n.o.body. Take yore foot in yore hand an' light out fer my house--an' ther fust spring-branch ye comes ter, stop an' fling them d.a.m.n things into ther water.”
<script>