THE BATTALION.
19
if he would have something- to drink, he pronounced the
word “beer” quite distinctly. He was asked, after he had
taken off a gdass of beer, “Who struck you last nigdit?”
To this he answered, “Murray,”
Now, there are a gneat many Murrays in Petrieville,
several families of whom strang-ely enoug-h disclaim all re
lationship with one another. Some are negroes. “Which
Murray?” asked Dr. Bates, who was present.
“Ploug-hman,” the wounded man articulated with some
difficulty. This was confusing-. Several of the white
Murrays were farmers, and one of them was a vineyard
grower. Then all the black Murrays mig-ht well be de
scribed as ploug-hmen, for they were all so from time to
time. “Where does he live?” asked one of the law} 7 ers.
“Near railroad,” murmured Goodrum. This descrip
tion reduced the number of implicated Murrays to three.
“What did he hit you with?”
“Hatchet.”
“It was dark, how did you know him?”
“Voice.”
“Does Murray owe you money?”
“No.”
“Had you had any quarrel?”
“Yes.”
Ag-ain and ag-ain at various times the same questions
were put to him, and he steadily adhered to his statement
that Murray, ploug-hman, had cut his head open with a
hatchet in consequence of a previous quarrel.
The three Murrays were arrested, but soon released.
Two of them were negroes, one of them of very bad repu-