It was
time, she thought, that the Red Fox was coming home.
XXVIII
And so while Bad Rufe Tolliver was waiting for death, the trial of
the Red Fox went on, and when he was not swinging in a hammock,
reading his Bible, telling his visions to his guards and singing
hymns, he was in the Court House giving shrewd answers to
questions, or none at all, with the benevolent half of his mask
turned to the jury and the wolfish snarl of the other half showing
only now and then to some hostile witness for whom his hate was
stronger than his fear for his own life. And in jail Bad Rufe
worried his enemy with the malicious humour of Satan. Now he would
say:
"Oh, there ain't nothin' betwixt old Red and me, nothin' at all--
'cept this iron wall," and he would drum a vicious tattoo on the
thin wall with the heel of his boot. Or when he heard the creak of
the Red Fox's hammock as he droned his Bible aloud, he would say
to his guard outside:
"Course I don't read the Bible an' preach the word, nor talk with
sperits, but thar's worse men than me in the world--old Red in
thar' for instance"; and then he would cackle like a fiend and the
Red Fox would writhe in torment and beg to be sent to another
cell.
Pages:
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361