“Come over; come over, and bring him along;” and Uncle Jesse hastened back to the table to finish his meal while the twain should be pacing the two hundred yards intervening between the two dwellings.
They entered presently, both much excited, and the Baconsville man bearing a double barreled shot-gun.
“What is the matter?” asked the host, gulping down a half cup of coffee and leaving the table to greet his guests. “I couldn’t hear half you said.”
“Ugh! Matter enough!” replied Den. “Tell him, Sterns.”
“Why, the town of Baconsville is just running over of armed white men—rifle-clubs, regular cavalry companies, and they’re going to kill all the niggers, ravish the women, and burn the houses, and put all the children to death!”
“No! no! no!” cried Uncle Jesse. “Tell a man something he can believe now! They won’t do no such thing as that. The white folks has got more sense ’n that. They won’t do no such things, and I don’t believe it! You are scart and excited.”
“Just go and see then, Mr. Roome. If you don’t believe me, may be you won’t believe your own eyes,” replied the man.
“Well, Roome, come on! Let’s go and see for ourselves; for if it is true, we ought to help,” said Brother Gibson.
“No sir! You just wait, and keep inside the law!” said Jesse Roome, after scratching his head thoughtfully a moment. “I believe in law, and them that has kept inside the law is the ones that is coming out ahead.”
Sterns then gave a graphic description of the incidents, threats, and indications in Baconsville, up to the close of the court-scene at about half past four o’clock.