He may have told before about the dance out at the little red house
east of town when Dolly Carter and the Gordon boys and others split open
the feather beds, which had been taken outside for the dance, scattered
the feathers, and such things, like Comanche Indians, just for meanness.
He stopped them, he and Russell, brother of the man who became sheriff.
And they stayed on to see that there was no more trouble. (Uncle Sid Ross
told me Mr. Williams got one of them by the throat, cussing him
out.) Probably got out his pistol, wasn’t sure, and he wasn’t an
officer at all then.