Hah, I was jest a thinkin'
when Spencer had the fight at Pettigrew's mill. Them Sarver boys--ez
triflin' a lot ez ever lived--had him down when I rid up on a hoss. An'
the fust thing they know'd I stobbed one of 'em between the shoulder
blades--an' they thought he never would git well."
"An' they killed Spencer right there," said Margaret.
"That's true enough, but they'd a killed him quicker if I hadn't got
there. Ah, laws a massy, the meanness of this world. An' what did they
try to do with me? Hauled me up befo' cou't, an' thar I went with little
Laz in my arms, an' they tried me fur--'sault, I think them fetch-taked
lawyers called it. An' I says 'salt or sugar, I'm here, an' what air you
goin' to do about it?' They fotch money again' me, an' the lawyers they
jawed an' they palarvered; an' finally I got a chance to speak to that
weak-kneed jedge, I did, an' I says, 'Look here, I've a longer knife,
an' if you tell this jury to convict me, I'll put about a foot an' a
half of it under yo' rusty ribs.' An' you better believe he smiled on
me.
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