About all Tom ever did was booze-up and go hunting. His wife, Rose, did most of the farm work when she wasn’t laid up from Tom beating her. Tom would set her chores for her, before he went off on a hunting trip. They were usually more than a strong man and a boy could do, but if Rose didn’t have ‘em done by the time he got back, she was in for a beating.

Now, he pushed his big red face into mine, and asked me what the hell I meant by interferin’ with him.

“You tellin’ me a white man can’t whip a nigger if he feels like it? You sayin’ there’s some law against it?”

“Well,” I said. “I don’t know about that. I ain’t saying there is, and I ain’t saying there ain’t. But there’s a law against disturbin’ the peace, and that’s what you’re doin’.”

“And what about him disturbin’ my peace? How about that, huh? A god-danged stinkin’ nigger almost knocking me off the sidewalk and making me spill my shotgun shells!”

“Well, now, there’s some division of opinion about that,” I said. “It looks like maybe you might have bumped into him instead of him bumpin’ you.”

Tom yelled that what was the god -danged difference, anyways? It was a nigger’s place to look out for a white man and keep out of his way. “Just ask anyone,” he said, looking around at the crowd. “Ain’t that right, fellas?”

Someone said, “That’s right, Tom,” and there was a little murmur of agreement. A kind of half-hearted murmur, because no one liked Tom very much even if they did have to side with him against a colored fella.

It looked to me like they’d really rather be on my side. All I had to do was change the issue a little, make it between me and him instead of between a white man and a black.

“Where did you get that board you been beating him with?” I said. “It looks to me like it came out of the sidewalk.”

“So what if it did?” Tom said. “You expect me to use my fists on a nigger?”

“Now, never you mind about that,” I said. “The point is, you got no right to beat him with city property. Suppose you broke that board, then what? Why these good taxpayers here has got to pay for a new one. Suppose someone comes along and steps in that empty place in the sidewalk? These taxpayers has got to pay the damages.”

Tom scowled and cussed, and glared around at the crowd. There wasn’t hardly a friendly face among ‘em, so he cussed some more and said all right, then, to hell with the board. He’d just get the harness straps from his horse and beat Uncle John with them.

“Uh-huh,” I said. “I don’t reckon you will. Not right now, anyways.”

“Who’s gonna stop me? What the hell you mean I won’t do it right now?”