“Do you mean to tell me that consarned critter is a-settin’ in my parlor this minute and talking love to Betsey?” roared the wrathful Uncle Tommy, in a still higher voice.
“I don’t think he is trying to make love to your wife; if he does, she has the poker at hand and she told me she would use it if he gave her the least excuse.”
The weather prophet boiled over. Ignoring the youth who had given the infuriating news, he addressed the crowd:
“Do you hear that, folks? That limb of Satan is a-settin’ in my front parlor and Betsey hasn’t any one with her! It’s the most outrageous outrage that was ever outraged. Do you ’spose I’m goin’ to stand it?”
“What will you do about it?” asked a neighbor tauntingly.
“What will I do ’bout it? I’ll show him. He’s one of the varmints that stole that sweet innercent child. Let’s lynch him!”
The proposal struck fire on the instant. Nothing is so excitable as an American crowd, and an impetuous leader can do anything with it. A dozen voices shouted:
“That’s it! lynch him! lynch him! come on, boys! we’re together in this.”
The last words were uttered by a tall, middle-aged farmer without coat or vest. He had a clear, ringing voice, as if born to command. In a twinkling he was at the head of the swarm which was increasing in numbers every minute, with every one ardent to carry out the startling proposal first made by Uncle Tommy Waters.
Harvey Hamilton was alarmed. It has been shown that he had not a shadow of sympathy for the criminal, who was bound in the cabin of the weather prophet, but he knew the detective’s sentiments. He had left the prisoner behind in order to save him from the very fate that now threatened, and which had been precipitated by the truth the youth saw no way of holding back from them.