In this fellow I saw a confederate of
Gib's, and if I had lost one I had the other. So I marched up to him
and very roundly damned his insolence.
He was a stern, lantern-jawed man of forty or so, dressed very roughly
in leather breeches and a frieze coat. Long grey woollen stockings were
rolled above his knees, and slung on his back was an ancient musket.
"Easy, my lad," he said. "It's a free country, and there's no statute
against mirth."
"I'll have you before the sheriff," I cried. "You tripped me up when I
was on the track of the biggest rogue in America."
"So!" said he, mocking me. "You'll be a good judge of rogues. Was it a
runaway redemptioner, maybe? You'd be looking for the twenty hogsheads
reward."
This was more than I could stand. I was carrying a pistol in my hand,
and I stuck it to his ear. "March, my friend," I said. "You'll walk
before me to a Justice of the Peace, and explain your doings this
night."
I had never threatened a man with a deadly weapon before, and I was to
learn a most unforgettable lesson. A hand shot out, caught my wrist,
and forced it upwards in a grip of steel. And when I would have used my
right fist in his face another hand seized that, and my arms were
padlocked.
Pages:
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79