Polly Ann thrust her hand, gently, across my eyes. “Davy, ye mustn’t talk,” she said; “that’s a dear.”
Drowsiness seized me. But I resisted.
“You killed him, Polly Ann,” I murmured, “you?”
“Hush,” said Polly Ann.
And I slept again.
CHAPTER II
“The beggars are come to town”
“They was that destitute,” said Tom, “’twas a pity to see ’em.”
“And they be grand folks, ye say?” said Polly Ann.
“Grand folks, I reckon. And helpless as babes on the Wilderness Trail. They had two niggers—his nigger an’ hers—and they was tuckered, too, fer a fact.
“Lawsy!” exclaimed Polly Ann. “Be still, honey!” Taking a piece of corn-pone from the cupboard, she bent over and thrust it between little Peggy’s chubby fingers “Be still, honey, and listen to what your Pa says. Whar did ye find ’em, Tom?”
“’Twas Jim Ray found ’em,” said Tom. “We went up to Crab Orchard, accordin’ to the Colonel’s orders and we was thar three days. Ye ought to hev seen the trash we turned back, Polly Ann! Most of ’em was scared plum’ crazy, and they was fer gittin ’out ’n Kaintuckee at any cost. Some was fer fightin’ their way through us.”
“The skulks!” exclaimed Polly Ann. “They tried to kill ye? What did ye do?”
Tom grinned, his mouth full of bacon.
“Do?” says he; “we shot a couple of ’em in the legs and arms, and bound ‘em up again. They was in a t’arin’ rage. I’m more afeard of a scar’t man,—a real scar’t man—nor a rattler. They cussed us till they was hoarse. Said they’d hev us hung, an’ Clark, too. Said they hed a right to go back to Virginny if they hed a mind.”
“An’ what did ye say?” demanded Polly Ann, pausing in her work, her eyes flashing with resentment. “Did ye tell ’em they was cowards to want to settle lands, and not fight for ’em? Other folks’ lands, too.”
“We didn’t tell ’em nothin’,” said Tom; “jest sent ’em kitin’ back to the stations whar they come from.”
“I reckon they won’t go foolin’ with Clark’s boys again,” said Polly Ann, resuming a vigorous rubbing of the skillet. “Ye was tellin’ me about these fine folks ye fetched home.” She tossed her head in the direction of the open door, and I wondered if the fine folks were outside.
“Oh, ay,” said Tom, “they was comin’ this way, from the Carolinys. Jim Ray went out to look for a deer, and found ’em off ’n the trail. By the etarnal, they was tuckered. He was the wust, Jim said, lyin’ down on a bed of laurels she and the niggers made. She has sperrit, that woman. Jim fed him, and he got up. She wouldn’t eat nothin’, and made Jim put him on his hoss. She walked. I can’t mek out why them aristocrats wants to come to Kaintuckee. They’re a sight too tender.”
“Pore things!” said Polly Ann, compassionately. “So ye fetched ’em home.”