By John W. Wilson
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Extra resources for High John the Conqueror
He left the kitchen, and Ruby Lee stood where she had moved when he asked her not to crowd him. She heard the bed creak as he sat down on the edge of it. She heard his shoes hit the floor and heard him throw his shirt and pants onto a chair. The bed creaked again as he stretched his body out on it. Ruby Lee leaned over and blew out the light, then she padded silently on her bare feet through the darkened house. She went out to the front porch again and sat in her rocker. It was all of thirty minutes later before she heard Cleveland start breathing deep, snoring occasionally.
Little Suster sat on the sack of corn nubbins, and Vincent and Cleveland hung their legs over the side of the wagon. Hoodoo ran along behind for a while, then got on the coupling pole and rode. They made the trip to town in good time, though the mules had walked slowly in the beginning. Crossing Spring Creek, their hoofs had rung hollowly on the bridge, and during the long pull out of the bottoms the family had ridden quietly, with only Bully speaking to the mules occasionally, or clicking Page 20 his tongue at them as they strained up the winding hill road before they turned on to the main road to town.
He had been all right until Buddy Boy stopped him. "I told you to watch out, Buddy Boy," he said. " He was waiting for Buddy Boy's fist and he caught it on his arm. He pushed in, his feet shuffled him forward, and his hand went out to get Buddy Boy by the throat of his shirt. Buddy Boy pumped his arms, and his fists thudded into Cleveland's ribs, but Cleveland came on. His left hand twisted tighter in Buddy Boy's shirt front; his right hand dived into his pocket and grasped the long-bladed knife.
High John the Conqueror by John W. Wilson