"MORE NIGHT RIDERS"
"Painful the task is I do, which to you I know must be
grievous."
One afternoon in the last week of March, Mr. Doggett came into his yard
with six mysterious envelopes in his hand. Mrs. Doggett pounced
curiously upon them.
"Diamont dyes! What you gona color with all them, Eph? You must be a
thenkin' o' startin' up one them dyin' fact'rys!"
Mr. Doggett grinned. "Them's Mr. Castle's pertection ag'in night riders,
Ann! He had the laugh on me when the boys skeered me, week afore last,
and now I got the laugh on him a leetle. He says, 'Doggett, hit looks so
bad, them beeg white beds a layin' right thar alongside the road. Ef
they wuz colored now, they wouldn't show nigh so plain!'
"He 'lowed too, he didn't no ways expect no night riders in this County,
on account o' this not bein' a regular terbaccer County, and the Equity
not havin' tuck much holt here, but he'd feel safeter, ef them canvases
wuz dyed! Yes, sir, old lady, he's skeered some. Hit tickled me to hear
him talk, and I brung the dye along to please him, although I hain't no
notion thar's any need o' usin' hit.
"Thar hain't no doubt about hit, though, a good many them Independent
raisers that's refused to sign the agreement not to raise no terbaccer
this year, _is_ a havin' their plant beds tore up and some their barns
burnt. Thar's a heap in the papers about hit, hain't thar, Mr. Lindsay?"
Mr. Doggett appealed to Mr. Lindsay who had just come in.
Mr. Lindsay nodded. "I jest got a letter from my cousin over in
Woodford, tellin' about the night ridin' there. She says the people
there thenks the terbaccer trust is hirin' a good many tough fellers to
burn barns,--and a layin' hit on the Equity, a tryin' to destroy the
Equity's credit. He says the people think the trust men actually
destroyed some of their own ware-houses, jest to discredit the Equity."
"Yes, sir," Mr. Doggett agreed, "and a heap o' the mischeef is a bein'
done by mean fellers that sees a chance to git in some spite work on
other fellers they are enemies to, without bein' cotched up with, like
hit wuz in time o' the war, when a heap o' devilment they never thought
o' doin', wuz laid on the soldiers! Hain't that so, Mr. Lindsay? You
remember them times, don't you?"
Mr. Lindsay signified that he did.
"Mr. Brock says that he don't believe they're a goin' to tech this
County," broke in Mrs. Doggett: "he says ef they do though, they'll have
to whoop him about three times a day before he'll quit! And, speakin' o'
angels,"--a look of intense pleasure enveloped Mrs. Doggett: "thar comes
Mr. Brock, now. And what's he fetchin'? Hit's a newspaper, hain't hit,
Eph?"
Mr. Brock proved the bearer of bad news. A paragraph in a New York paper
he had gotten at the Castle house, stated that in Bracken County,
Kentucky, a tobacco planter had killed two negroes, and shot off both
arms of a white man who he had caught scraping his plant beds. The name
of the white man was given as Hancock Slemp, and the paper further
stated that he was in a precarious condition. Hancock Slemp was no other
than Mr. Doggett's brother-in-law, his sister's husband.
Mrs. Doggett was much affected by the news, but Mr. Doggett suggested
that it might not be true.
"Sence the boys fooled me, I jest don't know what to believe _is_ so!"
he exclaimed. "Do you reckon hit's so, Mr. Brock?"
Mr. Brock did not know, but gave it as his opinion that it was true.
"I wished I knowed," cried Mr. Doggett, sorely puzzled as to the proper
course of action. "Maybe I'd jest better go on over thar, anyway! Poor
Louizy, ef hit's _so_, she's pestered might' night' to death! Jest knock
me up a plateful o' victuals, Ann, and I'll throw on a clean shirt, and
jerk on my Sunday clothes, and Joey, he can take me to the train. I'll
jest stay a day er two, and the boys kin keep an eye on the plowin' and
thengs ontel I git back."
Mrs. Doggett had made a fire in her stove, and cut a strip of bacon,
before she thought to ask, "How do people travel 'thout money, Eph?"
Mr. Doggett's jaw fell. "I plumb fergot I never had nothin' left from
the terbaccer! And now, what am I to do? I sorter hate to ask Mr. Castle
to advance me any now, this early, on another crop that I might not git
to raise."
Mr. Brock looked out of the window in a sudden strong interest in a bird
in a willow on the creek's bank, so that Mr. Doggett's look of appeal
was lost to him. Mr. Lindsay unfolded a worn leather pocket-book.
"How much will your 'round trip ticket come to, Uncle Eph? I guess I can
fix you up."
Within twenty minutes from the time of the reception of Mr. Brock's ill
tidings, Big Money was making quick application of his hoofs to the
turnpike leading to the railroad station from which Mr. Doggett was to
take the train.
Rain set in on the morning after Mr. Doggett's departure on his visit of
consolation, and for a week, fell heavily at intervals, precluding all
possibility of plowing. In the afternoon sunshine of the eighth day, Mr.
Doggett returned, and walked home from the station, his face rivalling
the sun in its good cheer.
Crossing a rye field, he came suddenly upon Mr. Lindsay, tacking slats
upon a strip of wire fencing,--an accommodation job, he had taken for
the man for whom he had been stripping tobacco.
"I thought you had gone off for good, Uncle Eph," he greeted Mr.
Doggett, as warm, and blowing with exercise, his shoes and the bottoms
of his Sunday pantaloons muddy from road splashes, Mr. Doggett seated
himself on a weather-beaten "drag," lying alongside the fence.
"How's your sister's man got?"
"He wuz as well as common when I left. He brung me to the train,"
answered Mr. Doggett.
"You don't say!" Mr. Lindsay dropped his hammer. "I 'lowed he'd be dead
of blood poison by now, maybe, with his arms shot off that a way."
Mr. Doggett grinned blithely. "He's all thar, Mr. Lindsay! Hain't nary
bit o' him missin', so fur as I could see, from his scelp lock, clean
down to his frost-bit toe-nail. Yes, sir, he's all thar. You see, he
wuzn't never shot at, let alone bein' hit. Hit wuz all a made-up tale!
"Hancock says that the Equity men thar says that Terbaccer Company that
buys all our terbaccer, jest hires some sassy, no-count fellers that
hain't easy onless they're a lyin', to write made-up news. Yes, sir,
them's the fellers that's a puttin' in more'n three thirds o' the
killin's and barn-burnin's.
"Hancock, he says thar is a right smart mischief a goin' on
though,--says folks' barns _has_ been burnt, yes, sir, and a good many
whooped too: but some o' this is bein' done, jest like I wuz a tellin'
you t'other day, by enemies--mean fellers that jest takes advantage o'
the times to git in their private spite and meanness and lay hit on the
night riders, yes, sir.
"The beeg men in the Equity don't believe in night ridin', but jest in
_reasonin'_: but Hancock says him and them fellers that's done the
sweatin' in the terbaccer raisin' and is a holdin' out ag'in the trust,
they know a righteous purpose, and they hain't a goin' to 'low
theirselves to be beat by some few fool terbaccer raisers that don't
know enough to keep from aidin' and abettin' what's a holdin' 'em down.
"Hancock says him and them fellers thar thenks like him, jest aims to
sp'ile the seed beds, and do a little skeerin', so the other fellers
that is so shortsighted, er stubborn, er selfish, they can't see the
benefit o' cuttin' out a crop, won't git to raise none."
"I reckon Hancock and the rest of 'em ain't a livin' very high these
days," observed Mr. Lindsay.
"No, sir, they hain't," Mr. Doggett agreed. "Hancock and most the
raisers in that County is jest got a little piece o' their own ground
(farms hain't beeg thar like they are in this County) but they hain't
got much else. Hancock never had no glass in his winders,--jest had a
slidin' board, and he never had no great thengs to eat while I wuz thar.
He says him and the rest of the County has been beat down to cornbread
and greens, but they are willin' to live on that, ef hit'll holp any,
ontel the trust's holt on 'em is broke. Yes, sir.
"They're a goin' to have a parade some time this spreng, at Augusty, to
show they're a holdin' out, and Hancock, he says they're a goin' to
carry flags with 'Very little money, but plenty of cornbread and
greens!' writ on 'em.
"Cornely, Hancock's girl, says she's a goin' to be in that parade ef she
has to go barefooted. She's been a wearin' a pair o' Hancock's old shoes
all winter, but they're about et into the uppers now! Hit's my belief,
they're plumb right, Mr. Lindsay, a tryin' to keep the crop down this
year.
"And they've convinced a heap o' others, too, one way and another, yes,
sir. One man thar,--he's a goin' to be the biggest feller in the
parade,--they reasoned with him both before and after they whooped him.
He's convinced, yes, sir, and don't hold no gredge, neither. He says:
'Boys, you whooped me into this theng, but I like hit so well, you'll
have to whoop me out o' hit!'"
"The night rider fellers didn't give you nary skeer, did they?" Mr.
Lindsay took a wire staple from between his teeth to ask.
Mr. Doggett looked sheepishly down at the ground for a few minutes
before he answered.
"The old lady--ef I wuz to tell you somethin', Mr. Lindsay," he
hazarded, "would you promise ferever to keep hit from the old lady?"
After Mr. Lindsay's remark that he thought he could safely promise that,
Mr. Doggett took the precautionary measure of drawing his improvised
chair a little nearer.
"Hit wuz away after ten when I got to the depot thar that evenin' I
went," he began, "and Hancock he lives five miles out, yes, sir. Hit wuz
so dark I wouldn't 'a' knew my own grandmother ef I'd 'a' met her, but I
got perticular diractions and 'lowed I could make out to find the way a
walkin'.
"I'd got about two miles and a half out, nigh about, before I seed
anybody on the road: then I heerd a trompin' and made out a gang o'
about forty fellers a ridin'. They wuzn't carryin' no beeg lights,--jest
one er two lanterns wuz all--and ever' feller had a piece o' black cloth
acrost the top o' his face.
"'Hello thar, Bud!' the foremost one hollered out to me when I sorter
aidged to one side the road,--'are you a goin' to raise a terbaccer crop
this year?'
"I noticed some of 'em wuz a carryin' hoes and shovels, and one o' two
sacks o' somethin, besides some guns, but I wuz tuck so suddent I never
once thought what they wuz up to.
"'Yes, sir' I says, 'I'm a aimin' to put in a right smart o' a crop.'
"And, ef you'll believe hit, Mr. Lindsay, them words hadn't hardly left
my mouth before two o' them biggest fellers jumped off their hosses, and
grabbed me and tied my hands behind my back!
"'I hain't got no money, boys!' I says, thenkin' maybe they wuz a Jesse
Jeemes gang.
"'We don't keer nothin' about your money,' the leader in front, says,
'you'll jest come along with us, Bud, and we'll tend to you, after we
git through our work.'
"They h'isted me on behind a little feller ridin' a big hoss, and I went
along with 'em. I didn't see nothin' else I could do, Mr. Lindsay.
"They kep' the beeg road, I'd jedge fer about two miles acrost the
country, then all of 'em stopped by a awful beeg terbaccer bed, a layin'
sorter on a hill like.
"'Less jest seed this one,' says one of the fellers carryin' a
sack.--'Jack Rout'd plant a dozen more beds, ef he knowed this one wuz
sp'ilt, and we'd as well save him that trouble.'
"And, ef you'll believe hit, Mr. Lindsay, they skinned that canvas offen
that thar bed, sowed hit thick with grass seed, and put the canvas back
like hit wuz, before a body could ketch on to what they wuz a doin'!
"Then they rid on purty fast 'tel they'd got clean out'n the
neighborhood. When they come to another beeg fine bed, the sassy little
feller I wuz a ridin' behind, he says: 'Less let Bud do some diggin'
here at this bed. He's a gittin' restless, havin' nothin' to do!'
"The others all laughed, but they ondone my hands and give me a hoe and
a shevel, and told me what to do. The plants wuz all a comin' up so
nice,--I felt 'em when I run my hand over 'em--I jest plumb hated to
tech 'em, but thar wuzn't nothin' else fer me to do, Mr. Lindsay, but
jest do like they told me.
"I dug a long hole, jest the length of a man, three feet deep, nigh
about, right in the middle o' the bed, and scraped off all the plants
that was left outside hit!
"I wuz in a plumb muck o' sweat when I got through, hit bein' a warm
night, and me awful tired to begin with. They put up a head and
foot-stone, and writ somepin' on 'em about this hole a bein' the only
fitten place fer a man that wuz a goin' ag'in his neighbors fer the
trust.
"The naixt bed we come to, them fellers _salted_. Yes, sir! The man
carryin' the salt sack says: 'Clover seed and hemp seed is too high fer
me to waste,--I jest brought the salt whar I had salted my hog meat
down!'
"After we had rid over about feefteen miles o' ground, the ring-leader,
he says: 'We've been fur enough tonight, hain't we, boys? Less 'tend to
the pris'ner and go home.'
"I'd been turrible warm up to this time, but when he said that, Mr.
Lindsay, I got as cold as a frog.
"'Did we onderstand you to say you were a goin' to raise a crop o'
terbaccer this year?' he says.
"'Yes, sir,' I says, and I own I wuz a shakin' so, Mr. Lindsay, my voice
wuzn't natural, 'I wuz a expectin' to!'
"'He wuz expectin' to!' a man back in the crowd that hadn't done no
talkin', put in. 'Tie him up to that thar ellum thar, boys, and give him
about forty-nine!'
"They drug me, a pullin' back like a hoss, and diggin' my feet in the
dirt worse'n a cat, to the tree, and while they wuz a tyin' me up, one
of 'em cut some long ellum switches. I seed I wuz in fer hit, and I
says: 'Boys, in my County, thar hain't nobody never had no orders not to
raise terbaccer.'
"'Whar is your County?' the feller that advised whoopin' me, says.
"'Hain't that you, Bud Baker, and don't you live in this County?'
"I told 'em who I wuz, and whar I'd come from. Told 'em I wuz on my way
to see my brother-in-law, Hancock Slemp, that had accidentally got bad
hurt a night ridin'. Then they all laughed, and Hancock,--he wuz the
very one that wanted me whooped--he said he could 'a' keeked hisse'f fer
not a knowin' me. Said hit bein' so dark and him near sighted wuz the
main reason he didn't. Then they all 'lowed thar wuzn't another feller
so nigh like Bud Baker, in gineral build, in the State.
"I tell you, they ontied me quick, and after we had rid back to
Hancock's house, I went to bed, and never waked up ontil ten naixt
mornin'!
"Louizy, she wuz plumb proud I thought enough o' her to come to see her
in her trouble, she said, but considerin' thar wuzn't no trouble on
hand, she wuz glad to see me anyhow."
"I reckon," mused Mr. Lindsay with a laugh, "hit couldn't be held ag'in
you, the part you took in night ridin' while you was there, considerin'
it wasn't of your own free will. Did Hancock do any more night ridin'
while you was there?"
"He wuz out some few nights," Mr. Doggett acknowledged. "The naixt night
after I got thar, his crowd went out, a layin' bundles o' switches ag'in
the doors o' some o' them hit had tore up the beds of, ez a sort o'
reminder o' what'd be did to 'em ef they put out any more beds. Yes,
sir.
"They called out one beeg fat man,--might' night' ez beeg around ez one
them Archie Evans sycamores. An awful mean feller they said he wuz, and
well off too. They wanted to tell him to his face what they'd do ef he
didn't promise not to raise terbaccer.
"A sort o' coward they said he wuz, Mr. Lindsay. He had the Gov'ner to
send him a lot o' them soldier boys to gyuard his premises. The night
Hancock and them went after him, his beeg gyuardin' army wuz a layin'
asleep in the terbaccer barn a mile from his house. One o' Hancock's men
scouted around and seed the soldiers wuz asleep, and come and told the
crowd.
"The night ridin' fellers, they wuz all a carryin' guns er rifles, but
ever' feller wuz proud the gyuards wuz asleep. You see, nobody wanted to
hurt the boys. Little town fellers, most of 'em wuz--proud to git to
ride hoss back, and out fer a good time a coon huntin', smokin'
ceegerettes and gittin' drunk. Some o' 'em hadn't never been on a hoss
before they tuck to bein' gyuards!
"The fat feller come to the door, his beeg jaws a swellin' up red, like
a turkey gobbler lookin' over a white sack o' meal. (He wuz in sich
haste he hadn't drawed on no day clothes.)
"'Of course,' he says, 'I'm goin' to raise a tobacco crop this year.
Didn't I git sixteen cents fer all mine last year?'
"'Yes, old elephant,' says Hancock, 'you did, and ever'body else around
you, with terbaccer jest as good and some of hit better'n yourn, got
_six_. What did the Trust's buyer promise you this year, ef you'd stand
ag'in the Equity, and keek hit all you could as you've been a
doin',--_eighteen_ cents, er _twenty_?'
"'Exercise more jedgement in disposin' of your crop, ef you want to git
_my_ prices,' the fat man let out, mighty impudent, 'I'm a man of
jedgement!'
"'We're men o' jedgement too,' Hancock says, 'but hit don't let us
honestly git livin' prices fer our terbaccer.'
"'Ef you've got grievances ag'in the buyers, why don't you take 'em to
the Courts?'
"'The Courts!' Hancock says,--'how long would hit be afore we'd git a
Court decision? Of course the Courts might decide in time to do our
great grandchildren jestice, but thar hain't no Methusalah strain in
none our blood jest at present. We'd have to _eat_ while we wuz a
waitin' fer the cases to be settled in Court!
"'I reckon you want us to _keep on_ eatin' corn bread and greens ever'
day, and let you keep that hide of yours plumped out with pound cake,
turkey and ice cream, do you?'
"'You can eat timothy fer all I keer!' he says, 'twon't cut no figger in
my terbaccer raisin'!'
"'Naw, but _these_ will!' Hancock says, throwin' his bundle o' apple
tree switches on the ground,--he'd had 'em hid--'_these_ will! Ketch
him, boys!'
"Hit tuck six o' the boys to pull him offen the verandy and git him
roped, he clawed and fit so. They never give him but feefteen licks! No,
sir. He give in uncommon quick,--his meat bein' some softer than his
temper. I'd jedge though, hit wuz the sight o' that thar bundle o' hedge
tree switches one the boys fetched and laid down in front o' him that
brung him to reason so soon.
"He 'lowed when he ketched sight o' them, he wouldn't raise nary stalk
o' terbaccer, and he wouldn't keek the Equity nary 'nother keek, no sir!
And he meant hit too. Yes, sir, he wuz ez humble ez a toad when they
ontied him and give him a match and a ca'tridge and told him these wuz
souvernears o' the occasion.
"I wuz so tickled when we rid off, I come nigh a fallin' off the hoss I
wuz a ridin'!"
"Uncle Eph," said Mr. Lindsay, here, "you don't mean to tell me you was
out a night ridin' too, of your _own choice_?"
Mr. Doggett colored as he realized his tongue slip had betrayed his
departure from the beaten path of virtue.
"Don't never let the old lady and the boys, ner anybody else about here,
hear o' hit, Mr. Lindsay," he besought. "Hancock put at me so to go and
see a little o' the fun," he admitted reluctantly, "I went with him and
the boys a time er two!"
"I guess you'll give up puttin' in a crop, now," Mr. Lindsay remarked,
picking up his tools to go. Mr. Doggett rose.
"Well, no, sir. Ef I didn't raise, Mr. Castle'd git somebody else, so
what'd be the difference? Ef I wuz not to put in a crop the boys'd have
to light out and work in the mines maybe, or on the railroad, which is
mighty nigh shore death, yes, sir! Any word you want to send the
Jeemses, Mr. Lindsay?"
Mr. Lindsay stiffened slightly, and there was a world of meaning in his
one word of answer, "No!"