Frank of Freedom Hill

turned an overheated runabout out of the blazing highw

," he said

f sixty or thereabout, long, lank, wiry, with a white patriarchal beard and white bee

," ordere

and showing within two rows of untidy bunks; at the smaller tents that formed a hollow square; at the shed for mules deeper

repeated Sim

ng the twenty-mile drive from the county seat had not spoken a word to h

ad. In front, under the shade of an oak, were two or three splint-bottom chairs. And chained to the oak

leonine, rugged, with chops and dewlaps that hung loosely down, giving the impression of a detached and judicial attitude toward life. His expression was grave, thoughtful, melancholy, as if his ancestors, po

s any dog, at their approach, look up. When Simmons passed the great hound did not stir; but when Tom Abercrombie

nd, in all this strangeness, a friend. He sp

e said gently. "O

is face suddenly more crimso

say to that do

d at him steadily

bercrombie, and I know your game, you bloody, long-whiskered, knife

sh, got out his knife,

old of it! Catch it with both hands. Never mind

es narrowed to mere slits behind the beetling brows. The cold steel of the mo

, I recko

ear of an investigation if he struck the old man, something daun

his tongue, "I brought out in that car three boxes o

that night he lay on an iron cot, staring up at the roof of a solitary tent, which, according to law, had to be provided for him.

by guards with shotguns, file into camp. To-morrow he himself would be one of that gang; and not only to-morrow, but for two years. Assault and Battery with Inte

seemed a crystal palace to the old man and to Molly his wife, fresh from t

wide-open doors, had all turned red before his eyes. He had risen from his chair and gone toward this seat of th

sleeve. This was not true, and he denied it stoutly on the stand. As a matter of fact, he had not thought of his knife until the three young bruisers, habitués of the place and of the quest

ollowed by a crowd, found the knife in his hand. The testimony was against him; besides, he did not make a good

irl, she was a bit deaf, her sunbonnet came down close over her ears, and she had been eating her ice cream, oblivious.

ves of accuser and accused. But the gods have eternity at their disposal, and their mills are run by unerring, self-administering laws, while the courts are sometimes harassed

king of a long double cabin in a mountain-girded valley, far over the Tennessee line, where he and Molly had lived forty

on of striped clothes he was spared; that barbarity had been done away with by law. He wore his black trousers, a blue shirt, and his broad-brimmed hat.

ched over by guards with shotguns. He saw the eyes of these guards turn constantly tow

ed after sundown. Always, before and behind, the gang picked and shovelled, always the eyes of the guards were turning to

d he mapped out the water courses and the stretches of woodland that led with least open country

him," warned Simm

oulders and let her pass. Throughout the interview, though, he sat over there by the guard tent, his eyes al

or himself. "They were all nice to me, Tom," she declared; "but they say they can't do nothin'. The governor talked to me a long time in his office. He ask

l Freedom Hill, up the road whar you been workin', they headed the petition. They are the richest folks 'round here. They heered the trial, Tom. They know you was set upon in that low-down place. Mr. Earle, he went to the capitol wi

. Mr. Earle, he told me that, just yistiddy, Tom. Squire Kirby he says the same thing. Tom, the sheriff hisself as good

. "Don't try to get away. That man over yonder, he'll kill you, Tom. Folks said he w

ad suggested. She told him about the bloodhound. The newspaper men said he nev

y advised me right. Tom, two years ain't long. We waited longe

d gal,"

ut here and there, which caused old Tom, as the road-scraper passed and repassed the spot, to look very closely down into the upturned dirt. And it

oiled silently, sluggishly, in the blinding glare. Simmons had driven off in the direction of Greenville an hour be

behind him, the Negro who handled the levers, "Jake, there's a bolt

hirt. Deliberately, as if encountering obstacles which caused him trouble, he hammered away at the supposed loose bolt. When at last he clambered back i

y were not all like Simmons) to go in and buy himself some tobacco. The guard who went in with him saw noth

the outline of the bloodhound asleep. Once, when he thought the guard nodded, he reached in his shirt. He got out the object he had picked up in the road and rubbed it against his shackles. The rasp of file on steel

d lofty against the sky, seemed now to be beckoning him. Once within them, once across the st

big tent, drowned out to all ears but his own the rasp of a file on steel. Next day the continued rain made road work impossible, and as he hobbled back and forth to feed the mules, chewing gum hid

the mule sheds, where he stood listening. Then, hat pulled down low, he hurried thr

dimly luminous. He struck straight for the bottoms and the creek, whose swollen turbulence sounded above the rain. He plunged into the water, which at the deepest places came no higher than hi

of the ground at a distance from the bank, then bent over it. He caught hold of the branches, swung himself up, felt his way l

ut confident, like one who has covered up all trace of a trail, making his steady way with long mountaineer's stride across tang

to save his energy. As the light of the gray day grew stronger he distinguished, at no great distance ahead, it seemed, the outlines of misty mountains. He recognized the gap where the highway

guard, had, during the hour of lunch one day, told him something about the bloodhound, Sheriff. The dog, he said, was not a full

immons followed as fast as he could. No trouble to follow him. "You never heard such a voice as he's got in your life," the guard had added with a grin. "He usually p

No sound but the steady dripping of rain from trees-no sound of pursuit. M

d his white hair stirred on his head, just as the hair of the old fox who has run all night might rise on his back. From far behind through

e during which he collected his wits, momentarily upset. Then again, faint and far away, like the ringing of a distant bell, came the sound. Miles between where he swung

rowth of the bottom, he stopped again, panting. Though still far away and faint, it

a stony spot, where a trail does not remain long at best, he stopped, swung his arms and jumped as far as he could to the right. F

d seemed far away. Then as he reached a highland, it came clearer and surer, more resonant, and closer than ever. And now from back

d, made his eyes blaze. Who was he to run from any man? Then quickly rage c

his second track. He crossed the original trail at the point where he had left it, and kept straight on forming the letter T. Once m

red. He would circle, of course, but the circles themselves would lead him off on tracks that turned back on themselves. As an additional puzzle, wherever the old man doubled, he put his arms a

ler puzzle, struck the second and intricate one. First deathlike silence-the hound had come to the end of the trail. Probably he was whiffing the trunks of th

after a moment the long-drawn howl of a hound, frankly perplexed, and the fierce, angry yell of a man far behind. With fingers that trembled because of the ch

fying sense of achievement and triumph. Once or twice the dog bayed uncertainly. Once or twice the man yelled, it seemed to him with lessened confidence. Once it sounded as if the

Molly and the horrors he had left. Suddenly he rose, and his face was drawn and wh

eran, wiser by far than any dog Tom had ever known in all his knowledge of dogs, had worked the puzzle out, had run in ever-greater cir

g on which Tom had sat. He had left the log. The sound burst on the old fugitive now, almost like a chorus, menacing, terrible, inexorable as fate. All the hills, all the valleys,

eaking into a run. Now and then he stumbled with weariness, once he fell face downward. A

across a wooded valley beyond which rose the lofty undulations of the Tennessee mountains. The cl

take me," said the old

face to his enemies. And now, in the woods of the extensive bottoms that lay between the ridge and

sunlight about him. He was no longer a fleeing animal matching wits with a p

Near at hand a giant sycamore, dead and leafless, rose loftily above the smaller growth into the sky. Beside this tree he stood, his white hair and

ly bayed him, he would wait until the guards came up. Their commands he would disregard: he would not even t

the cornfield in the bottom, where he had ploughed so many springs. He saw the faces of children and grandchildren, one by one.

of him was an open place in the woods, a place strewn with flinty stones and arrowheads, with now and then a black and rounded boulder, rolled there by glaciers that had onc

storms, blazed down upon it. On the other side the forest grew dense and high like a

r the moment of the significance of his presence. He had been running fast in the forest, but now on this flinty and difficult ground he slackened his pace

when the hound came to this spot he stopped; he lifted his head and whiffed the rock the man had touched with his hand. Next, he reared up on the boulder and

loudly in the opening itself and more airily and sweetly between the ridge and the mountains beyond. In answer, from a mile behi

lpless. But for the dog, he could turn now, and the woods would swallow him up. In a flash an inspiration was bo

of a trail itself, but of the man who made the trail. He stopped and lifted his head. A moment he stared. Then he raised his grizzled muzzle

straight toward him. His hand was outstretched, his eyes were blazing, and there was a smile on his face. "Old Whisker

ep into his. They were commanding him, they were pleading, too. He ha

began to pant; the bay he would have uttered died in his throat. Another yell and another, still he did not reply. His tail was tucked now.

His world had turned about. Those were his enemies coming. All the loyalty of his dog's soul had gone out to this man who unders

the man wh

been repeated; the man saw in the eyes of the dog, trust, hum

id gently. "Old Gray

nded once clear and unmistakable sounded no more, though as they ran they filled the morning with their yells. They did not see

y, silently, into the undergrowth that grew densely

, they looked about at vacant woods. Frantically they searched the undergrowth, shotguns ready

evil killed the dog!" he cried. "He had a knife abo

pots, only to find a leaf killed by the sun and fa

ot," swore Simmons. "It

leaned his burly back against th

. The valleys lay in shadow, but far up in the enormous folds of the Tennessee mountains it

, as if with anticipation of to-morrow. Now and then he spoke. And behind him a great, st