Here's this
mine of ours. And right here I mean to build a big mill and work out my
plans. I think you know that I hope to marry a mountain wife, and I
can't afford to quarrel with those folks."
Uncle Pros's chin dropped to his breast, his eyes half closed as he sat
thinking intently.
"Well," he said finally, "they won't have nothing worse than
manslaughter against Shade. It can't be proved that he intended to shoot
Pap--'cause he didn't. If he was shootin' after us--there's the thing we
don't want to bring up. You was down in the bottom of the cyar, an' I
had my back to him, and so did Johnnie, and we don't know anything about
what was done--ain't that so? As for you, you've already told Mr.
Hardwick and the others that you was taken prisoner and detained by
parties unknown. Johnnie an' me was gettin' you out of the springhouse
and away in the machine. Then Gid and Shade comes up, and thinkin' we're
the other crowd stealin' the machine--they try to catch us and turn
loose at us--that makes a pretty good story, don't it?"
"It does if Dawson and Groner and Venters agree to it," Stoddard
laughed. "But somebody will have to communicate with them before they
tell another one--or several others."
"I'll see to that, Gray," Pros said, rising and preparing to go. "Boy,"
he looked down fondly at the younger man, and set a brown right hand on
his shoulder, "you never done a wiser thing nor a kinder in your life,
than when you forgave your enemies that time, I'll bet you could ride
the Unakas from end to end, the balance o' your days, the safest man
that ever travelled their trails.
Pages:
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369