“What happened then?--but a body don't need to ask! Looks like the law was all you had on your side!” and the squire glanced waggishly about the room. “I showed Yancy the order--” “You lie, Dave Blount; you didn't!” said Yancy. “But I can't say as it would have made no difference, Squire. He'd have taken his licking just the same and I'd have had my nevvy out of that buggy!” “Didn't he say nothing about this here order from the colt, Bob?” “There wa'n't much conversation, Squire. I invited my nevvy to light down, and then I snaked Dave Blount out over the wheel.” “Who struck the first blow?” “He did. He struck at me with his buggy whip.” “What you got to say to this, Mr. Blount?” asked the squire. “I say I showed him the order like I said,” answered Blount doggedly. Squire Balaam removed his spectacles and leaned back in his chair. “It's the opinion of this here co't that the whole question of assault rests on whether Bob Yancy saw the order. Bob Yancy swears he didn't see it, while Dave Blount swears he showed it to him. If Bob Yancy didn't know of the existence of the order he was clearly actin' on the idea that Blount was stealin' his nevvy, and he done what any one would have done under the circumstances. If, on the other hand, he knowed of this order from the co't, he was not only guilty of assault, but he was guilty of resistin' an officer of the co't.” The squire paused impressively. His audience drew a long breath. The impression prevailed that the case was going against Yancy, and more than one face was turned scowlingly on the fat little justice. “Can a body drap a word here?” It was Uncle Sammy's thin voice that cut into the silence. “Certainly, Uncle Sammy. This here co't will always admire to listen to you.” “Well, I'd like to say that I consider that Fayetteville co't mighty officious with its orders. This part of the county won't take nothin' off Fayetteville! We don't interfere with Fayetteville, and blamed if we'll let Fayetteville interfere with us!” There was a murmur of approval. Scratch Hill remembered the rifles in its hands and took comfort. “The Fayetteville co't air a higher co't than this, Uncle Sammy,” explained the squire indulgently. “I'm aweer of that,” snapped the patriarch. “I've seen hit's steeple.” “Air you finished, Uncle Sammy?” asked the squire deferentially. “I 'low I am. But I 'low that if this here case is goin' agin Bob Yancy I'd recommend him to go home and not listen to no mo' foolishness.” “Mr. Yancy will oblige this co't by setting still while I finish this case,” said the squire with dignity. “As I've already p'inted out, the question of veracity presents itself strongly to the mind of this here colt. Mr. Yancy has sworn to one thing, Mr. Blount to another. Now the Yancys air an old family in these parts; Mr. Blount's folks air strangers, but we don't know nothing agin them--” “And we don't know nothing in their favor,” Uncle Sammy interjected.