One day, my grandpas Fred Roberts and Claude Baker and my great uncles Ed and Bascum Roberts were riding over Wallen’s Ridge in their wagon. As they came around a bend, grandpas Fred and Claude noticed a group of men back in the brush. One of them came limping out onto the road and said, “As you can see, I’m crippled.” Obviously, he was hoping to get a ride on the wagon. Grandpas Roberts and Baker ignored the man, knowing that he was up to no good. Great uncle Bascum, being a kind hearted soul, if not the brightest one, got out of the wagon to walk beside the man and talk to him.
Knowing that he was up to no good, grandpa Roberts got his shotgun out and quietly handed it over to grandpa Baker. Grandpa Baker sat on the back of the wagon with the shotgun to make sure that the man and his friends didn’t give Bascum any trouble. As grandpa Baker told it, “There weren’t no trouble.”
Eventually, the man stopped walking and bid them goodbye. He didn’t appear to have a limp as he walked back to his friends.
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