At six o’clock, Gaston summoned thirty-five of the more prominent negroes of the county including two of the professors in Miss Susan Walker’s college, to meet the Committee of Twenty-Five and receive its ultimatum. Stern and hard of face sat the twenty-five chosen representatives of that world-conquering race of men at one end of the room, while at the other end sat the thirty-five negroes anxious and fearful, realising that their day of dominion had ended.
Gaston rose and handed them a copy of the resolutions.
“We give you till seven-thirty to-morrow morning as the leaders of your race to carry out these demands,” he said gravely.
“But we have no authority, sir,” replied the negro preacher to whom he handed the paper.
“Your authority is equal to ours—the authority of elemental manhood. If you can not execute them in peace, we will do it by force.”
“We must decline such responsibility unless”—the negro started to argue the question.
“The meeting stands adjourned!” quietly announced Gaston, taking up his hat and leaving the room followed by his Committee.
At seven-thirty next morning no answer had been received. Gaston called for seventy-five volunteers to execute the decrees.
Within thirty minutes, five hundred men swung into line at eight o’clock, and marched four abreast to the office of the negro paper. It was promptly burned to the ground, its editor paid its cash value, and with a rope around his neck, escorted to the depot and placed on a north bound train.
As Gaston handed him his ticket for Washington he quietly said to him, “I have saved your life this morning. If you value it, never put your foot on the soil of this state again.”