.

Mrs. Moulton now came on the scene. She still had her husband, and she
frantically called on her friends to prevent further bloodshed. The
greater number of the men, while unwilling to criticize Crabtree for his
dastardly murder, did not care to add to the Cherokees' anger, and they
took sides with Davis. I believed the whole affair had ended, but Crabtree
was crafty, and he caused fresh fear by reminding them:

"You folks are fools to let the only witnesses to that dawg's death git
away and take word back to the Cherokees. If Morris hadn't took a hand
there wouldn't 'a' been that danger."

Many settlers were long used to classifying the red men with the wild
animals along the border. Therefore, the question of killing the two
fleeing Cherokees became a matter of policy, rather than of sentiment. But
Davis, although he wavered, finally declared he would have none of it. He
reminded his friends that they would soon be called by Dunmore to march
against the Ohio tribes, and that it would not do to leave hostile
Cherokees behind them to attack the valleys. Hacker, Runner, Scott and
Crabtree perceived that the settlers were opposed to further bloodshed,
but Crabtree still had a card to play. Turning to Baby Kirst, who was
staring intently down on the dead man, he suddenly cried:

"Sweet sugar, Baby, if you ride and find two Injuns just gone away."

And he pointed in the direction taken by the man and woman. With a yelp of
juvenile delight Baby slapped his horse and rode away down the valley.

"Now you've done it!" growled Davis, scowling blackly at Crabtree. "You've
made trouble atween us and the Cherokees, and you've drove away the best
defense against Injuns we could 'a' had."

"I don't have to have no loose-wit to stand 'tween me and Injuns," sneered
Crabtree.

"You're better at killing unarmed Indians than in putting up a real
fight," I accused. "You're not fond of traveling very far from a
settlement when you draw blood. Shelby Cousin was telling me down on the
Cheat that you like to be near a white man's cabin when you make a kill."

His sallow face flushed red, but he had no harsh words to say against
young Cousin. Without replying to me he made for the Davis cabin to get
something to eat, leaving Cherokee Billy for others to bury. I noticed it
was the Widow McCabe, with her slate-gray eyes half-closed and gleaming
brightly, who waited on Crabtree and heaped his plate with food.

What with the interrupti