THE MARTIANS AND THE COYS
By Mack Reynolds
Lem didn't like guarding the still while
Paw and the boys went feuding. He wanted to get
a shot at some Martins too! Yup, he sure did....
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy
June 1951
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Maw Coy climbed the fence down at the end of the south pasture and
started up the side of the creek, carrying her bundle over her shoulder
and puffing slightly at her exertion.
She forded the creek there at the place where Hank's old coon dog
Jigger was killed by the boar three years ago come next hunting season.
Jumping from rock to rock across the creek made her puff even harder;
Maw Coy wasn't as young as she once was.
On the other side she rested a minute to light up her pipe and to look
carefully about before heading up the draw. She didn't really expect
to see any Martins around here, but you never knew. Besides, there
might've been a revenue agent. They were getting mighty thick and
mighty uppity these days. You'd think the government'd have more to do
than bother honest folks trying to make an honest living.
The pipe lit, Maw swung the bundle back over her shoulder and started
up the draw. Paw and the boys, she reckoned were probably hungry as a
passel of hound dogs by now. She'd have to hurry.
When she entered the far side of the clearing, she couldn't see any
signs of them so she yelled, "You Paw! You Hank and Zeke!" Maw Coy
liked to give the men folks warning before she came up on the still.
Hank, in particular, was mighty quick on the trigger sometimes.
But there wasn't any answer. She trudged across the clearing to where
the still was hidden in a cluster of pines. Nobody was there but Lem.
She let the bundle down and glowered at him. "Lem, you no-account, why
didn't you answer me when I hollered?"
He grinned at her vacuously, not bothering to get up from where he sat
whittling, his back to an old oak. "Huh?" he said. A thin trickle of
brown ran down from the side of his mouth and through the stubble on
his chin.
"I said, how come you didn't answer when I hollered?"
He said, "You called Paw and Hank and Zeke, you didn't holler for me.
What you got there, Maw, huh?" His watery eyes were fixed on the bundle.
* * * * *
Maw Coy sighed deeply and sat down on a tree stump. "Now what you think
I got there, Lem? I been a bringing your vittles to you every day since
Paw and you boys started up this new still. Where's Paw and Zeke and
Hank?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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