"Oh, yes!" exclaimed Jesse Tidwell, "that was Amy Rowland. If she wasn't
the belle of the ball, I'll never want any more money in this world.
It's no use for Gabriel to blow his horn, when he has all the girls in
that part of the country to blow it for him. My son, when and where did
you come to know all these young ladies?"
"Why, I used to go out there to church with Mr. Sanders, and sometimes
with Mrs. Absalom. There are some fine people in that settlement."
"Fine!" exclaimed Jesse Tidwell, with real enthusiasm; "why, split silk
is as coarse as gunny-bagging by the side of those girls. I told 'em I
was coming back. 'You must!' they declared, 'and be sure and bring Mr.
Tolliver!'" Young Tidwell mimicked a girl's voice with such ridiculous
completeness that his companions shouted with laughter. "There's another
thing you missed, Tolliver," he went on. "Feel Samples has a cow that
gives apple-brandy, and old Burrel Bohannon, the one-legged fiddler,
must have milked her dry, for along about half-past ten he kind of
rolled his eyes, and fetched a gasp, and wobbled out of his chair, and
lay on the floor just as if he was stone dead."
In a short time the young men had reached the tavern, where the team and
vehicle belonged. As they drew up in front of the door, Jesse Tidwell,
continuing and completing his description of the condition of Burrel
Bohannon, exclaimed: "Yes, sir, he fell and lay there. He may have
kicked a time or two, and I think he mumbled something, but he was as
good as dead."
Bridalbin, restless and uneasy, had been wandering about the town, and
he came up just in time to hear this last remark. At that moment, a
negro issued from the tavern with a lantern, and Bridalbin was not at
all surprised to see Gabriel Tolliver with the rest; and he wondered
what mischief the young men had been engaged in. Some one had been badly
hurt or killed. That much he could gather from Tidwell's declaration;
but who?
He went to his lodging and to bed in a very uncomfortable frame of
mind.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
_The Fate of Mr. Hotchkiss_
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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