A few miles further on she halted at a
tavern, hoping that by spending the night, morning might bring along a
friendly wagon, going her road; and she waited until the sun was high,
and then set out on foot. But along toward ten o'clock she was overtaken
by a huckster in a cart. She asked him to let her ride and he drew up,
but looked suspiciously at her.
"I asked you to let me ride, if you please. I had to kill my po' mare
'way back yander--broke her leg in a bridge."
"What sort of a mare?"
"Gray--one of the best old nags I ever saw."
"Well, where air you goin'?"
"To Nashville. Will you let me ride?"
"Got business down there, I take it."
"Yes, or I wouldn't want to go."
"I don't know about that. Women folks goes a good many places where they
hain't got no business. Ain't a runnin' away from yo' old man, air you?"
"No, I'm goin' to him."
"Huh, he run away frum you. Is that it?"
"No, they tuck him away. Air you goin' to let me ride?"
"Tuck him away for what?"
"They have accused him of makin' wild-cat licker.
Pages:
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272