“Just ask the Judge. If he suspends I am willing.”
A brief conference ensued, after which the Judge announced a suspension for ten minutes.
This caused dissatisfaction among the spectators, as a peaceful adjustment would be but a tame issue of all their military preparations.
Intendant Garndon then conducted the plaintiffs and their attorney to the council chamber, which was separated from Dunn’s shop on the corner or Main Street by only one half the width of a narrow street.
At this time the largest and most unruly part of the cavalry was gathered about this corner groggery, and a less suitable place for the conference could not have been selected; but each would-be peacemaker seemed to think peace most attainable on his own premises.
Though the distance was less than four squares, as they could proceed but slowly through the throng, it sufficed Gen. Baker to administer a lecture to the dusky official upon his personal culpability in having allowed “this so-called militia company,” to train “upon Mr. Robert Baker’s road,” and with arms in their hands—though, doubtless the poor, berated mayor found difficulty in understanding how a public highway could be “Mr. Robert Baker’s road,” or how he could have disarmed the State’s militia.
As has already been stated, quite a number of colored citizens, and of the rank and file of the militia men, had gathered in and about the armory, hoping to find protection there.
Among them was Dan Pipsie, who was quite sober, and his own plucky self.
“Well, if I war Captain Doc, I’d do anyt’ing on earth to settle dis myself,” said Dan. “I wouldn’t have de blood of all dese collo’d families on my head. When I die, I don’t want no man’s wife cussin’ me, noh blamin’ me fo’ his death.”