"Gone home. Gone home with the name
of every man present. Don't you see you'd have
to kill Old Man Withers too, if you killed me? And
then, HIS WIFE! And then--how many more?
"Do you see it widen--that pool of blood? Do
you see it spread and spread?"
He looked down at the floor, like he really seen
it there. He had 'em going now. They showed it.
"If you shed one drop," he went on, "you must
shed more. Can't you see it--widening and deep-
ening, widening and deepening, till you're wading
knee deep in it--till it climbs to your waists--till
it climbs to your throats and chokes you?"
It was a horrible idea, the way he played that
there pool of blood and he shuddered like he felt it
climbing up himself. And they felt it. A few men
can't kill a hull, dern county and get away with it.
The way he put it that's what they was up against.
"Now," says Colonel Tom, "what man among
you wants to start it?"
Nobody moved. He waited a minute. Still
nobody moved. They all looked at him. It was
awful plain jest where they would have to begin.
It was awful plain jest what it would all end up in.
And I guess when they looked at him standing there,
so fine and straight and splendid, it jest seemed
plumb unpossible to make a move. There was a
spirit in him that couldn't be killed.
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