“I am not afraid for myself,” she answered, simply and truthfully.
“Wal, gen’lemen,” said the foreman pleasantly. “I reckon we hev finished for this spell anyhow. I consider the prisoner hes hed as fair a trial as ony man could wish, and I hev on’y ter thank yer all for yer help upon this occasion in maintain’ the laws and freedom of our beloved country, as belongs to the duty of free-born citizens.”
“Hurrah!” said the jury, with another relapse into Fourth of Julyism.
“We’ve purty nigh lost two whole days’ work ’long o’ this hyar foolin’,” observed the Arkansas man angrily. “Them coons up to ’Fection City is nat’ral born fools anyhow. Fust they blaze roun’ an’ set us on ter run down a hoss-thief fur ’em. Soon as we’ve done cotch him, they sen’ roun’ a woman to say the hoss was lent. If the blamed critters come to me again, reckon I’ll stick to my plough-handles. I’ll not light out for them, you bet.” And he immediately walked out of the store followed by the entire jury and the foreman.
When the Court broke up, Olive and Cotterell were left alone in the store along with Phillipps, the storekeeper. The latter handed Cotterell his revolver, which the jury had considerately left for him.
“I suppose I’m a free man,” said Cotterell, with more sign of emotion in his manner than he had yet shown.
“Thanks to Mrs. Weston you are free,” said Phillipps.
He turned to Olive, who seemed in a daze, and said, “Shall we go now?”
“Yes,” she answered, and they left the store together.
The crowd in the road before the door was already fast dispersing. The exciting climax for which they had waited was not to come off, so there remained no further inducement to stay. Some straggled into the smithy, some went towards the mills, but most of the men were getting their horses, putting on saddles, and settling halters and reins. The Arkansas man had a waggon and was hitching his horses to it, as Olive, riding on Rebel, and Cotterell on Queen Katharine, passed by.