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I mind the fust thing Mitch Gullen said when he looked at Ross Murphy Murdock was: “Some woman who loved him done it. She was sorry she done it and laid him out with loving-kindness. That’s plain as daylight!”

Well, sir, I jest looked at Mitch like he was plumb daft.

“Sheriff,” says I, “no woman never loved Ross Murphy Murdock exceptin’ maybe his old mother, who’s been dead twenty year. Ross Murphy Murdock was the meanest, oneriest, no-count cuss thet ever lived in Bushwhacker. Why, Sheriff,” says I, “anyone will tell you thet Ross Murphy’s own hound dogs never follered him inter town. They alius hung back in the bushes, bein’ ashamed to own to him afore them tother dogs.”

Mitch Gullen, he’d had G-man expeerience.

“Who’s handling this case, you or me?” he says smart-aleck.

Jest then a Bushwhacker red-hog gave a snort in a fence corner an’ one of them fool deputies cut loose with thet machine gun. Well, sir, I laughed right smart.

Disregardin’ my advice was only the fust big mistake Mitch made. His secont blunder come when he insisted on movin’ the body afore half the folks in Bushwhacker could get to the scene. It created a lot of hard feeling among the folks thet lived in Skunk Crick community ’way back in the hills. Arter all, this was the biggest murder case Bushwhacker had ever seed; ’twouldn’t’ve done no harm to give everybody a good look at Ross Murphy Murdock.

Howsomever, Mitch, he was the sheriff, an’ he wouldn’t listen to reason. He gathered up thet cross an’ hymnbook an’ piller an’ tarpaulin — the best clues — and allowed he’d send ’em down to Saint Looey fer G-men to examine fer fingerprints. Son, have you ever handled a Bushwhacker Baptist hymnbook thet’s been used hard? It ain’t nothin’ but fingerprints. Let alone thet old piece of tarpaulin.

We-ell, Mitch sent his best clues off to Saint Looey an’ then he went to work on his love theory. It taken him two hard days to find out thet back in ’16 Ross Murphy Murdock had cuffed Missus Cowdray allowin’ she owed him four bits fer sassage meat; an’ thet summer before last Murdock had been give a pistol-whupping fer trying to cheat the Widder Spencer on a red-hog swap. Thet was the sum an’ substance of Ross Murphy Murdock’s love relations with women.

Even Mitch Gullen could finally see thet he was off on the wrong foot. So he up an’ allows thet some man-enemy of Ross Murphy Murdock shot him in the back an’ then laid him out to make it look like a woman done it. Mitch an’ his deputies rounds up thutty-odd near an’ far neighbors of Ross Murphy Murdock an’ hauls them over to Troy fer questioning. Word got out thet Mitch was aimin’ fer to third-degree the boys; all their womenfolks went along to see it, an’ Troy looked like the old Lincoln County Fair days.

Mitch questioned Sim Sime Bowcock as his fust suspect. Sim Sime retained me as his attunney.

“Mr. Bowcock,” says Mitch, “did you ever threaten to kill Ross Murphy Murdock?”

“Yep,” says Sim Sime, afore I can stop him, “I ’pinely did. I threatened the no-good feller eight or nine times — might’ve been ten.”

“Why did you threaten him?”

“Don’t answer,” says I, doing my legal duty.

“Shucks, Sheriff,” says Sim Sime, “any man thet’s a man in Bushwhacker has threatened to kill Ross Murphy Murdock. He was pizen mean — he kicked dogs.”

“Did you shoot Mr. Murdock?”

Sim Sime hangs his head, ashamed.

“Nope,” says he, “I aimed to but I jest never got around to it. I reckon I’m kind of shiffless.”

The secont suspect was Joe Tuck. I acted as Joe’s pussonal attunney likewise. But the dern’ fool went right ahead an’ incriminated hisself.

“Yep, Sheriff,” says Joe Tuck, “I shorely did tell Mister Murdock I’d kill him. He ruint my best patch of possum-timber, a-settin’ bee-traps in it on the sly.”

“Where was you the night of the murder?”

“Don’t answer thet,” says I, sharp.

Joe Tuck shuffled his feet.

“I was whur no married man ought to’ve been,” says Joe Tuck, “an’ on account of it I plumb missed the sight of Ross Murphy Murdock in thet gully.”

The upshot of the questioning come to the fact thet out of some thutty men all but three allowed they’d threatened to kill Ross Murphy Murdock. Their reasons was manifold an’ various, but their regret fer not makin’ good their threats was unanimous. Old man Stump Wheelock was one of the three thet allowed they’d never threatened to kill Ross Murphy.

“I was aimin’ to shoot the feller some day soon, Sheriff,” says old man Stump Wheelock, “but I don’t believe in threatenin’ a man aforehand. ’Tain’t Christian to cause a man to worry under sech sarcumstances.”

Mitch Gullen got hot under the collar. “You trying to make fim of me?” he yells.

“Don’t answer on advice of counsel,” says I.

Old man Stump Wheelock taken my advice. It got Mitch Gullen so riled up he refused to question Johnny Durvupp. Pore Johnny taken it right hard; he lived near neighbor to Ross Murphy Murdock an’ he thought he deserved some consideration. I reckon Mitch was within his rights, though. Johnny Durvupp never was right bright an’ had the repertation for bein’ the laziest white man in Bushwhacker.

“I’m a taxpayer an’ I voted fer Mister Mitch Gullen,” Johnny complained. “He’s got no call to slight me thisaway.” Some of the boys boughten him a sorghum-beer ice-cream sody an’ hushed him up.

Whut say? Wasn’t they any arrests made? Yep. Sartainly.

A passel of gossipy Pike County women told Mitch thet Bijah Yackey, third youngest son of Cunningham Yackey, had good reason to kill Ross Murphy Murdock. It appeared like Bijah was sweet on Pearlina Murdock, who was Ross Murphy’s secont cousin. Pearlina’s folks an’ Ross Murphy hadn’t spoke fer eight year, but jest the same Ross Murphy taken upon hisself to warn Pearlina agin Bijah. Pearlina sassed Ross Murphy Murdock at a basket dinner an’ then Ross Murphy and Bijah tangled. The women said Bijah swore ’pinely he’d kill Ross Murphy fer tryin’ to turn Pearlina agin him.

Whut say? Why did Ross Murphy object to Bijah? We-ell, Bijah Yackey was a harmonica player an’ a dancer an’ a gal-sparker. It did make a fairly reasonable motive fer the quarrel. Anyway, Mitch Gullen arrested Bijah Yackey an’ th’owed his pants inter jail charged with fust-degree murder.

Pearlina Murdock come to my justice-of-the-peace office in Eolia a-cryin’ her purty eyes out.

“The sheriff put Bijah in jail, Jedge,” she says, “an’ Mister Cunningham Yackey won’t lift a finger to help him. You’re the finest legal mind in Pike County,” she says, “an’ you’re Bijah’s only hope. Will you take the case?”

We-ell, son, I knowed my fee would be right dubious if old man Cunningham had turned agin his own boy. Pearlina Murdock had all her worldly goods an’ chattels on her own back, an’ her folks had owed me a veter’nary bill since the good days durin’ the war. But true love has alius made a plumb fool of me an’ a purty gal’s tears weakens an old man’s sensible resolutions. I taken the case.

I an’ Pearlina druv down to Troy in my car. On the way I asked Pearlina if Bijah reelly had kilt Ross Murphy Murdock. Knowin’ your client is guilty alius helps an attunney plan a good defense.

Pearlina busted out a-cryin’ again.

“Bijah allows he never done it,” she told me, “but Mister Cunningham Yackey thinks he did. Mister Cunningham Yackey is plumb out of patience with Bijah for shootin’ Cousin Ross in the back. He says Bijah should rest a spell in jail on general principles.”

“Do you think the boy is guilty?”

“I’m powerful a-feared he is, Jedge,” she sobs.

When I an’ the gal reached the Lincoln County jail, the hull Yackey family was a-settin’ in the yard. Bijah’s six brothers was a-chawin’ grass, and old man Cunningham Yackey was rared back a-talkin’ to Sheriff Mitch Gullen.