“Where’s this man Jackson?” asked a settler.
“Probably dodging the mob. He’ll appear when he knows he can have a fair hearing,” said Sevier. Then to a man near the door, “Stetson, go and find Polcher. He doesn’t seem to be here.”
As the messenger departed, Sevier began scribbling on the back of his petition. The men believed he was setting down the known facts of the double killing. Had they glanced over his shoulder they would have read:
Isaac Shelby, Geo. Rogers Clark and Benj. Logan will raise 5,000 men in Ky.
Arthur Campbell will be good for 3,000 more in southwest Va.
Robertson can surely bring 1,000 from the Cumberland.
Elijah Clarke can raise at least 5,000 in northern Georgia.
We are good for 3,000.
Tot. 17,000 rifles—if we have time.
He studied the list thoughtfully and nodded approval. Give him a few inches of time time before the storm broke, and he would stake his soul on the American manhood of the seventeen thousand riflemen he had listed. If Spain and her tools could be held off for a few months, then the Western door would swing back to allow men in buckskin to file through and take possession. He drummed on the table idly, then tore off a strip of paper containing his notes and fed it to a candle. With the exception of George Rogers Clark, all the men on the list had fought with him, some under his command.