am a free State man: now raft me_!" As no one seemed inclined to
undertake that job, he faithfully promised them that if there was any
more of that business done he would go over into Missouri and raise a
company of men and clean out the town.

Meantime my friends at Port William provided means to send me down to
Weston, there to take the steamboat Polar Star, bound for St. Louis.
"Boycotting" was a word unknown to the English language at that time;
and yet I was "boycotted" on board the steamboat. I heard nothing--not
a word; and yet I could feel it. I had hoped to be a total stranger, but
it was evident I was not, and the most comfort I could find was to keep
my state-room, and employ my time writ ing out the appeal I intended to
make to the people, through the _Missouri Democrat_, published in St.
Louis. At length my work was done, and yet we were only half way to St.
Louis. The reader will believe that my reflections were not cheerful.
What would become of myself? What would become of my wife and children?
What would become of Kansas, or of the United States?

At Jefferson City a man had come aboard of the boat who seemed almost as
much alone as myself. Still the captain and officers of the boat paid
him marked attention. One thing I noticed, he abounded in newspapers,
and I wanted something to read that should save me from my own
reflections. I ventured to ask him for the loan of some of his papers;
then when I returned them he went to his trunk and took out a book of
travels and gave it to me, saying: "Take that, please. It will amuse
you." At length we could see the smoke of the city of St. Louis, and I
gave back to this stranger the book he had loaned me. He said: "No,
thank you." I was startled, and said with some surprise: "I do not know
why you should do this to a stranger." He laughed and said: "You are not
so much a stranger as you think. Your name is Butler, is it not?"

"Yes."

"And they mobbed you at Atchison?"

"Yes."

"Well, please call on me at the office of the _Missouri Democrat."_

"And what is your name?"

"_They call me B. Gratz Brown_".

And so Providence had prepared the way for making my appeal to the
people. B. Gratz Brown had the preceding winter, at Jefferson City,
either given or accepted a challenge to fight a duel; but the public
authorities had interfered, and some business connected with this matter
had called him to Jefferson City. But whence had he his knowledge of
the mob