Part 47 (2/2)

Brown collected the slaves and a.s.sured them of protection. When every watch, gun, pistol, and every piece of plate worth carrying had been collected, and the stables stripped of every horse and piece of leather, the old man turned to his victim and coolly remarked:

”Now get your property back if you can. I dare you and the whole United States Army to follow me to-night. And you tell this to your neighbors to-morrow morning.”

Hicklin kept silent.

Brown knew that his tongue would be busy with the rising sun. He also knew that his message would be hot on the wires to the East before the sun would set. He could feel the thrill it would give his sentimental friends in Boston. And he could see them reaching for their purses.

The men were still emptying drawers on the floor in a vain search for cash. Hicklin never kept cash over night in his house. He lived too near the border.

Brown called his men from their looting and ordered them to the next house which he had marked for a.s.sault--the house of James Lane, three-quarters of a mile away.

They smashed Lane's door and took him a prisoner with Dr. Erwin, a guest of the family.

From Hicklin he had secured considerable booty and his men were keen for richer spoils. The first attack had netted the raiders two fine horses, a yoke of oxen, a wagon, harness, saddles, watches, a fine collection of jewelry, bacon, flour, meal, coffee, sugar, bedding, clothing, a shotgun, boots, shoes, an overcoat and many odds and ends dumped into the wagon.

From Lane they expected more. They were sore over the results. They got six good horses, their harness and wagons, a lot of bedding, clothing and provisions, but no jewelry except two plain silver watches.

Brown added five negroes to his party and told them he would take them to Canada. Thus far no blood had been shed. The attacks had been made with such quiet skill, the surprise was complete. In spite of all the talk and bl.u.s.ter of frontier politicians no sane man in the State of Missouri could conceive of the possibility of such a daring crime. The victims were utterly unprepared for the a.s.sault. And no defense had been attempted.

Stevens had better luck. His party had encountered David Cruise, a man who was rash enough to resist. He was an old man, too, of quiet, peaceable habits and exemplary character. He proved to be the man who didn't know how to submit to personal insult.

He owned but one slave who did the cooking for his family. When Stevens broke into his house and demanded the woman, he indignantly refused to surrender his cook to a gang of burglars.

The ex-convict, who had served his term for an a.s.sault with intent to kill, didn't pause to ask Cruise any questions.

His revolver clicked, a single shot rang out and the old man dropped on the floor with a bullet through his heart.

Pa.s.sing the body, Stevens looted the house. He made the largest haul of the night. He secured four oxen, eleven mules, two horses, and a wagon load of provisions. Incidentally he picked up a valuable mule from a neighbor of Cruise as they pa.s.sed his house on the way to join Brown.

When Stevens reported the murder and gave the inventory of the valuable goods stolen, ”Shubel Morgan” stroked his long gray beard and spoke but one word:

”Good.”

In his grim soul he knew that the blood stain left on Cruise's floor would be worth more to his cause than all the stolen jewelry, horses and wagons. Its appeal to the East would be the one secret force needed to rouse the archaic instincts of his pious backers. They would deny with indignation the accusation of murder against his men. They would invent the excuse of self-defense. He did not need to make it. From the deeps of their souls would come the shout of the ancient head-hunter returning with the b.l.o.o.d.y scalp of a foe in his hand. Brown felt this. He knew it, because he felt it in his own heart. He was a Puritan of Puritans.

With deliberate daring the caravan moved back into the Territory. For the moment the audacity of the crime stunned the frontier. He had figured on this hour of uncertainty and amazement to make good his escape. He knew that he could depend on the people along the way to Iowa to protect the ten slaves which he had brought out of Missouri.

The press of Kansas unanimously condemned the outrage. Brown knew they would. He could spit in their faces now. He was done with Kansas. His caravan was moving toward the North; his eyes were fixed on the hills of Virginia.

His experiment had been a success.

The President of the United States, James Buchanan, offered a reward of $250 for his arrest. The Governor of Missouri raised the reward to $3,000. The press flashed the news of the daring rescue of ten slaves by old John Brown. He regained in a day his lost prestige. The stories of the robberies which accompanied the rescue were denied as Border Ruffian lies, as ”Shubel Morgan” knew they would be denied.

His enterprise had met every test. He got his slaves safely through to Canada and started a reign of terror. The effect of the raid into a Slave State had tested his theory of direct, bloodstained action as the solution and the only solution of the problem.

The occasional frowns of pious people on his methods caused him no uneasiness or doubt. He was a man of daily prayer. He was on more intimate terms with G.o.d than his critics.

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