“Show your orders,” said Tom hobbling before him.
“Well, deres one un ’em!” he said still grinning as he cocked his gun and presented it toward Tom. “En ef dat aint ennuf dey’s fifteen mo’ stanin’ ’roun’ dis house. It’s no use ter make er fuss. Come on, boys!”
Before Tom could utter another word of protest six more negro troopers laughing and nudging one another crowded into the room. Suddenly one of them threw a bucket of water in the fire place where a pine knot blazed and two others knocked out the candles.
There was a scuffle, the quick thud of heavy blows, and Hose Norman fell to the floor senseless. A piercing scream rang from his bride as she was seized in the arms of the negro who first appeared. He rapidly bore her toward the door surrounded by the six scoundrels who had accompanied him.
“My God, save her! They are draggin’ Annie out of the house,” shrieked her mother.
“Help! Help! Lord have mercy!” screamed the girl as they bore her away toward the woods, still laughing and yelling.
Tom overtook one of them, snatched his wooden leg off, and knocked him down. Hose’s mountain boys were crowding round Tom with their pistols in their hands.