"Do you mean to murder us?" demanded Titus, aghast at the determined policy of the commander. "You have hemmed us in so that we can't get out, and now you mean to fire on us! I cal'late you've got a bone to pick with your feller-citizens for armin' niggers."
"I can pick it without any help from you. Now, do you surrender, or shall I order my men to fire?" demanded the colonel so sternly that Titus was silenced. "I give you five minutes to consider my offer."
"I don't want to be shot like a mule with a broken leg," said Swin Pickford, loud enough to be heard in the front rank.
"Can't we make terms?" asked Titus, who was terribly alarmed.
"No terms with a mob," replied the colonel.
Half a dozen of the ruffians came forward to their leader, and it was evident that they were quite as much frightened as he was himself. Enough was heard from those in the front rank of the defenders to assure them they pleaded for surrender. Some of them farther back even shouted, "We surrender!"
"I s'pose we can't do nothin' but surrender or be shot," resumed Titus.
"That's all; and you may thank your stars that some of you are not swinging by the neck from the trees at the side of the road."
"Then we surrender, for we can't do nothin' else," said Captain Titus. "But I want to tell you, Colonel Belthorpe and Noah Lyon, that you haven't seen the end of this thing yet. If the whole country don't howl ag'in you within twenty-four hours, I lose my guess."
"You had better fall back on your ruffians and guess again," added the colonel, as he placed himself at the side of Major Lyon.