Frank Ross (Mattie’s Father) Character Analysis

People do not give it credence that a fourteen-year-old girl could leave home and go off in the wintertime to avenge her father’s blood but it did not seem so strange then, although I will say it did not happen every day.

Tom Chaney raised his rifle and shot him in the fore­head, killing him instantly. There was no more provocation than that and I tell it as it was told to me by the high sheriff of Sebastian County. Some people might say, well, what business was it of Frank Ross to meddle? My answer is this: he was trying to do that short devil a good turn. Chaney was a tenant and Papa felt responsibility. He was his brother’s keeper. Does that answer your question?

We went to the man’s office and I signed some coroners papers. The charge for the coffin and the embalming was something over sixty dollars. The shipping charge to Dardanelle was $9.50.

Yarnell took me outside the office. He said, “Miss Mattie, that man trying to stick you.”

I said, “Well, we will not haggle with him.”

He said, “That is what he counting on.”

I said, “We will let it go.”

“I cannot make an agreement with a child. You are not accountable. You cannot be bound to a contract.”

“Lawyer Daggett will back up any decision I make. You may rest easy on that score. You can confirm any agreement by telegraph.”

“This is a damned nuisance!" he exclaimed. “How am I to get my work done? I have a sale tomorrow.”

“There can be no settlement after I leave this office,” said I. “It will go to law.”

He worried with his eyeglasses for a minute and then said, “I will pay two hundred dollars to your father’s estate when I have in my hand a letter from your lawyer absolving me of all liability from the beginning of the world to date. It must be signed by your lawyer and your mother and it must be notarized.

“I want Chaney to pay for killing my father and not some Texas bird dog.”

“It will not be for the dog, it will be for the senator, and your father too. He will be just as dead that way, you see, and pay for all his crimes at once.”

I said, “If you refuse to go I will have to shoot you.”

He went on with his work and said, “Oh? Then you had better cock your piece.”

I had forgotten about that. I pulled the hammer back with both thumbs.

“All the way back till it locks,” said Chaney.

“I know how to do it,” said I. When it was ready I said, “You will not go with me?”

“I think not,” said he. “It is just the other way around. You are going with me.”

I pointed the revolver at his belly and shot him down. The explosion kicked me backwards and caused me to lose my footing and the pistol jumped from my hand.

The bandit chieftain made no reply. He brushed the snow and dirt from my face and said, “Your life depends upon their actions. I have never busted a cap on a woman or anybody much under sixteen years but I will do what I have to do.”

I said, “There is some mix-up here. I am Mattie Ross of near Dardanelle, Arkansas. My family has property and I don’t know why I am being treated like this.”

Lucky Ned Pepper said, “It is enough that you know I will do what I have to do.”

People do not give it credence that a fourteen-year-old girl could leave home and go off in the wintertime to avenge her father’s blood but it did not seem so strange then, although I will say it did not happen every day.

Tom Chaney raised his rifle and shot him in the fore­head, killing him instantly. There was no more provocation than that and I tell it as it was told to me by the high sheriff of Sebastian County. Some people might say, well, what business was it of Frank Ross to meddle? My answer is this: he was trying to do that short devil a good turn. Chaney was a tenant and Papa felt responsibility. He was his brother’s keeper. Does that answer your question?

We went to the man’s office and I signed some coroners papers. The charge for the coffin and the embalming was something over sixty dollars. The shipping charge to Dardanelle was $9.50.

Yarnell took me outside the office. He said, “Miss Mattie, that man trying to stick you.”

I said, “Well, we will not haggle with him.”

He said, “That is what he counting on.”

I said, “We will let it go.”

“I cannot make an agreement with a child. You are not accountable. You cannot be bound to a contract.”

“Lawyer Daggett will back up any decision I make. You may rest easy on that score. You can confirm any agreement by telegraph.”

“This is a damned nuisance!" he exclaimed. “How am I to get my work done? I have a sale tomorrow.”

“There can be no settlement after I leave this office,” said I. “It will go to law.”

He worried with his eyeglasses for a minute and then said, “I will pay two hundred dollars to your father’s estate when I have in my hand a letter from your lawyer absolving me of all liability from the beginning of the world to date. It must be signed by your lawyer and your mother and it must be notarized.

“I want Chaney to pay for killing my father and not some Texas bird dog.”

“It will not be for the dog, it will be for the senator, and your father too. He will be just as dead that way, you see, and pay for all his crimes at once.”

I said, “If you refuse to go I will have to shoot you.”

He went on with his work and said, “Oh? Then you had better cock your piece.”

I had forgotten about that. I pulled the hammer back with both thumbs.

“All the way back till it locks,” said Chaney.

“I know how to do it,” said I. When it was ready I said, “You will not go with me?”

“I think not,” said he. “It is just the other way around. You are going with me.”

I pointed the revolver at his belly and shot him down. The explosion kicked me backwards and caused me to lose my footing and the pistol jumped from my hand.

The bandit chieftain made no reply. He brushed the snow and dirt from my face and said, “Your life depends upon their actions. I have never busted a cap on a woman or anybody much under sixteen years but I will do what I have to do.”

I said, “There is some mix-up here. I am Mattie Ross of near Dardanelle, Arkansas. My family has property and I don’t know why I am being treated like this.”

Lucky Ned Pepper said, “It is enough that you know I will do what I have to do.”