“You know nothing of the kind,” growled the man, angrily, in a deep voice. He had recovered himself. “What business have you here? Go home, wherever that may be, and leave the Invisible Empire to execute its dread decrees.”
“Dread fiddlesticks!” exclaimed Mrs. Stamper. “I don’t know you, don’t I?” She gave a step forward and, with a quick movement, caught and pulled the mask from his face. “I don’t know you, Captain McRaffle? And you don’t know me, do you?” With an oath the man made a grab for his mask, and, snatching it from her, hastily replaced it. She laughed triumphantly. “No, I didn’t know you, Captain McRaffle. I’ve got cause to know you. And you ought to be ashamed of yourself coming out here to harm a poor woman. So ought all of you; and you are, I know, every mother’s son of you. If you want to do anything, why don’t you do it to men, and openly, like Andy Stamper and Capt’n Allen?”
“It hasn’t been so long since they were in the order,” sneered McRaffle.
“Yes, and, when they were, there were gentlemen in it,” fired back Mrs. Stamper; “and they went after men, not women.”
“We didn’t come to trouble any woman; we came to give notice that no more night-meetings and speeches about burning houses were to be held here,” growled McRaffle.
“Yes; so you set an example by wanting to burn down houses yourself? That’s the way you wanted to give notice, if it hadn’t been for those gentlemen there.”
“She’s too much for you, Captain,” laughed his comrades.
“We’re trying to help out our own people, and to keep the carpet-baggers from breaking up Miss Cary’s school,” said McRaffle, trying to defend himself.
“No doubt Miss Cary will be much obliged to you.”
“No doubt she will. I have good reason to know she will,” affirmed McRaffle; “and you’ll do well not to be interfering with our work.” There was a movement in the corner behind Mrs. Stamper.