hborhood. White men from all over the state, armed to the teeth,
would at the slightest word pour into town on every railroad train, and
extras would be run for their benefit."

"They're already coming in," said Watson.

"We might go to the sheriff," suggested Miller, "and demand that he
telegraph the governor to call out the militia."

"I spoke to the sheriff an hour ago," replied Watson. "He has a white
face and a whiter liver. He does not dare call out the militia to
protect a negro charged with such a brutal crime;--and if he did, the
militia are white men, and who can say that their efforts would not be
directed to keeping the negroes out of the way, in order that the white
devils might do their worst? The whole machinery of the state is in the
hands of white men, elected partly by our votes. When the color line is
drawn, if they choose to stand together with the rest of their race
against us, or to remain passive and let the others work their will, we
are helpless,--our cause is hopeless."

"We might call on the general government," said Miller. "Surely the
President would intervene."

"Such a demand would be of no avail," returned Watson. "The government
can only intervene under certain conditions, of which it must be
informed through designated channels. It never sees anything that is not
officially called to its attention. The whole negro population of the
South might be slaughtered before the necessary red tape could be spun
out to inform the President that a state of anarchy prevailed. There's
no hope there."

"Den w'at we gwine ter do?" demanded Josh indignantly; "jes' set here
an' let 'em hang Sandy, er bu'n 'im?"

"God knows!" exclaimed Miller. "The outlook is dark, but we should at
least try to do something. There must be some white men in the town who
would stand for law and order,--there's no possible chance for Sandy to
escape hanging by due process of law, if he is guilty. We might at least
try half a dozen gentlemen."

"We'd better leave Josh here," said Watson. "He's too truculent. If he
went on the street he'd make trouble, and if he accompanied us he'd do
more harm than good. Wait for us here, Josh, until we 'we seen what we
can do. We'll be back in half an hour."

In half an hour they had both returned.

"It's no use," reported Watson gloomily. "I called at the mayor's office
and found it locked. He is doubtless afraid on his own account, and
would not dream of asserting his authority