"What's the charge here?" said the Judge, pointing to Aunt Rachel's boy.
"Attempt to kill a white man."
"Any witnesses?"
"None except the victim."
"And I," said Zora, coming forward.
Both the sheriff and Colonel Cresswell stared at her. Of course, she was simply a black girl but she was an educated woman, who knew things about the Cresswell plantations that it was unnecessary to air in court. The newly elected Judge had not yet taken his seat, and Cresswell's word was still law in the court. He whispered to the Judge.
"Case postponed," said the Court.
The sheriff scowled.
"Wait till Jim gets on the bench," he growled.
The white bystanders, however, did not seem enthusiastic and one man—he was a Northern spinner—spoke out plainly.