"Naw, I ain't lyin'! I'm aimin' to turn out some first-rate
whiskey and roll in big money doin' it!" Mister Ward grinned and
let his clenched fist unfold so he could push his hair up from
his eyes. His fat, sweaty face was as red as his hair.
"Don't you know somebody'll turn you in so quick it'll make
your head swim? Folks in this settlement ain't gonna allow no
whiskey-making!"
Mister Ward spit out a wad of tobacco and wiped his shirt
sleeve across his mouth. My papa didn't ever let his shirt get as
dirty as Mister Ward's.
"You wanta bet?"
"There ain't a drinking man in Drake Eye Springs, 'cept you!
They'll ride you out on a rail, even before the Law gets wind of
it."
"Hell, gal, that's where you're wrong! Ain't nobody findin'
out about my still. It's gonna be hid good. Quit wringin' your
damn hands! That's all you know to do ever' time I try to tell
you somethin'. Com'ere. Lemme show you the spot I got picked for
settin' it up at." He grabbed his wife's arm and they started up
the branch. The bottom of her skimpy skirt caught on a briar
vine, but Mister Ward wouldn't wait for her to untangle it, so it
got torn.
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