“I have committed no crime against your laws; if so, why, leave me in the hands of the law.”
“We take the law into our own hands these times.” replied Gideon.
“Let me labor with him a spell, Gid.” Gideon subsided, muttering.
“In the fus’ place you are foun’ guilty of associatin’ with Northern abolitionists; besides that, they have so far corrupted your better judgment as to cause you to become a party to runnin’ off slaves.”
“Now, Mr. Maxwell, bein’ a British subjec’, you may not know that in the South sech actions is accountable with murder and becomes a hangin’ affair. Because of your ignorance of our laws, and, whereas, you have fallen into evil company, we will give you a show for your life if you will own up and tell all you know, and help us to recover our property; otherwise, sorry as I should be to deal harshly with a gentleman of your cloth, the law mus’ take its course.”
“I am aware that I can expect no mercy at your hands. I have spoken freely and stated my honest convictions.”
“An’ free enough you’ve been, by gosh!” said Gideon, again breaking in.
Just at this point two men rode out of the woods leading a horse that Warren recognized. It was the parson’s.
“Where’s he at?” queried Bill.
“Dead’s a hammer,” answered the one in charge, at whose side dangled the pistols of the “fighting parson.”