A Counterweight to Justice

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XL, Issue 19, 6 May 1908, Page 54

A Counterweight to Justice

By

EDWARD and GUSTAVE A. PEPLE.

PALF the town was laughing at the sheriff, and-the other half—well, the other half was laughing at him, too. It pleased him vastly. In the Weekly Clarion, beneath a highly unflattering wood-cut, had appeared a brief notice, as follows:

The existence for seventeen years of a Moonshiners’ Trust, known as Pine Top Still, has ceased to be a novelty, and casts a reflection upon the character of our iupocent and law abiding community. If, therefore, the gentleman whose excellent portrait we present - above expects another term of office, it behooveth him to play tag in the mountains, and make somebody “it.” This artice was not in itself calculated to arouse the town to merriment, but a flaunting advertisement in the same issue of the Clarion proved more fruitful: Drink Pine Top Rye SHERIFF BRAND Best and Cheapest Best because it is the best. Cheapest because we pay no revenue. The editor of the Clarion was a new editor, and received the advertisement fey two reasons: because kgown peya^t-had paid good cjnoney for it* insert ton; ’•’Sbcond, because'lie kno<iy-» neither the history of the illicit still nor the sensitive “disposition of the sheriff. When informed- by a friend, howr ever, that’said sheriff was coming over to explain both, the edjtor made a hasty visit to relatives in the north, and stayed there -which was wise. rThe sheriff, 1 disappointed at the absence of his prey, his sixshooters and sat moodily on his own front porch. He was a tall gaunt man . of forty-five years, all muscle and seriousness; a hard grey eye and an aggressive little tuft of wiry whiskers on the point of his chin emphasized each the other’s ferocity. Twice in his life he had been known to laugh, hut both eruptions were caused by precocious remarks of his own infants—which is no proof of humour in any man.

For twenty years he had served his township faithfully. Ho had a clean record, and scars to prove it, with the one exception of his failure to locate and land in jail the proprietor of Pine Top Still. Many revenue officers had also tried their hands; but. in spite of a sending reward of five thousand dollars, Jline Top illicit rye continued to trickle through the veins of North Carolina.

, The sheriff, too, spent most of his spare time in the mountains; but, to employ his own inelegant phraseology, he “raked them hills with a fine toothcomb an' never found a nit.” He was thinking of all these things, as he. now idly on his front porch, when a stranger cauie up and accosted him: , “Mornin', sher’i! Collins is hiy name — Sam Collins. I’m fo’man up to the Pine top Still. Naw—wait a minute—stack ver gun. I'm talkin’ business.”

J H<* was a little scrap of a man with Shifty little rat* eyes and the general ,hu*ke up of a crafty, conscienceless little l'he sheriff eyed him suspicious'fy. and slid his weapon into its holster. ; “What’s your gallic?” he ask*;d.

V “Why. simply this,” said t)ie st/anger, taking a seatOn the porch step and fanllliiiig himself' with Iris hat; “the gang Jfnas all gone over to the Country Fair frfjT to see the races, an* cf you want to .icoop in the still, to-night’s a mighty ’H>Weulthy time to do it. I’m probably the Anlies* Aia'ti what can show .y\ui the .way, but the Question is: What’s it wuth to

‘■'How much d'ye want?” asked the sheriff- cautiously. » • • ■ “Oh, not much,” said Collins, selecting a juicy grass blade and nibbling on it. “1 wants the right of State’s evidence, of co’se, an’ fer the res’. I’ll take in that five thousand reward.” “Half," said the sheriff, with a snap of his iron jaw. The stranger arose, replaced his hat, smiled an adieu and crossed the dusty road; then he sat down under a tree and began to read the last issue of the Weekly Clarion, with evident 1 enjoyment. The sheriff cursed softly and went over to him. “Look a-here,” he began, “what’s yer objeck in turnin’ traitor?” “That there’s my business," cooed the informant. “Ef you wants to break up the still, that’s your business. You got my offer. Take it or leave it. The revenue fellers’ll have the same priv’lege." Whereupon Collins seemed to forget the presence of an officer of the law, for he tilted his head on one side and regarded the woodcut in the Clarion critically.

“Drop it!" commanded the sheriff, got my limits. talk." y; The stranger pocketed his nriwspjiper,' selected another grass blade and opened negotiations. v. 'V ? \ i“.Yqii ' ’.see, itx’s this a-way. sThert woitfVVe’ nobody ujr'to the still to-night; ’cept a bl’ darky an’ the boss. You can take yer posse with you, break up the outfit an’ ketch the res’ of the gang when they comes back from the fair to-morrer. It’s easier’n lyin', an’ I’ll show you where to trap ’em.” The sheriff looked from Collins to the blue line of mountain top’s twenty mites distant.

“It sounds all right,” he agreed; “but how'm I to know that you ain’t steerin’ me into a hornets’ nest?” “Well,” returned Collins, with a careless shrug of his little flat shoulders, “you’ll have me as gilt-edge collateral. I'll go with yom—totin’ no weepins—an’ ef you ain't satisfied, you can blow a hole in me. A man don’t flirt with them blue babies o’ your’n jes’ fer the fun of it. Well, what you say?” For five long minutes the sheriff gazed thoughtfully toward the distant mountain range which for seventeen years had hidden the Pine Top Still, then he stretched out his hard, lean hand. That night at one o’clock, accompanied by twelve sworn deputies, he'picked up the informant at the cross-roads and rode toward the foot-hills. For ten miles the going was easy, then they struck the steeper ascents, and the horses wore tethered in a grove while'the posse went forward on foot. :After several miles of stiff climbing, a halt was called; not only for a hasty breakfast. but to wait for the light, since the trail had now become too dangerous to follow in the darkness. ' “Look a-herp,” snapped the sheriff, .turning to Collins suddenly, “d’ye mean to tell me that you haul yer moonsliipe whisky down a hell-t’-split goat-path like this here?” “Naw,” returned Collins carelessly, as he swallowed half a biscuit and wjjipd his mouth with the back of his hand. “The’juice gets to the valley by a pipe line, an’ we dump the grain down a chute ’crost the saddle of the mountain.” s | “You gotter prove that later,” growjed the sheriff, “or somethin’ else bagjms grain’ll g<;t .dumped , down that latere saddle-back. Come 'long, boys, it's gittiu' iqfht,” -

And now the real labour of the undertaking began. The posse and their guide clambered over boulders, dipped into tangled ravines, and worked upward again by the aid of projecting roots and stunted pines. Sometimes the trail led directly along the face of the cliff, where the men were forced to cling like flies, with scarce a foothold between them and the mist-wreathed chasms far below; and thus they scrambled on, slowly, laboriusly, till the sun began to peep across the mountain range. They struck a tumbling creek which bore a telltale taint of rye-marsh, and following it for half a mile, came upon a wide and beautiful waterfall. Without warning, Collins dived through it and disappeared. The sheriff loosened one blue baby and dived after him, and. in a way, was disappointed to find him waiting complacently on the farther side. Here the rest of the posse joined them immediately; wet, suspicious, and profanely critical; and the journey was taken up again, leading through the mouth of a narrow cave, where the men were forced to stoop, and ice-cold water ran ankle-deep. “Sher’f,” said Collins, his voice sounding strangely hollow and sepulchral in the gloomy cavern, “this here’s a mighty good place fer to ketch the gang when they come ’long home from the fair.” '•

“Bully”’ agreed' the sheriff grimly; “an’ a mighty durn good place fer the gang to ketch we all—now!”

He laid the muzzle of one of the previosly mentioned blue infants in the hollow of Mr. Collins’ neck, and proceeded cautiously. Soon light was seen aread, and the posse emerged into a wide valley with rocky, precipitous sides. This, the guide informed them, was the last stage of the journey; then he led them into a bisecting cleft which seemed to run toward the very heart of the mountains. The path lay along a dried-, up watercourse, so narrow at its bottom that the men were forced to walk single file, but widening as the rocky walls sheared away above their heads. For thirty paces they traversed this cleft, silent, alert; then, rounding a boulder, came into full view of the moonshiners’, snug retreat. A broad, fertile valley it was, set in a pocket among the towering peaks—as safe a nest as though it lay hidden in the bowels of the earth. In the centre of cultivated fields, surrounded by a grove of pines, sat half a dozen rough log cabins, all seemingly unoccupied save the largest of the lot, from the chimney of which blue smoke was curling. The sheriff whispered to his men, ordered a wide detour, and approached this cabin stealthily, in the hope of taking its occupants unawares. All went well until they came within twenty feet of their destination, then some born fool sneezed. Around the edge of the cabin doorway appeared the frightened face of

an aged negro. It vanished instantly, and in its place slid the muzzle of a rusty musket.

There was a roar, a curse, the whine of a huge bullet frolicking away among the rocks—arid the sheriff sat up, babbling foolishly. In a moment he caught his grip again, brushed the blood from a little furrow in his scalp, and charged into the cabin, bent on professional trouble. Inside the door he came upon his would-be murderer, nursing a bruised shoulder and muttering half-chanted prayers, but beyond, in the dining-room, he got the surprise of his life. Seated at a table, calmly engaged in buttering butter-cakes, was the largest lady in the Uniter States outside of a circus side-show. Had she consented to the test, she would have tipped the scales at over four hundred; as the sheriff afterward described her, under oath: .

“She was jes’ whopping, all over. She had four chins, the lady had, an' a beam that put me in min’ of the blank end of a barn.” This description, though a trifle unpolished, was spread upon tho court records, attested by twelve eyewitnesses.

“Lady," said the sheriff, entering the dining-room. waving a pair of buns, in the jnanner of a prizefighter sparring for an opening; “wher’s the boss ?”....

“I’m .her,” replied the lady-in question, smiling affably. “Set down an’ hev some breakfus’.” •

“You!” gasped the sheriff, his mouth going open slowly, till his chin concealed the absence of a necktie. “You!”

“Sure,” nodded the lady, watching the leisurely flow of syrup on her battercakes. “I’ve run this still ever sence my husban’ was took off, seven years ago, with yaller jandiss. Set down an’ hev some cakes while they’s hot* won’t you? Mrs. Gooney's my name—Maria Gooney—an’ from the way you corrie prancin’ in jes’ now I suspicion that You’re the sheriff.”

“Yes’m,” said that officer meekly, when the widow paused for breath. She caught it immediately, and resumed: “I've be’n expectin’ of you for quite a spell. Right smart of a climb up here ain’t it? You know—have a seat, sheriff, do— I haven’t left this place sence I firs’ come to it, seventeen pears ago, when Gooney an’ me got married I wan’t nothin’ but jes’ a slip of a girl then. Ninety-four poun’s I weighed—in my nightgown. You wouldn’t hardly believe that, now, would you?"

The sheriff looked his doubts, to the point of impoliteness. You’ve growed some,” he murmureduon-eommittally, and lapsed into sheepish silence. Mrs. Gooney continued eating battercakes. Presently she looked up, with a pathetic little smile which, completely hid her eyes in two dpep creases. “Yes,” she sighed.: “I've, took on right smart flesh. Why. not one of the boys can hop me acrost a ditch, though

none of em’ ain’t so powerful built as you.” Receiving no answer, she ate more batter-cakes, and tried again. “I reckon you-“all come up for to bust my whisky still all to Hinders. It’ll cost me a heap to buy another one as good as that. You couldn’t manage jes’ to batter it up a little an’ .leave it, could you?” , The sheriff blushed, and muttered an inarticulate something about painful official duty. This recalled the object of his visit, while an audible snicker revealed the fact that twelve sworn deputies, from various points of vantage, were watching the proceedings from various points of humorous delight; so he cursed them earnestly and got down' to business.

Taking- the aged negro as guide, they started off in search of the distillery; but they had scarcely left the cabin when the ear of the sheriff detected a swish of skirts. Running to the back door, he was surprised to note the widow Gooney indulging in a waddling though astonishingly speedy dash toward the cliffs. The posse, to a man, gave chase; but the sheriff, whose legs were longest, was the first to capture the fair one, rather ungallantly, by the slack of her fluttering skirt.

“Tryin’ to warn yer gang, air you?” growled that officer, his diffidence now gone, and in its place the grimness of the law.

"Yes, I am,” said the widow, crying softly; ‘‘an’ ef I can help it you’ll never ketch ’em, neither!” She meant it, too; so the sheriff, resorted to drastic measures. Leading his prisoner back into the cabin, he bound her securely tb a' bench, and 'tied her plump and dimpled hands' behind her back: then, leaving young Charley Steffins on guard duty, he went in search of the still.

This establishment was not difficult to locate, for it ’sat in full view of the cabin, not more than a hundred rods distant, on |he bend of the little mountain stream.' In aroomy shed was found a perfect set of apparatus for the distillation of liquor?—boilers, retorts, copper pahs’and the glistening copper worm, all scrupulously neat and in working order. They demolished it with axes then turned their attention to the storage vats, staving 1 them in and allowing their precious ’ contents 1 to' inebriate the mountaiW' l .stream. They also discovered the pipe' line leading into the valley below, and the grain-chute running from the mountain’s saddle-back; these they destroyed-as far as possible, to the honour and satisfaction of the law.

Returning to the cabin and glancing casually through the window thereof, the sheriff ,was vastly astonished to find young Charley Steffins seated on the bench beside the buxom widow, kissing her shamelessly, to the evident enjoyment of the parties of the first and second parts, respectively, to wit. In his official discharge of duty, the sheriff kicked Charley repeatedly and hard, whereat the sympathetic lady criticised his actions as brutality in the first degree. “I think you’re real’ ungent'manly,” she pouted, tossing her dumpling head, “Besides, ’twan’t my fault, nohow ’cauge my hands is tied. Didn’t you hear me hollerin’?”* “No,” snapped the sheriff, “I didn’t! Now, you keep still!” Mrs. Gooney giggled; then looked up coyly. “You ain’t jealous, air you, Mr. Sheriff?” “No, I ain’t!” Stated that officer, witK discourteous‘positiveness; but the lady, unabashed,"Went oh: “Well, Imr powerful glad of it, ’cause jealousy is ■'£ ornery trait- of "character, anyhow’! That's what made Sam Collins tell you about iny still—the nasty little sawed-off shotef”'‘ The sheriff made* no answer, and 'Mrs; Gooney resumed: “Oh, T seen him, all right, though he did try to ebver: tihis rat-face with his handkercher. I thought wunst of marryin’ that po’ little miserbul runt, but I’m glad 'now I didn’t. You see, I kind of favoured Jimmy Hockley, an’ Sam got mad. Men's funny things, come to think of it. Air you a married man, Mr. Sheriff?”

“Six chiHrrh,” said that officer evasively. “Why?”' ' f "Oh, nothin’,”'Sighed the widoW; “jes’ thinkin’.” ’■ ■

The sheriff left her flunking, set, a guard at tip- month of the eave, which was the only outlet to the galley, ail’d began to wait patiently for the ’ (-eturn •f the Pipe/fop Sfiji gang from tnp fyir.

The sheriff was troublfel. fie dare not leave Mrs. Gooney al<Ae, for fear she would, in some sly way, warn her returning employees. After his experience with Charley Steffins, he did not care to leave her in charge of one of his deputies, all of whom were young and flighty; for the widow, in spite of her weight and roly-polyness, was extremely pretty. On the other hand, the sheriff had a wife at home, who flatly refused to comprehend his association with other females, even in business or in the sacred name of the law. Nevertheless, the sheriff set his iron jaw, and placed him-, self on guard. He untied her fair hands and ate dinner with her; then he tied her up again,-and watched her through the long hot afternoon. She talked to him till his mind grew wavy, and streams of weary perspiration trickled from every pore; but his record was clean, at last ; and so he bore his troubles, after the manner of the Roman sentinel roasted at Pompeii. “Mr. Sheriff,” said the widow, after an unusual pause; ‘‘my nose is itchin’ mighty bad —lef’ side. Would you mind obligin’ me by scratchin’ of it?” The sheriff sighed, glanced out of the window to see that he was unobserved, and did his duty according to his lights. "Thank you,” said the widow; “you’re real gentle, for a man. Now, for a little pinch under my right shoulder-blade.” She looked up at him coyly, inviting further gentle ministries; but after the pinching the sheriff returned to his post, and sat gazing out into the sunlit world?' Most of his men were guarding the entrance to the valley, while several others, in charge of the widow's negro servant, were gathered about the demolished still; and so the long day wore away at last; twilight came creeping, slowly down the hills, and the weary sheriff nodded at his post. Suddenly, out of the tail of her eye, the widow spied a deputy running up the valley, but she gave no sign. “Mr. Sheriff,” she said, with a mighty yawn; “it’s powerful nigh to supper time. Jes’ call my nigger, will you—and we’ll have a snack?”

Eph was too far away to call, and the sheriff, hesitated.

“All right,” Mrs. Gooney- pouted. . “I see you don’t trust me, none, at all. But you needn’t leave me. ’Jes pull that belhcord over by the window', an’ Eph’ll come tqreckly.” < . . The sheriff, too, had begun to feel more than a trifle hungry; go he‘‘rose to do her, bidding, with the e.agerness of a healthy man. If, however, he expected to hear a cheerful tinkle, lip was vgry much mistaken; for the cabin trembled, then rocked to the crash of a heavy charge of dynamite exploded among the cliffs. Too late, he saw his deputy come running up the valley; too late, he saw the crafty Mrs. Gooney laughing till the cabin trembled again with her mirth. “Thank you, Mr. Sheriff,” she said between her paroxysms; “you’ve warned the boys, an’ I’m mighty much obliged to you.”

— — — ,” observed the sheriff soulfully, and had the widow’s dimpled hands had not been tied, she would have placed' them on her ears. Nothing now was left but to wait for morning and return to town, mtaus the moonshiner gang of malefactors, with the exception of one as big and round as the very, moon itself; so they locked the boss in her cabin, mounted guard at doors and windows and, waited patiently. In the morning a start was made, but trouble confronted them at the very outset. The widow refused to go. .“All right,” growled the sheriff roughly; “then we’ll ca —” He paused, eyeing Mrs. Gdoney’s proportions doubtfully. To carry this baby elephant down a hell-t’-split goat-path” was not an undertaking to be~ lightly considered, so .the sheriff worked his inventive genius, and hit upon a plan. In the grain-bin he caught a mouse, tied a string to its tail, and held it toward the widow meaningly. She walked. This was the most discourteous thing the officer had yet done, and the lady said so, shrilly and without equivocation; but the sheriff only grinned. He could turn her to right or left by a cor"responding movement of the- wriggling mouse; and the triumph of the novelty was so pleading to his vanity that, for the third tune in his life, he laughed. The party reached the . eleft at the valldy’s nloutfli, and encountered the second obstacle. By no possibility could the pri*6ijer get through this narrow ’ pass,' unless she went in sections- Once more tjic sheriff spoke in blank verse and worked his inventive genins. The posse Maa set 'to jcuttjng pine bouglis, which

they threw into the cleft, raising its bottom to a sufficient height to admit of the hefty Mrs. Cooney’s passage between its shearing walls. This work consumed several hours, during which the mouse was lost; but the witling gentlemen pulled her in front and Imosled her from behind, until the fair one mounted the wobbly and uncertain path. At the farther end, the sheriff slipped. He was leading Mrs, Gooney, who, naturally, slipped also, and fortunately —from her point of view—employed the officer of the law as an unsympathetic buffer when she landed on terra firma. ‘Dammer!” roared the sheriff, whose head alone protruded from beneath the ample person of Mrs. Gooney; she done it a-purpose! Puller off!” Now, somehow, this seemed to amuse the widow vastly, for she laughed till the rocky hills resounded with her merriment. This was bad. When the widow laughed, she shook; when she shook, she settled: and when she settled, it added to the sheriff’s happiness. It added also to his peaceful frame of mind; and when finally rescued, he offered to make bloody the nose of any qualified descendant of brute creation who considered smiling a healthy pastime. Therefore, the posse inarched solemnly to the mouth of the cave through which they must pass to roach the town, and encountered the third obstacle.

The cave, at a casual glance, was far too tight a fit to accommodate the lady’s net dimensions, for even at its widest point she nestled like a cartridge in a gun. One idiot suggested that they try her sidewise.

“She ain’t got none,” observed a local wit; whereupon, because of the ancientness of the jest, another deputy smote him with a pistol butt, quite deservedly. The posse looked at one another in silent consternation. The sheriff expressed himself as one who talks aloud in a, beautiful, vivid drcam.

“My!” said Mrs. Gooney, clapping her hands upon her ears; “this ain’t no fitten comp’ny for any lady, an’ I’m goin’ home.” “Hi yi!” exclaimed Eph, in characteristic negro humour, and retreated

out of range of the sheriff’s hard brown fist.

Suddenly it dawned upon the sheriQ why the widow Gooney had, of her owl volition, remained for seventeen years in the valley. It dawned upon him, also that there she would remain till death; e.nless, indeed, she bant frightfully or left in some specially built balloon. Before leaving, however, he did two things—unofficially. He gallantly helped the widow Gooney back over the path of pine boughs through the cleft; then he thrashed Sam Collins soundly, on general principles, and felt better therefor, both in body and in mind.

“Good-by!” called the ponderous Mrs. Gooney, from beyond the cleft. “When you all come up again, I hope you’ll do it sociable. An’ I’m much obliged for breakin’ up that still. We was goin’ out of business, anyhow.” On the following day the township foregathered, to hear the evidence, while the sheriff' showed cause before the learned court why his office should still be his. At the mention of the widow Gooney’s personal charms, the sheriff’s wife rose up and challenged the sworn testimony of thirteen eye-witnesses. The learned court suppressed her, and a foolish revenue officer presumed to laugh; whereat the virtuous sheriff waited upon him after court adjourned and thrashed him, unofficially. Two days later, there journeyed to the mountains a second party, composed of several town officials, the sheriff, five agents for Uncle Sam, and' two civil engineers—these latter gentlemen being employed to compute the cost of blasting away sufficient slices of the mountain to allow one Missus Gooney to be haled justice.

They weighed that lady by the process of mental arithmetic, figured her displacement as compared to the estimated cost of uprooting four miles of rock, and presented figures which made the committee curse.

“Now, look a-here,” suggested the venerable justice of the peace, “s’posin’ we demand a good hot dinner in the form o’ bail, an’ bind Sis’ Gooney over fer to keep the peace. She kin swear on oath

o stay where she’s at right now, till subpeenered by the cote.” “All right,” agreed the corpulent widow cheerfully. *‘Ef you’ll wait half a hour, I’ll cook you a dinner what’ll make you set up an’ forgit yo’ mothers. An’ say, ef any of you gent’men wants to wet yo’ whistles some, I reckon you won’t be forced to drink spring water, neither.”

Three minutes later the earnest committee foregathered about the cabin door in spiritual convocation.

“Here’s lookin’ at yer!” cackled tho venerable justice of the peace solemnly, and Uncle Sam’s five agents responded sheepishly. “Here’s to Missus Gooney!” toasted a limber-conscienced officer of the sacred law; then he wiped his eyes, for the juice of the rye was green. (End.)