Mountain people -- North Carolina -- Fiction; North Carolina -- Fiction
"We all think so until justice pinches us," he replied, placing himself
in firm opposition to me, yet doing it kindly. "I am more concerned in
this, Mr. Hawes, than you can well conceive. I can say this, but I
cannot follow it up with an explanation. But the fact that he stood
waiting there in the road is what will tell most against him. Had he met
him at another time, under almost any other conditions, it would have
been different, would have taken away the aspect of calculated murder.
Yes, I am deeply concerned and on two accounts. But I cannot mention
them. Dan Stuart was near to me; I had known him all his life and he was
a young man of promise, was popular throughout the community--more
popular than Alf, and this will have its effect."
"But wasn't he more popular because he had more money?" I asked, and the
old General gave me a look of reproof.
"Money does not make so much difference in the South, sir. You have been
filling your head with Northern books. It is refinement, sir, real worth
that weighs in the South."
"I hope not to antagonize you, General, but I am of the South and I have
cause to hold an opposite opinion. Have I not seen the most vulgar of
men held in high favor because they were rich? The mere existence of a
state line does not change human nature. Man is not changed even by the
lines drawn about empires."
"I admit, sir, that the South has undergone a change, but in my day a
man was measured according to his real worth, not in gold, but in
honorable qualities."
"It is but natural to look back with the prejudiced eye of affection,
General, and it is respectful that I should not argue with you. I turn
here to the livery-stable. Good-morning."
"I honor you for your consideration, sir," he replied, bowing. "Let us
hope for the best, but I must stand by justice."
When I had put up my horse I went directly to the jail. A crowd hung
about the doors, eager to see the prisoner. When I told the jailer who I
was he admitted me without a word. Alf sprang from a bench, seeing me
enter the corridor, and came forward to the bars of his cell.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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