Putting his arm within Hallet's, he then attempted to press through the crowd; but the blood of the chivalry had risen, and, spite of Joe's remarks, they showed no inclination to let the Yankee off so cheaply. Forming a solid wall around him, they blocked Larkin's way at every turn, and cries of 'Let him alone, Larkin!' 'Cool him off, boys!' 'Doan't ye spile th' fun, Larkin!' 'Guv th' feller a little hosspitality!' echoed from all directions.
Putting up his revolver, Larkin turned to them, and said, in the mildest and blandest tone conceivable:
'Thet's right, boys—ye orter hev some fun; but this gintleman's sick. Doan't ye see how pale he ar? He couldn't stand it, nohow. But thar's a feller thet kin,' pointing to Mulock, who stood looking on, at the outer edge of the crowd. 'Ef ye're spilin' fur sport, ye moight try yer hand on him!'
'Yas, he'm de man!' cried Ally. 'He holped whip de young missus. He telled on har fur twenty dollar. He'm de man!'
Mulock did not seem to realize, at once, that he was the subject of these remarks. The moment he did, he sprang out of the crowd, and darted off for the woods at the top of his speed. A hundred men followed him, with cries of 'Mount, head him off!' 'Five dollars ter th' man thet kotches him!' 'Take him, dead or alive!'
Amid the universal excitement and confusion that followed, Larkin walked rapidly away with Hallet.
'You can heat the kettle, boys; Mulock can't run,' cried Joe, from the platform. 'But you must give him a fair trial.
'We'll do thet, never ye fear!' echoed a dozen voices.
'I nominate his friend, Mr. Gaston, for judge,' said Joe.
'Gaston it is!' Gaston it is!' 'Mount the bench, Mr. Gaston!' shouted a hundred 'natives.'