by A. Stone
CHAPTER VII
The comfort and safety of a Southern man's guests comes before hisown. They are a part of him and more, and with grace he acknowledgesit. Even the Cracker makes you feel instantly what is in his heart.What indignity, what insults, what injury had been visited upon HowardByng's guests by these outlaws when they took the boat was a mattersure of a reckoning. Without my restraint I am certain he would haveshot down each renegade without compunction.
When they vacated the boat and furtively searched for hostile signs Iwarned him again. Howard was right, the two older men made a"bee-line" for the demolished still, rolled a stump, lifted a rock andeagerly drank from the hidden jug. The younger one stood amid thewreck cursing the law. He brushed the jug aside, when offered him, andwent down into the crater blasted out by my dynamite. He was joined bythe older men, evidently planning night covering from the wreck, forthe weather began to threaten in the east.
Byng's eyes glowed when I nervously touched the wires to the battery,exploding the planted charge. Dirt and debris shot high in the air ashe ran swiftly to the spot where our outlaws were safely buried forthe time being.
We dug them out one at a time and secured their hands and feet. Theywere not hurt, just surface cuts, that bled. Howard worked with therapidity and fierceness of a demon. I could see he had worked out aplan. Then the two old men begged for whiskey.
"Give it to them; they'll be easier to handle," I suggested.
He gave each the jug and while they drank glared at the younger man,the leader. He looked at the threatening clouds. It would soon bedark. He sat down where he could see the young leader's face, whosewolfish eyes were balls of animal fire. Howard Byng was the GeorgiaCracker again, grim, determined and terrible.
"Eph Bradshaw," he began, with set jaw, "I know you. I never tried tohurt you. I knew you was moonshinin' here but let you alone. You hevhurt me and you hev got ter pay. Them wimmen you put outen that boatwere my wimmen. Decent moonshiners nevah hurt wimmen. What did you dowith 'em?" he asked, suppressed, but now actually a savage.
Bradshaw looked at the eighteen-inch steel rod I had put between hismanacled hands and feet instead of a chain. Finally compelled byByng's savage sense of injury, he blurted, "They hev our boat; we onlytuk ut."
"What did you do with the wimmen?"
Bradshaw's eyes burned fiercer.
"Eph Bradshaw," began Byng, getting up, "if you don't tell what youdone with them wimmen, my wimmen, I'll cut yer tongue out and feedyour carcass to the dogs and buzzards."
The moonshiner believed that I would protect him as my prisoner. Icould not possibly have saved him from Howard Byng, maddened byapprehension that his women folk had been injured or worse. Everycorpuscle in his swarthy, rugged body was aflame, his face fiendishlyilluminated.
With terrible determination, he took out a hunting knife, opened anddropped it within reach, threw the manacled moonshiner on his back,placed his boot on his neck, then, with his pistol barrel he pried hismouth open, deftly pulling out the outlaw's tongue. Dropping pistolfor knife he pressed the keen edge against it and hissed, "Now willyer tell?"
Although savage and game, the moonshiner gave in.
Whatever can be said against appealing to Judge Lynch in the South orelsewhere, one thing stands out on close analysis--that this court isseldom appealed to except for one thing. Womenfolk are sacred and theleast disrespect, or violation of their rights, is sufficient causefor the summary taking of life.
Bradshaw knew with whom he had to deal and that Byng would not waitlong for his answer. A few seconds and his life would go out forever.
"We just put 'em out," he panted, as soon as he came erect and hadregained his breath.
"Where did you put 'em out?" shouted the fiercely burning Howard Byng.
"On the island. We didn't hurt 'em."
"What did you do to the man with 'em?"
Bradshaw lapsed again into sullenness until Byng moved toward himmenacingly.
"We threw him in the river because he fit us fur the boat. It's ourboat."
"You put two lone wimmen on Alligator Island and not a house fur tenmiles, and threw the man in the river 'cause he wanted to take care of'em?" Byng paused, that he might resist the vengeance that surgedwithin him.
"Eph Bradshaw," said he, solemnly, "I'm going to look fur them wimmen,an' if a hair on their heads is hurt, I'll have yer heart. I'll smashyer skull like I would a snake." The moonshiner shrunk back andshivered.
Byng walked down to the boats. The tide had left them on the mud. Hethen gazed at the clouding sky as he returned to me.
"I'm goin' to get them wimmen. I wouldn't stay on Alligator Island anight like this for half of Georgia. A rain is cumin' from thenortheast and it'll be nasty. You'll have the tide after midnight tolet you out with these fellers. You can bring 'em, can't you?"
"Either dead or alive," I replied.
Byng went back to the boats, and tied the oars inside the skiff. Then,as though the boat was a cockleshell, he picked it up from the mud,letting the center seat rest on his shoulders, and started, rifle inhand, down through high swamp grass toward the river, three milesaway.
"You'll find me along this side of the island somewhere when the tidebrings you there," he called back out of the darkness.
I moved my manacled moonshiner to the highest part near their lookoutstump, chained the two together, and began a watch that would end witha flood tide, eight or ten hours later. I knew what a northeast rainwas like in Georgia--bad lightning and thunder. What would become ofMrs. Potter, little more than a girl with no knowledge of woods, andthe frail, nervous Norma, who had been so carefully and lovinglyshielded by doting parents. Then I thought of the grief and distressof her mother and father awaiting their return, with neither Byng normyself there to offer advice and consolation.
I hoped devoutly Byng would find the girls and get them home beforeany serious shock should result from their exposure. Then I blamedmyself for allowing the Purdues to use the moonshiners' boat.
Nothing happened before the flood tide when I got my prisoners intheir boat and started. The storm was bad, the rain came in sheets. Igot alongside the island about three in the morning, when the stormabated somewhat. Hugging the shore closely I found Howard's skiff. Ittold me the whole story. He had been unsuccessful, those girls hadbeen on the island all night exposed to that fearful storm withoutshelter, and possibly worse.
I ran in beside the skiff, stopped my motor and listened. I heardnothing but owls that seemed to have a voice in the deadly stillnesslike human beings in sore distress. I examined the skiff again. It wasempty with the exception of the oars. I shouted time and again at thetop of my voice, only to be answered by spectral owls. I could notleave my prisoners, so had to await for daybreak, at the first sign ofwhich I took them ashore and chained them to a tree.
I then removed my boots to pour the water out, as they had been fullsince it began to rain. The prisoners begged for moonshine. Theylooked pitiful enough, wet to the skin, dirty and bloody. I gave themsome, then filled a flask and started. The island was not wide and Iwent to the lower end and back, shouting repeatedly, without results.
When I did find them at the extreme upper end, Howard Byng presented asorry spectacle, this wild Cracker man, with eyes bloodshot, clothedonly with pants and shirt, for he had given the girls everything else.He had found them in the night, completely prostrated. Mrs. Potter wasparalyzed with fear and could only moan, Norma was shocked intohysterics, lying with her head on Mrs. Potter's lap. They were inwhite summer attire and their soaked clothes clung to their bodies.
At the sight of me and daylight and several swallows of moonshine,Mrs. Potter revived enough to give serious attention to Norma, now insort of a deathlike coma. By vigorous rubbing and finally a stimulant,she revived. Howard carried her in his arms, talking to her as hewould a child, telling her she would "soon be home to mamma," while Isteadied Mrs. Potter toward the boat, a half mile away. Until Normawas delivered safely home she was his woman.<
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At sight of the prisoners Mrs. Potter clung to me and groaned. Howardheard and tried to keep Norma from seeing them, but did not succeed.Her scream would have pierced any man's heart.
Mrs. Potter realized her sister's danger, braced herself, but wasunable to do much more than wring her hands, moan and caress the younggirl. It was an unpleasant experience, and I never want to go throughit again. I know how to handle men, but drenched, starved, hystericalwomen were a sorry puzzle to me, to say nothing of the three prisonersupon whose delivery my reputation was staked.
Howard's problem was greater--he still held in his arms a slight,nervous child, less than fifteen, paralyzed with fear and exposure,who had again lapsed into a state of coma with attendant convulsionscaused by the sight of the authors of her sad plight.
I was not wrong when I anticipated a scene upon our arriving home. Imay have been rude to Mrs. Purdue, when she indignantly and weepinglydemanded an explanation. I told her there was not a doctor withintwenty miles and she had better take care of her children first, andask for explanations later. Byng did not get off so well. The "Purdueman" finally came in with a bad bump on his head, and a storycalculated to excuse his desertion. He had been hit with an oar, forwhich I felt glad, for I saw cowardice in his face, and I always didhate a deserter.
By the time I got my men in the hands of a marshal, and on the way toAtlanta, matters had straightened out. Mamma and Papa Purdue werequite normal again. Then it was that I thought I detected a subtlechange in the atmosphere.
