THE CHAMPION.
A big wagon, with two men on the seat, appeared coming up the valley
road. It was Wash Gibbs and a crony from the river. They had stopped at
the distillery on their way, and were just enough under the influence
of drink to be funny and reckless.
When they caught sight of Ollie Stewart and Miss Lane, Wash said
something to his companion, at which both laughed uproariously. Upon
reaching the couple, the wagon came to a stop, and after looking at
Ollie for some moments, with the silent gravity of an owl, Gibbs turned
to the young lady, “Howdy, honey. Where did you git that there? Did
your paw give hit to you fer a doll baby?”
Young Stewart’s face grew scarlet, but he said nothing.
“Can’t hit talk?” continued Gibbs with mock interest.
Glancing at her frightened escort, the girl replied, “You drive on,
Wash Gibbs. You’re in no condition to talk to anyone.”
An ugly leer came over the brutal face of the giant; “Oh, I ain’t,
ain’t I? You think I’m drunk. But I ain’t, not so mighty much. Jest
enough t’ perten me up a pepper grain.” Then, turning to his companion,
who was grinning in appreciation of the scene, he continued, “Here,
Bill; you hold th’ ribbens, an’ watch me tend t’ that little job I told
you I laid out t’ do first chance I got.” At this, Ollie grew as pale
as death. Once he started as if to escape, but he could not under
Sammy’s eyes.
As Wash was climbing down from the wagon, he caught sight of Young Matt
standing in the door of the mill shed. “Hello, Matt,” he called
cheerfully; “I ain’t a lookin’ fer you t’ day; ’tend t’ you some other
time. Got more important business jest now.”
Young Matt made no reply, nor did he move to interfere. In the
backwoods every man must fight his own battles, so long as he fights
with men. When Stewart was in danger from the panther, it was
different. This was man to man. Sammy, too, reared in the mountains,
and knowing the code, waited quietly to see what her lover would do.
Coming to Ollie’s side, Gibbs said, “Git down, young feller, an’ look
at yer saddle.”
“You go on, and let me alone, Wash Gibbs. I’ve never hurt you.” Ollie’s
naturally high pitched voice was shrill with fear.
Wash paused, looked back at his companion in the wagon; then to Young
Matt, and then to the girl on the horse. “That’s right,” he said,
shaking his head with ponderous gravity. “You all hear him. He ain’t
never hurted me, nary a bit. Nary a bit, ladies an’ gentlemen. But,
good Lord! look at him! Hain’t hit awful!” Suddenly he reached out one
great arm, and jerked the young man from his horse, catching him with
the other hand as he fell, and setting him on his feet in the middle of
the road.
Ollie was like a child in the grasp of his huge tormentor, and, in
spite of her indignation, a look of admiration flashed over Sammy’s
face at the exhibition of the bully’s wonderful physical strength; an
admiration, that only heightened the feeling of shame for her lover’s
weakness.
Gibbs addressed his victim, “Now, dolly, you an’ me’s goin’ t’ play a
little. Come on, let’s see you dance.” The other struggled feebly a
moment and attempted to draw a pistol, whereupon Wash promptly captured
the weapon, remarking in a sad tone as he did so, “You hadn’t ought t’
tote such a gun as that, sonny; hit might go off. Hit’s a right pretty
little thing, ain’t hit?” he continued, holding his victim with one
hand, and examining the pearl handled, nickel plated weapon with great
interest. “Hit sure is. But say, dolly, if you was ever t’ shoot me
with that there, an’ I found hit out, I’d sure be powerful mad. You
hear me, now, an’ don’t you pack that gun no more; not in these
mountains. Hit ain’t safe.”
The fellow in the wagon roared with delight at these witticisms, and
looked from Young Matt to Sammy to see if they also appreciated the
joke.
“Got any more pretties!” asked Gibbs of his victim. “No? Let’s see.”
Catching the young man by the waist, he lifted him bodily, and, holding
him head downward, shook him roughly. Again Sammy felt her blood tingle
at the feat of strength.
Next holding Ollie with one huge hand at the back of his neck, Wash
said, “See that feller in th’ wagon there? He’s a mighty fine
gentleman; friend o’ mine. Make a bow t’ him.” As he finished, with his
free hand he struck the young man a sharp blow in the stomach, with the
result that Stewart did make a bow, very low, but rather too suddenly
to be graceful.
The fellow in the wagon jumped up and bowed again and again; “Howdy,
Mr. City Man; howdy. Mighty proud t’ meet up with you; mighty proud,
you bet!”
The giant whirled his captive toward the mill. “See that feller yonder?
I’m goin’ t’ lick him some day. Make a face at him.” Catching Ollie by
the nose and chin, he tried to force his bidding, while the man in the
wagon made the valley ring with his laughter. Then Wash suddenly faced
the helpless young man toward Sammy. “Now ladies and gentlemen,” he
said in the tones of a showman addressing an audience, “this here
pretty little feller from th’ city’s goin’ t’ show us Hill-Billies how
t’ spark a gal.”
The bully’s friend applauded loudly, roaring at the top of his voice,
“Marry ’em, Wash. Marry ’em. You can do hit as good as a parson! You’d
make a good parson. Let’s see how’d you go at hit.”
The notion tickled the fancy of the giant, for it offered a way to make
Sammy share the humiliation more fully. “Git down an’ come here t’ yer
honey,” he said to the girl. “Git down, I say,” he repeated, when the
young woman made no motion to obey.
“Indeed, I will not,” replied Sammy shortly.
Her tone and manner angered Gibbs, and dropping Ollie he started toward
the girl to take her from the horse by force. As he reached the pony’s
side, Sammy raised her whip and with all her strength struck him full
across the face. The big ruffian drew back with a bellow of pain and
anger. Then he started toward her again. “I’ll tame you, you wild cat,”
he yelled. And Sammy raised her whip again.
But before Gibbs could touch the girl, a powerful hand caught him by
the shoulder. “I reckon you’ve had fun enough, Wash Gibbs,” remarked
Young Matt in his slow way. “I ain’t interfering between man and man,
but you’d best keep your dirty hands off that lady.”
The young woman’s heart leaped at the sound of that deep calm voice
that carried such a suggestion of power. And she saw that the blue eyes
under the tumbled red brown locks were shining now like points of
polished steel. The strong man’s soul was rejoicing with the fierce joy
of battle.
The big bully drew back a step, and glared at the man who had come
between him and his victim; the man whom, for every reason, he hated.
Lifting his huge paws, he said in a voice hoarse with deadly menace,
“Dirty, be they? By hell, I’ll wash ’em. An’ hit won’t be water that’ll
clean ’em, neither. Don’t you know that no man ever crosses my trail
an’ lives?”
The other returned easily, “Oh, shucks! Get into your wagon and drive
on. You ain’t on Roark now. You’re on Fall Creek, and over here you
ain’t no bigger’n anybody else.”
While Young Matt was speaking, Gibbs backed slowly away, and, as the
young man finished, suddenly drew the pistol he had taken from Ollie.
With a quickness and lightness astonishing in one of his bulk and
usually slow movements, the mountaineer leaped upon his big enemy.
There was a short, sharp struggle, and Wash staggered backward, leaving
the shining weapon in Young Matt’s hand. “It might go off, you know,”
said the young fellow quietly, as he tossed the gun on the ground at
Ollie’s feet.
With a mad roar, Gibbs recovered himself and rushed at his antagonist.
It was a terrific struggle; not the skillful sparring of trained
fighters, but the rough and tumble battling of primitive giants. It was
the climax of long months of hatred; the meeting of two who were by
every instinct mortal enemies. Ollie shrank back in terror, but Sammy
leaned forward in the saddle, her beautiful figure tense, her lips
parted, and her face flushed with excitement.
It was soon evident that the big champion of the hills had at last met
his match. As he realized this, a look of devilish cunning crept into
the animal face of Gibbs, and he maneuvered carefully to bring his
enemy’s back toward the wagon.
Catching a look from his friend, over Young Matt’s shoulder, the man in
the wagon slipped quickly to the ground, and Sammy saw with horror a
naked knife in his hand. She glanced toward Ollie appealingly, but that
gentleman was helpless. The man with the knife began creeping
cautiously toward the fighting men, keeping always behind Young Matt.
The young woman felt as though an iron band held her fast. She could
not move. She could not speak. Then Gibbs went down, and the girl’s
scream rang out, _“Behind you, Matt! Look quick!”_
As he recovered his balance from the effort that had thrown Wash, Young
Matt heard her cry, saw the girl’s look of horror, and her outstretched
hand pointing. Like a flash he whirled just as the knife was lifted
high for the murderous blow. It was over in an instant. Sammy saw him
catch the wrist of the uplifted arm, heard a dull snap and a groan, saw
the knife fall from the helpless hand, and then saw the man lifted
bodily and thrown clear over the wagon, to fall helpless on the rocky
ground. The woman gave a low cry, “Oh, _what a man!”_
Wash Gibbs, too, opened his eyes, just in time to witness the
unheard-of feat, and to see the bare-armed young giant who performed it
turn again, breathing heavily with his great exertion, but still ready
to meet his big antagonist.
The defeated bully rose from the ground. The other stepped forward to
meet him. But without a word, Gibbs climbed into the wagon and took up
the reins. Before they could move, Young Matt had the mules by their
heads. “You have forgotten something,” he said quietly, pointing to the
man on the ground, who was still unconscious from his terrible fall.
“That there’s your property. Take it along. We ain’t got no use for
such as that on Fall Creek.”
Sullenly Wash climbed down and lifted his companion into the wagon. As
Young Matt stood aside to let him go, the bully said, “I’ll see you
agin fer this.”
The strong man only answered, “I reckon you’d better stay on Roark,
Wash Gibbs. You got more room there.”