we had to tell him
to make less noise. "I am eight months older than you are, and you know
it. Come on, boys."

Old Lim took hold of him. "This ain't altogether your picnic; the
invertations come from my house, and----"

"What the devil difference does it make?" the deputy spoke up. "I'm the
only officer present and I'll go first."

I thought that it was my time to act, and, telling them to follow me, I
reached the door almost at a stride and threw my full weight against it.
The door flew off its hinges and fell on the floor broad-side, and the
Aimes brothers, now seated at a table, were "covered" with guns and
pistols before they had time to stir in their chairs. They appeared to
be horror-stricken at seeing Alf and me, and in a moment their hands
were in the air.

"Josh," the deputy commanded, "bring us a plow line. Never mind, you
haven't time for that. Take off that bed cord."

The woman had squeezed herself into a corner, between a "cubbord" and
the wall, but she came out and protested against the use of her bed
cord. "Get that cord!" the deputy commanded. "Move that hand again,
Scott Aimes, and I'll kill you. Here we are," he added, when the negro
had tumbled off the bed-clothes and unfastened the cord. "Now cut it in
four pieces."

"Fur de Lawd's sake!" the woman shouted, "you ain' gwine treat er pusson
datter way, is you? Fust da cuts de banjo strings an' den yere come de
law an' cuts de bed cawd. Laws er massy whut got inter dis worl' no
how."

"Keep quiet," said the deputy. "Here, big man, tie their wrists and
don't be afraid of hurting them. I've had my eye on you gentlemen for
some time. That's it, give it to them hard. Tie their ankles, too. But
we have only four pieces of rope. Go now and get a plow-line, Josh."

We put back the table and the chairs and stood our prisoners in the
center of the room, sullen and coarse-featured brutes, and waited for
the negro to come with the plow-line, and presently he appeared with a
new grass rope. "That's just exactly what we want," said the deputy.
"Cut it in four pieces, and, big man," he continued, speaking to me, "I
must again call on you. Tight around the shank and no feelings
considered. That's it; you go at it in the right way--must have tied
chickens for the market. I must really beg pardon of these gentlemen for
not getting a warrant; we were pushed for time and, therefore, we are a
trifle irregular, but my dear sirs, I promise you that you shall have