Norton's hundred picked men were already lounging in the Court House Square. When the deputy appeared with his prisoner they quietly closed in around him and entered the clerk's room in a body. The clerk was dumfounded at the sudden packing of his place with quiet, sullen looking, armed men. Their revolvers were in front and the men were nervously fingering the handles.
The clerk had been ordered by the Governor under no circumstances to accept bail, and he had promised with alacrity to obey. But he changed his mind at the sight of those revolvers. Not a word was spoken by the men and the silence was oppressive. The frightened official mopped his brow and tried to leave for a moment to communicate with the Capitol. He found it impossible to move from his desk. The men were jammed around him in an impenetrable mass. He looked over the crowd in vain for a friendly face. Even the deputy who had made the arrest had been jostled out of the room and couldn't get back.
The editor looked at the clerk steadily for a moment and quietly asked:
"What amount of bail do you require?"
The officer smiled wanly:
"Oh, major, it's just a formality with you, sir; a mere nominal sum of $500 will be all right."
"Make out your bond," the editor curtly ordered. "My friends here will sign it."
"Certainly, certainly, major," was the quick answer. "Have a seat, sir, while I fill in the blank."
"I'll stand, thank you," was the quick reply.
The clerk's pen flew while he made out the forbidden bail which set at liberty the arch enemy of the Governor. When it was signed and the daring young leader quietly walked out the door, a cheer from a hundred men rent the air.