"
Westerfelt got down from his horse. "I'm completely in your power," he
replied. "I won't beg any man nor gang of men living to give me my
rights. I suppose I am accused of having reported those fellows to the
revenue men. I have simply to say that it is a lie!"
"Uh, uh!" said the leader; "_care_ful! _care_ful! Don't be reckless.
We uns ain't the lyin' sort."
"I say it's a lie!" Westerfelt stared straight into the mask of Toot
Wambush. The wearer of it started and half raised his revolver, but
quickly concealed it under the sheet that hung below his waist.
Everybody was silent, as if they expected a reply from Wambush, but he
made none.
"Them pore Cohutta men lyin' in the Atlanta jail said so, anyway,"
returned the leader. "They ain't heer to speak fer the'rse'ves; it's a
easy thing to give them the lie behind the'r backs."
"They were mistaken, that's all," said Westerfelt. "Nobody but the
revenue men themselves could tell the whole truth about it. I did pass
the wagon--"
"An' eavedropped on our two men. Oh, we know you did, kase they heerd
a sound, an' then as you didn't come for'ard, they 'lowed they had made
a mistake, but when you finally did pass they knowed it wus you, an'
that you'd been listenin'.
Pages:
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181