True Grit Read Online Free

trial began as he was the main witness for the prosecution.

    I went to Stonehill's stock barn. He had a nice barn and behind it a big corral and a good many small feeder pens. The bargain cow ponies, around thirty head, all colors, were in the corral. I thought they would be broken-down scrubs but they were frisky things with clear eyes and their coats looked healthy enough, though dusty and matted. They had probably never known a brush. They had burrs in their tails.

    I had hated these ponies for the part they played in my father's death but now I realized the notion was fanciful, that it was wrong to charge blame to these pretty beasts who knew neither good nor evil but only innocence. I say that of these ponies. I have known some horses and a good many more pigs who I believe harbored evil intent in their hearts. I will go further and say all cats are wicked, though often useful. Who has not seen Satan in their sly faces? Some preachers will say, well, that is superstitious "claptrap." My answer is this: Preacher, go to your Bible and read Luke 8: 26-33.

    Stonehill had an office in one corner of the barn. On the door glass it said, "Col. G. Stonehill. Licensed Auctioneer. Cotton Factor." He was in there behind his desk and he had a red-hot stove going. He was a prissy baldheaded man with eyeglasses.

    I said, "How much are you paying for cotton?"

    He looked up at me and said, "Nine and a half for low middling and ten for ordinary."

    I said, "We got most of ours out early and sold it to Woodson Brothers in Little Rock for eleven cents."

    He said, "Then I suggest you take the balance of it to the Woodson Brothers."

    "We have sold it all," said I. "We only got ten and a half on the last sale."

    "Why did you come here to tell me this?"

    "I thought we might shop around up here next year, but I guess we are doing all right in Little Rock." I showed him the note from the sheriff. After he had read it he was not disposed to be so short with me.

    He took off his eyeglasses and said, "It was a tragic thing. May I say your father impressed me with his manly qualities. He was a close trader but he acted the gentleman. My watchman had his teeth knocked out and can take only soup."

    I said, "I am sorry to hear it"

    He said, "The killer has flown to the Territory and is now on the scout there."

    "This is what I heard."

    "He will find plenty of his own stamp there," said he. "Birds of a feather. It is a sink of crime. Not a day goes by but there comes some new report of a farmer bludgeoned, a wife outraged, or a blameless traveler set upon and cut down in a sanguinary ambuscade. The civilizing arts of commerce do not flourish there."

    I said, "I have hopes that the marshals will get him soon. His name is Tom Chaney. He worked for us. I am trying to get action. I aim to see him shot or hanged."

    "Yes, yes, well might you labor to that end," said Stonehill. "At the same time I will counsel patience. The brave marshals do their best but they are few in number. The lawbreakers are legion and they range over a vast country that offers many natural hiding places. The marshal travels about friendless and alone in that criminal nation. Every man's hand is against him there save in large part for that of the Indian who has been cruelly imposed upon by felonious intruders from the States."

    I said, "I would like to sell those ponies back to you that my father bought."

    He said, "I fear that is out of the question. I will see that they are shipped to you at my earliest convenience."

    I said, "We don't want the ponies now. We don't need them."

    "That hardly concerns me," said he. "Your father bought these ponies and paid for them and there is an end of it. I have the bill of sale. If I had any earthly use for them I might consider an offer but I have already lost money on them and, be assured, I do not intend to lose more. I will be happy to accommodate you in shipping them. The popular steamer Alice Waddell leaves tomorrow for