“Cross your hands!” ordered the constable. Henry was panting. He did not speak at once. In that moment he had seen everything. Then, looking straight at the man in front of him, he said, “I won’t!”
They were all taken by surprise. The master of Freelands stared at a Henry he had never seen before. The constable sputtered.
“Why you black ——! You won’t cross your hands!” He reached for his revolver.
“Henry!” His master’s voice cracked.
And Henry looked at him and said, with added emphasis, “No! I won’t!”
The three constables now cocked their revolvers, surrounded him. Mr. Hamilton was agitated. He also drew his rifle.
“By God, Freeland, he’s dangerous!”
William Freeland could say nothing. Iron bands seemed to be choking him. Henry! That clumsy, silly slave had grown a foot.
“Shoot me! Shoot me and be damned! I won’t be tied!”
And at the moment of saying it, with the guns at his breast, Henry quickly raised his arms and dashed the weapons from their hands, sending them flying in all directions.