"
The old man stood looking through the window, at Peters as he ambled
along the road, and turning away he muttered, "Shot fo' an' stobbed
three," his mind flying back to the story paper.
Mrs. Mayfield, followed by Jim, came in from the kitchen, remarking, "we
have been helping your wife but she has expelled us."
"I don't reckon thar was very much help needed." He waited until she had
sat down, and then coming slowly toward her he inquired: "Ma'm, air all
the deputy marshals in the state under yo' brother, the Jedge?"
"All in this district, I should think, are under the jurisdiction of his
court."
"I reckon the Jedge is putty hard on folks that makes what they call
wild-cat liquor."
"Extremely so, Mr. Starbuck. He sends them all to the penitentiary."
"I don't reckon he knows that a man may make liquor and yit have some
little jestice on his side."
"My brother can see no justice in a violation of the law."
The old man was silent for a few moments and then he asked: "Do he have
the app'intment of the deputy marshals?"
"I don't know as to that.
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