CHAPTER VII.
Court day brought ever a large and motley crowd to town.
It is the farmer's levee, his monthly holiday--a proper time forfriendly intercourse and barter. Usually busied in the field or aboutthe farm, he sees little of the social or business world except throughthe medium of county court day.
On such occasions most of the tillers of the soil quit work and come infrom the surrounding country and the neighboring hills--even fromfurther outlying villages and adjacent counties. Some come on business,some on pleasure bent, but whether for recreation or profit, a goodlycrowd convenes, the day in itself an all-sufficient excuse for the act.
A Kentucky court day possesses a marked social feature peculiarly itsown. The men meet friends and neighbors in a social mood; renewacquaintances of long standing, and enjoy making new ones; theyexchange political opinions, disseminate local news, trade, swap, buy orsell; the women come to town, exchange country produce for shoppingbargains, and learn something of the prevailing mode from their morestylish sisters who are in closer touch with the outer world.
Occasionally it comes to pass that personal grievances and feuds of longstanding, or even family differences, are settled by a court dayencounter, wherein the all-too-ready knife or pistol helps to play thetragic part; but oftener a spirit of good-fellowship prevails, and thesocial glass binds friendly neighbors into boon companions.
There is yet a more God-fearing element--the bone and sinew of pioneerstrength and hardy manhood, men of simple faith, who walk sedately inthe paths of sobriety and peace, whose lives are as quiet and gentle asthe folk who once "dwelt in the basin of Minas." And in all, it is astrangely mixed gathering of good and evil--a Kentucky court day.
A larger crowd than usual was in town on this particular Octobermorning. Most of the crops had been laid by, and even the more carefulhusbandmen felt as if they might safely indulge in a holiday withoutdisquieting thoughts of work done and duties neglected; but there wereother reasons yet to account for the large attendance on this day.
An undercurrent of suppressed excitement was manifest throughout thecommunity, for the recent toll-gate raids, and the rumored threatsagainst gates still standing in the county, made the question of freeroads an all-absorbing topic.
The greater number of farmers were in favor of no toll, as was naturallythe case, though some suggested a new and lower scale of rates, whilethe more conservative looked with apprehension on the spirit oflawlessness that seemed suddenly to flame into a passion that might growalarmingly akin to anarchy, if the destructive tendency were leftunchecked.
These more prudent, law-abiding men counseled patience and forbearanceuntil the voice of the people should decide the question of free roadsat the next election, and the slow-moving machinery of legislation giveby purchase the right of travel without the payment of toll, which manycried out against as an unjust and excessive tariff.
A discordant note had for a long time prevailed among these dwellers ofthe hills in opposition to the turnpike corporations, and thisantagonistic spirit had intensified and spread, slowly leavening thedisquiet, until it had become dangerously like a hot-bed of communism,only waiting for a daring hand to stir it into flame and action, and nowthis had finally come to pass.
The recent bold work of the raiders was guardedly discussed in public,for one did not always know but that a partisan to the cause might bethe listener. A few non-partisans who had been overbold in theirdenunciation of the raiders' methods of acquiring free roads, hadreceived anonymous letters warning them to silence, while a crudedrawing of hangman's noose, or skull and crossbones lent significantweight to the message.
Since the burning of the Cross Roads gate, the county court had offereda reward of two hundred dollars for information that would lead to theapprehension and capture of any of the raiders, while numerous rumorswere afloat concerning them. It was hinted that Maggie O'Flynn hadrecognized two or three members of the band the night of the attack onthe gate, and that several arrests would soon follow.
Men from adjacent counties brought the news of toll-gates raided neartheir homes. The infection was rapidly spreading, and it seemed that thefiat had gone forth dooming the collecting of tolls, and forecasting thespeedy downfall of all the gates.
Several times through the day Squire Bixler saw the man with whom he hadheld converse the previous night, but on meeting him now, in the broadlight of day, an indifferent nod on the one hand, and a friendly,"Howdy, Squire!" on the other, was all that passed between the two men.
Milton Derr was also in town, but no recognition whatever took placebetween him and his uncle when they met by chance some two or threetimes, face to face, on the crowded street.
The Squire shrewdly kept his eyes open and tried to bear in mind thedifferent persons his confidential informant held converse with duringthe day; but this one was here and there, with a nod, a hand-shake or afriendly greeting, having, it seemed, no especial business with any one.
Along toward five o'clock (for the dusk came on early these briefOctober days) the Squire got his horse and started homeward. He hadchosen to ride a horse on this occasion, for he did not wish to beimportuned to give any one a seat in his buggy on the way back, andthere was no prospect of having the pretty toll-gate keeper for company,for she was helping her mother collect toll, as it was court day.Moreover, for special reasons of his own, the Squire desired to bealone.
He jogged along at a moderate pace until he reached the top of the firsthill; then he let his horse drop into a slow walk, for, on looking back,he saw in the waning light a horseman approaching from the town, andjudging that it was the person he wanted to see, he came to a halt inthe road when the overhanging elm was reached.
"What news?" asked he, as the other rode up.
"The night riders will be out again tonight, sure an' certain."
"About what time will they make a raid?"
"Along towards midnight--perhaps a little later."
"And what gate will they attack?"
"This one," answered his companion, nodding down the road.
"What! the New Pike gate?" exclaimed the Squire.
"Yes, it was decided at the last moment by the captain."
"Humph! I shouldn't think Milt would want to take a hand in that,"muttered the Squire, reflectively.
"He don't know yet that it's to be this one, I think; but even if hedid, he wouldn't dare to refuse to go along. He's taken the oath to obeythe orders that are given him, an' now he'll have to do it, whether itpleases him or not. You'll have that other hundred all right when I cometo see you tomorrow night or the next?"
"That's what I agreed to do, isn't it?" demanded the Squire, testily.
"Yes, of course, Squire, of course, only I wanted to remind you so youwouldn't forget to have it on hand, an' in small bills, too. A mandon't feel like riskin' his neck at this business, you know, unless he'ssure of gettin' well paid for it."
"You've already received more than yours is worth, I'm thinking,"growled the Squire. "If things turn out all right, though, and the youngman is safely jailed, I shan't mind giving you the extra hundred out ofmy own pocket," added he, melting into good humor again, as he rode offhomeward.