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The Red Mist

in Fayette a ridin' like hell fer Charleston. Monte's band picked him up, an' he didn't find this kentry none too healthy fer his line o' business, which was recruitin'—whut's that, Kelly?"

"Better let ther preacher tell his story, Anse. We're losin' a lot o' time; I reckon thar must a bin some kind o' male critter yere; 'taint likely ther girl locked him up alone, an' it don't make no odds whut the Yank's name wus, nohow."

"Go on, Nichols; whut happened? Tell us the whole ef it, but make it short."

The preacher drew in a long breath, evidently relieved to have the pressure of Anse's murderous fingers removed from his throat. He sputtered a bit as he began to speak, and there were muffled words we could not distinguish. Occasionally someone of his auditors interrupted with an oath, or exclamation. He spoke faster as he proceeded, as though feeling less fear, and eager to have the task over. Only once or twice did Cowan interject a brief question.

"I came yere as you told me to, but I must hev' rode faster then was expected, fer no one wus yere when I got ter the house. It was stormin' all ther way, an' I wus plum wet through, an' plastered ith mud. The hoss was fit ter drap, fer I thought maybe I'd be late, an' we'd cum a kitin'. Thar warn't nary light in ther shebang exceptin' upstairs on the