[Multignometerm-bugs] El French, and why he will not tell his side of the quarrel between himself and Mr. Fett

[Hamasaki <han...@co...>]

Ks, I'll be outer here in half a' hour; dey'll go my bail." "They can't
go yo' bail to-night, fer the squire's gone home. I'll bring you some
bread and meat, an' some whiskey if you want it, and you'll be tried
to-morrow mornin'." Old Peter still protested. "You niggers are always
kickin'," said the constable, who was not without a certain grim sense
of humour, and not above talking to a Negro when there were no white
folks around to talk to, or to listen. "I never see people so hard to
satisfy. You ain' got no home, an' here I've give' you a place to sleep,
an' you're kickin'. You doan know from one day to another where you'll
git yo' meals, an' I offer you bread and meat and whiskey--an' you're
kickin'! You say you can't git nothin' to do, an' yit with the prospect
of a reg'lar job befo' you to-morrer--you're kickin'! I never see the
beat of it in all my bo'n days." When the constable, chuckling at his
own humour, left the guardhouse, he found his way to a nearby barroom,
kept by one Clay Jackson, a place with an evil reputation as the resort
of white men of a low class. Most crimes of violence in the town could
be traced to its influence, and more than one had been committed within
its walls. "Has Mr. Turner been in here?" demanded Haines of the man in
charge. The bartender, with a backward movement of his thumb, indicated
a door opening into a room at the rear. Here the constable found his
man--a burly, bearded giant, with a red face, a cunning eye and an
overbearing manner. H