The Sound and the Fury - William Faulkner.mobi [56]
“Got him, did ye, Anse?” he said.
“Got him, Squire.”
He opened a huge dusty book and drew it to him and dipped a foul pen into an inkwell filled with what looked like coal dust.
“Look here, mister,” Shreve said.
“The prisoner’s name,” the squire said. I told him. He wrote it slowly into the book, the pen scratching with excruciating deliberation.
“Look here, mister,” Shreve said. “We know this fellow. We——”
“Order in the court,” Anse said.
“Shut up, bud,” Spoade said. “Let him do it his way. He’s going to anyhow.”
“Age,” the squire said. I told him. He wrote that, his mouth moving as he wrote. “Occupation.” I told him. “Harvard student, hey?” he said. He looked up at me, bowing his neck a little to see over the spectacles. His eyes were clear and cold, like a goat’s. “What are you up to, coming out here kidnapping children?”
“They’re crazy, Squire,” Shreve said. “Whoever says this boy’s kidnapping——”
Julio moved violently. “Crazy?” he said. “Dont I catcha heem, eh? Dont I see weetha my own eyes——”
“You’re a liar,” Shreve said. “You never——”
“Order, order,” Anse said, raising his voice.
“You fellers shet up,” the squire said. “If they dont stay quiet, turn ’em out, Anse.” They got quiet. The squire looked at Shreve, then at Spoade, then at Gerald. “You know this young man?” he said to Spoade.
“Yes, your honor,” Spoade said. “He’s just a country boy in school up there. He dont mean any harm. I think the marshal’ll find it’s a mistake. His father’s a congregational minister.”
“H’m,” the squire said. “What was you doing, exactly?” I told him, he watching me with his cold, pale eyes. “How about it, Anse?”
“Might have been,” Anse said. “Them durn furriners.”
“I American,” Julio said. “I gotta da pape’.”
“Where’s the gal?”
“He sent her home,” Anse said.
“Was she scared or anything?”
“Not till Julio there jumped on the prisoner. They were just walking along the river path, towards town. Some boys swimming told us which way they went.”
“It’s a mistake, Squire,” Spoade said. “Children and dogs are always taking up with him like that. He cant help it.”
“H’m,” the squire said. He looked out of the window for a while. We watched him. I could hear Julio scratching himself. The squire looked back.
“Air you satisfied the gal aint took any hurt, you, there?”
“No hurt now,” Julio said sullenly.
“You quit work to hunt for her?”
“Sure I quit. I run. I run like hell. Looka here, looka there, then man tella me he seen him giva her she eat. She go weetha.”
“H’m,” the squire said. “Well, son, I calculate you owe Julio something for taking him away from his work.”
“Yes, sir,” I said. “How much?”
“Dollar, I calculate.”
I gave Julio a dollar.
“Well,” Spoade said. “If that’s all——I reckon he’s discharged, your honor?”
The squire didn’t look at him. “How far’d you run him, Anse?”
“Two miles, at least. It was about two hours before we caught him.”
“H’m,” the squire said. He mused a while. We watched him, his stiff crest, the spectacles riding low on his nose. The yellow shape of the window grew slowly across the floor, reached the wall, climbing. Dust motes whirled and slanted. “Six dollars.”
“Six dollars?” Shreve said. “What’s that for?”
“Six dollars,” the squire said. He looked at Shreve a moment, then at me again.
“Look here,” Shreve said.
“Shut up,” Spoade said. “Give it to him, bud, and let’s get out of here. The ladies are waiting for us. You got six dollars?”
“Yes,” I said. I gave him six dollars.
“Case dismissed,” he said.
“You get a receipt,” Shreve said. “You get a signed receipt for that money.”
The squire looked at Shreve mildly. “Case dismissed,” he said without raising