The Heritage of Dedlow Marsh and Other Tales Part 19

It was ME who done it. I went for him in a mean underhanded way jest now, when he hadn't a weppin nor any show to defend himself. We gripped. He got a holt o' my derringer--you see that's MY pistol there, I swear it--and turned it agin me in self-defense, and sarved me right. I swear to G.o.d, gentlemen, it's so!" Catching sight of my face, he looked at me, I fancied half imploringly and half triumphantly, and added, "I might hev knowed it! I allers allowed Lacy Ba.s.sett was game!--game, gentlemen--and he was. If it's my last word, I say it--he was game!"

And with this devoted falsehood upon his lips and something of the old canine instinct in his failing heart, as his head sank back he seemed to turn it towards Ba.s.sett, as if to stretch himself out at his feet.

Then the light failed from his yearning upward glance, and the curse of foolishness was lifted from him forever.

So conclusive were the facts, that the coroner's jury did not deem it necessary to detain Mr. Ba.s.sett for a single moment after the inquest.

But he returned to Gilead, married Polly Baxter, and probably on the strength of having "killed his man," was unopposed on the platform next year, and triumphantly elected to the legislature!