“We will have this matter settled by law now, and know whether we are to be run over in this way. We will know which are to rule this place—the blacks or the whites,” said Rev. Mr. Mealy. “We’ll know what rights this militia company have. They have got an idea that they can do whatever they please. We’ll have it settled now.”
“This court is a mockery of justice,” continued Watta. “Look at those arms on the side of wealth, and an unarmed poor man arrested for contempt, because he has a dark skin and cornered his opponent by lawful questions. The next time a white swell rides into our ranks while we are on parade we will see that he doesn’t take us to court for obstructing his way.”
Rev. Mr. Mealy, Dr. Shall, and General Rives were active and nearest in efforts to control the now highly incensed Baker family and Gaston; and an influential colored man succeeded in getting Watta out of the street. With deep muttered threats and oaths, the Bakers and their friends at length betook themselves to their conveyances and their homes.
Captain Doc conversed with the constable, in the justice’s office, while the latter official went to his dinner and returned. Re-entering, Rives approached, and extending his hand said good-humoredly, “Shake hands Doc.”
“I don’t know,” replied he, with averted eyes.
“Yes, you will. I couldn’t help it. You was bearing on so hard that they would have shot you in two minutes more. I did it to save you.”
“Is that so, judge? Then here’s my hand. I didn’t mean no contempt; but if I’ve contempted you, or your court I’m sorry.”
“That’s all right now, and I’ll remit the fine. Now let me tell you, you’d best settle this matter somehow, if it is possible. I’m afraid trouble will come of this. I wish Watta had ’a’ kept still.”
“So do I. He’s a marked man now, shor’, and his life an’t worth much,” said Nat Wellman, the constable.