OLE MISSOURY
Molly Wingate looked from one to the other of the group of silent,
shamefaced men. Puzzled, she turned again to the victor in the savage
combat.
"You!"
Will Banion caught up his clothing, turned away.
"You are right!" said he. "I have been a brute! Good-by!"
An instant later Molly found herself alone with the exception of her
brother.
"You, Jed, what was this?" she demanded.
Jed took a deep and heartfelt chew of plug.
"Well, it was a little argument between them two," he said finally.
"Like enough a little jealousy, like, you know--over place in the train,
or something. This here was for men. You'd no business here."
"But it was a shame!"
"I reckon so."
"Who started this?"
"Both of them. All we was here for was to see fair. Men got to fight
sometimes."
"But not like animals, not worse than savages!"
"Well, it was right savage, some of the time, sis."
"They said--about eyes--oh!"
The girl shivered, her hands at her own eyes.
"Yes, they called it free. Anybody else, Sam Woodhull'd be sorry enough
right now. T'other man throwed him clean and had him down, but he let
him up. He didn't never hurt Sam's eyes, only pinched his head a little.
He had a right, but didn't. It had to be settled and it was settled,
fair and more'n fair, by him."
"But, Jed"--the eternal female now--"then, which one really whipped?"
"Will Banion did, ain't I told you? You insulted him, and he's gone.
Having come in here where you wasn't no ways wanted, I reckon the best
thing you can do is to go back to your own wagon and stay there. What
with riding horses you hadn't ought, and seeing fights when you don't
know a damned thing about nothing, I reckon you've made trouble about
enough. Come on!"
"Price," said Bill Jackson to the grave and silent man who walked with
him toward the wagon train beyond the duelling ground, "this settles
hit. Us Missoury wagons won't go on under no sech man as Sam Woodhull.
We didn't no ways eleck him--he was app'inted. Mostly, elected is
better'n app'inted. An' I seen afore now, no man can hold his place on
the trail unless'n he's fitten. We'll eleck Will Banion our cap'n, an'
you fellers kin go to hell. What us fellers started out to do was to go
to Oregon."
"But that'll mean the train's split!"
"Shore hit will! Hit is split right now. But thar's enough o' the
Liberty wagons to go through without no help. We kin whup all the rest
o' this train, give we need ter, let alone a few Injuns now an' then.
"To-night," he concluded, "we'll head up the river, an' leave you
fellers the boat an' all o' Papin's Ferry to git acrost the way you
want. Thar hain't no manner o' man, outfit, river er redskin that Ole
Missoury kain't lick, take 'em as they come, them to name the holts an'
the rules. We done showed you-all that. We're goin' to show you some
more. So good-by." He held out his hand. "Ye helped see f'ar, an' ye're a
f'ar man, an' we'll miss ye. Ef ye git in need o' help come to us. Ole
Missoury won't need no help."
"Well, Woodhull's one of you Missourians," remarked Price.
"Yes, but he ain't bred true. Major Banion is. Hit was me that made him
fight knuckle an' skull an' not with weapons. He didn't want to, but I
had a reason. I'm content an' soothe jest the way she lies. Ef Will
never sees the gal agin she ain't wuth the seein'.
"Ye'll find Col. William Banion at the head o' his own train. He's
fitten, an' he's fout an' proved hit"