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Fox, John, 1863-1919

"The Trail of the Lonesome Pine"

At the head of them stood Hale, his face a pale image, as
hard as though cut from stone, his head bare, and his hand and his
hip weaponless. In all that crowd there was not a man or a woman
who had not seen or heard of him, for the power of the guard that
was at his back had radiated through that wild region like ripples
of water from a dropped stone and, unarmed even, he had a personal
power that belonged to no other man in all those hills, though
armed to the teeth. His voice rose clear, steady, commanding:
"The law has come here and it has come to stay." He faced the
beetling eyebrows and angrily working beard of old Judd now:
"The Falins are here to get revenge on you Tollivers, if you
attack us. I know that. But"--he wheeled on the Falins--
"understand! We don't want your help! If the Tollivers try to take
that man in there, and one of you Falins draws a pistol, those
guns there"--waving his hand toward the jail windows--"will be
turned loose on YOU, WE'LL FIGHT YOU BOTH!" The last words shot
like bullets through his gritted teeth, then the flash of his eyes
was gone, his face was calm, and as though the whole matter had
been settled beyond possible interruption, he finished quietly:
"The condemned man wishes to make a confession and to say good-by.


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