he door.
As the train slowly clanged its way through the old town the remaining
passenger settled himself back in the seat and went to sleep.

Several men passed through the train, the conductor in the lead. Each
man slyly glanced at the minister, but said nothing. The train sped on
its way through the town.

Now, Wilson is the place where through passengers change cars and board
North-bound trains from the far South. Wilson for the past few days had
been the rendezvous for a well-organized vigilance committee, who had
vied with the ruffians at Goldsboro in offering violence to citizens
driven out of Wilmington. The leader of this gang was a young farmer by
the name of Bull. That afternoon Mr. Bull and quite a number of his
fellow-committeemen sat on the steps of the railroad station whittling
sticks when the station operator came up and handed him a telegram,
which ran as follows: "Goldsboro--Man on train 78 answering description
of Silkirk. Look out for him. Barnet."

"By Joe!" exclaimed Captain Bull, jumping to his feet. "Well, what's
up?" asked three or four of his companions, gathering around the leader.
"Nothing, only that Boston black Yankee is on train 78, an' he mustn't
git any further 'an Wilson, that's all," returned Bull. "Go, Buxton," he
said to a sallow-faced young man leaning against the wall, "an' tell the
boys ter git ready for er feast ter night. That Nigger editor slipped
through like grease, an' ef we let this Nigger do so we all uns ought
ter be gibbited. We want er be ready ter mount the train time she stops.
I've got no description of the man, but, then, its no hard tas' to pick
out er preacher from the tother uns." With that Captain Bull started
toward home to get his gun, and the crowd dispersed.

At Wilson trains usually pause at the water tank, a few yards below, for
coal and water, before making the final stop at the station. Just as
train 78 paused at this place, a colored man with a buggy whip under his
arm got aboard. He walked briskly through the train, scanning the faces
of the passengers as he went. "The' ain't but one colored man on here,"
he said, as he reached the door of the smoking car and looked in.
Walking up and touching this man on the shoulder, he said: "Looker here,
mister, you goin' North?" "I want to," returned the colored passenger.
"Well, come with me an' get somethin' ter eat foe you go; you look like
you hungry. I keep er resterant, put up thar jes' fer my people, be