Jasper County Democrat, Volume 17, Number 103, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 3 April 1915 — PAYMENT IN FULL [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

PAYMENT IN FULL

A Tragic Episode.

By BAYARD VEILLER

Late in an afternoon of October the warden of the county jail stood smoking in the doorway of his office. In the wide street of the little southern town quiet reigned. Two dogs were Wrangling happily over a bone. Farther along a crowd of boys were playing with a ball. ' A keeper came out and stood beside the warden, who paid no attention to him. The old man coughed slightly and touched his superior on the arm. “Th" man in nurnbah 7 wants t’ see you all.” “What’s he want now?” asked the warden querulously.. “He’s always after sumthin’. Does he think I ain't got nuthin' ter do but run errants fer him?” He still spoke with the accent of his Ifew England birthplace. “I dunno,” said the old man. “Whut’s he here fer, annyhow?” went on tlfe warden. “Lord knows. I can't keep track of all them fellers!

You fellers down here gets arrested fer th' darnedest funny things 1 her ever heerd tell on. Up north we gits fellers in jail fer reel sure enough crimes. Down here th’ criminals ain l no account. What’s he in fer. 1 say?” “He all got kotched fer runnin’ a still.” explained the keeper. "lie's a right good feller tew.” “Well, I ain't goin’ up there." announced the warden. "You bring him down here to me. 1 reckon he won’t git away.” The keeper slouched away and returned a few minutes later in company with the prisoner. He was tall, rawboned, uncouth. He stood awkwardly before the warden, fumbling a tom cap in his band. , “Well, whut’s yure name?” asked the warden. “Wilbur Rawlins,” said the man. with a slow drawl. “I got kotched fer runnin' a still,” he added. " Twan’t mine.” be went on after a pause. “Oh. I ain’t th’ jedge,” said the warden cheerfully. “Whut you want with me?” The man was silent. He rubbed one foot over the other-slowly and then scratched his ear. ’ “Come. come, young feller.” said the warden, not unkindly. "Ye sent word thet ye wanted ter see me. Waal, now. ye see me. Whut ye want with me?” “1 gotter go home fer a couple o' days.” “You gotter go home?" said the warden. “Young feller, this ain't no boardin’ house. You gotter stay right here till you are tried.” “Kain't ye let me go?" pleaded the prisoner. “ 'Tain't’s if I’d. done much I ain’t killed nobody. I ain't eveu ben in a feud. 1 swar I'll come back heah ” “Can’t do it,” said the warden. “They’s no use askin’ me. I tell ye I can’t do it.” “I ain’t got nuthin' but er mewel.” urged the prisoner. “Y’o’re welcome ter that es you all ’ll leinme go.” The warden smiled grimly. “I couldn’t let ye go es ye offered me a thousand dollars.” he said. “Wbat’d y» wanter go fer. anyway?" he added “Mab little gal’s all alone up on th 1 mountain.” said the prisoner, “an' they ain’t no neighbahs ter go ter her. an’ they’s a babby a-comin. an' I gotter be thar. Heavens, man, ye kain't let her be tbar alone at a time like that! Kain't ye see I jess natchellv gotter be tbar?” “Can’t be did.” said the warden briefly. ■ “Es you all ’ll let me go I’ll name th’ babbv nftah yon all.” He had the air of a man offering a bribe of stupendous die. “Supposin' ft wuz a gal?” suggested the warm*!:.

"1 doan* keer. We air ’ll name.her Aftah yon all. Whut’s yure name?” “Zebulon.” said the warden shortly. It was a sore point with him, this name. “But can't ye see, man, I. can’t let ye go? Not but I’d be proud ter hey tb' baby named atter me.” he went on politely. “I dunno es I ever taed a baby named atter me. But, honest, I can't let ye go.” "Jess fer one day," pleaded the prisoner. “Not fer a minit.” said the warden •’Now. loqlc here, man, ye jest go back ter yer cell an' trust t' the Lord. Ye’re wife'll be »U right. It'll be kinder lonesome mebbe. but it’ll be all right." "I gutter go. an’ I’m goin’,” said the prisoher defiantly as he turned away. The warden slept late the nest morning. He was still sleeping when bis wife came and shook him roughly by the shoulder. She was crying, and so was the child clinging tb her skirts. “Git up. Zeb!” cried the woman. “Whut’s ill’ matter?” yawned the warden sleepily.

"Thet moonshiner’s killed Tom ah’ broke out!” cried the woman. The warden leaped from his bed and. clad only in his nightshirt, ran hurriedly through the bouse and up Into the Jail. On the floor in front of cell 97 he found the keeper lying dead. The old man's face was purple, and about his throat was the Imprint of fingers. The door of the cell was open. “Merciful heavens,” cried the warden. “who’d ’a' thought It? Thet feller wuz jest es peaceable es a lamb.” “I foun’ the front door open when 1 got up this morn in’,” said the woman, “an’ I mistrusted all wa’n’t right, so 1 come here an' foun’ thet. It was turrible. I shan’t git over it ter my dyin’ day, Zebulon Waters, I shan’t” The man had been the only prisoner on the tier, and he had been so docile and quiet that in his case the usual discipline had been relaxed. The door of his cell was never locked when the keeper was in the corridor. "Thet's whut comes o’ bein’ kind ter them prisoners,” said the warden’s wife.

“Shet up, can't ye?” cried the warden. “Ain’t I got trouble ernough ’thout you chimin' in? Like es not I’ll lose th’ job for this.’* “Whutje goin’ ter do now ?” asked the woman. “Put on my pants.” said the warden shortly. “D'je think I thought ye wuz goin’ ter hunt fer thet feller in yer night shirt?” retorted his wife angrily. “Lucinda, shet up,” said the man solemnly. “Don't fergit ye're in the presence of death. Yer jest go into the house and hurry up the breakfast. I getter git arter this man lively, and we may nab him fer he gets much of a start” Within an hoot the warden had or ganized a posse to hunt for the missing prisoner. Two of the men brought bloodhounds. "I won't” hev him tom up by them dogs.” announced the warden—“not es he killed th’ bull town. ’Tain't Christian. I'm fer law an’ order, an’ we’re goin ter catch this feller right. We aint goin’ ter hev him et up by no dogs.” . It was explained that neither of the dogs would be unmuzzled; that they would merely be used to trace the map.

“Ye don’t need no dogs,” said the warden's wife. “I talked ’ith thet feller yestedy an' I know. Y’e don’t need no dogs. Es ye jest go ter whar he lives ye’ll git him easy enough. That’s whar he’s went.” In spite of this they took the dogs. The men were on horseback, and for the first five miles they had no difl&» culty in following the animals. The dogs ran straight, their noses close to the ground. The trail was easy for them to follow. Then the road became rougher and rougher as the path led up the mountain side. Ten miles from the town the party had to abandon their horses, leaving the animals In charge of one man. After that they slowly made their way J up the mountain, the dogs, still in | leash, tugging frantically at their | chains. : . • j The cool, brisk air of the October ; woods, fragrant with pine and balsam. made no impression on these men. , They were hunting a human being—a ; murderer. Two or three suggested j that it would be a good thing to hang him as soon as he was caught. “No. ye won't.” said the warden. "Me an* th' sheriff's runnifa’ this hunt. ! an' it’s goin’ ter be lawful all through. I’m goin" ter take that feller back ter j jail, an" he's goin’ ter be tried fer murder."

Tlie others gave a sullen assent. Suddenly the party stopped. Half a mile al»ove them, standing out in the clear fall air in sharp lines, stood a small log cabin. "He alt lives thar,” said one of the party in a whisper. ’ ■ > The dogs tugged harder on their chains. “We'd better go kinder quiet,” Suggested the warden. “Mebbe he's got a gnu.” Slowly the men made their way toward the house. From the place there came no sound. The men came nearer and nearer. Two or three drew pistols and held them ready for instant use. The warden, closely followed by his posse, finally stood in the doorway of the little cabin. The sunlight streaming through the open window fell on the figure of the fugitive, sitting with powed head beside a tumbled bed on which lay the dead bodies of a mother and child. The man looked up dream* liy. * “I wuz sbo’ly sorry ter hev ter kill Torm." he said slowly, flbut I wuz jess natchelly ’bieeged ter come.”

"I SWAR I'LL COME BACK HEAH."