Part 36 (1/2)

”Never.”

”Why did you rush into this Territory among the first to cross the border?”

”I come West to get away from n.i.g.g.e.rs, and bring my children up in a white man's country.”

Quick as a flash came the crucial question from lips that had never smiled. It was the triumphant scream of an eagle poised to strike. He had him at last.

”Then you don't believe the negro to be your brother and your equal--do you?”

The poor white man's body suddenly stiffened and his chin rose:

”No, by G.o.d, I don't believe that!”

John Brown lifted his hand in a quick signal and Owen stepped stealthily behind Doyle. The sharpened cutla.s.s whistled through the air and crashed into Doyle's skull. His helpless hands were lifted instinctively as he staggered. The swift descending blade split the right hand open and severed the left from the body before he crumpled in a heap on the ground. The a.s.sa.s.sin placed his knee on the prostrate figure and plunged his knife three times in the breast,--once through the heart and once through each lung. He had learned the art in butchering cattle.

Fifty yards away the mangled bodies of William and Drury Doyle lay on the ground with the dim figure of the a.s.sa.s.sin bending low to make sure that no sign of life remained.

John Brown raised the wick of his lantern and walked coolly up to the body of the elder Doyle. He flashed the lantern on the distorted features. A look of religious ecstasy swept the stern face of the Puritan and his eyes glittered with an unearthly glare.

He uttered a sound that was half a laugh and half a religious shout, s.n.a.t.c.hed his pistol from his belt, placed the muzzle within an inch of the dead skull and fired. The brains of the corpse splashed the muzzle of the revolver.

The trembling mother inside the cabin uttered a low cry of horror and crumpled in the arms of her son.

The boy dragged her to the bed and rushed to the kitchen for a cup of water. He dashed it in her face and cried for joy when she breathed again. He didn't mind the moans and sobs. The thought that she, too, might be dead had stopped his very heartbeat.

He soothed her at last and sat holding her hand in the dark. The girls nestled against her side. The mother gave no sign that she was conscious of their presence.

Her spirit was outside the cabin now, hovering in the darkness mourning her dead. Through the dread hours of the night she sat motionless, listening, dreaming.

No sounds came from the darkness. The coyote had ceased to call. The cricket in the chimney slept at last.

CHAPTER XIX

The dark figures secured the horses, bridles and saddles and moved to the next appointed crime.

The stolen horses were put in charge of the two sons, who had refused to take part in the events of the night. They were ordered to follow the huntsmen carefully.

Again they crept through the night and approached the home of Wilkinson, the member of the Legislature from the County. Brown had carefully surveyed his place and felt sure of a successful attack unless the house should be alarmed by a surly dog which no member of his surveying party had been able to approach.

When they arrived within two hundred yards of the gate, it was one o'clock. Brown carefully watched the house for ten minutes to see that no light gleamed through a window or a c.h.i.n.k. The wife had been sick with the measles when the survey was made. There was no sign of a light.

Salmon and Owen Brown were sent by the men on a protest to Brown.

Salmon was spokesman.

”We've got something to say to you, Father, before we take out Wilkinson--”

”Well?” the old man growled.