They met and passed three horsemen armed to the teeth and very tipsy.
"Why, if to-morrow ain't election-day ag'in! Why, I quite fo'gotten that!"
At the edge of the town two more armed riders met them.
"Judge March, good mawnin', seh." All stopped. "Goin' to Suez?"
"We goin' on through into Blackland."
"I don't think you can, seh. Our pickets hold Swanee River bridge. Yes, sah, ow pickets. Why ow pickets, they're there. 'Twould be strange if they wa'n't—three hund'ed Blackland county niggehs marchin' on the town to burn it."
"Is that really the news?"
"That's the latest, seh. We after reinfo'cements." They moved on.
Judge March rode slowly toward Suez. John rode beside him. In a moment the Judge halted again, lifted his head, and listened. A long cheer floated to them, attenuated by the distance.
"I thought it was a charge, but I reckon it's on'y a meet'n of ow people in the square." He glanced at his son, who was listening, ashy pale.