Page:By Sanction of Law.pdf/257

 hair stand on end, some of them.—Stories of old Civil War days, or pre-slavery days. The blacks used to tell them to me and I tell you they made me feel creepy. That's just the way this night is making me feel."

Suddenly from down the street in the direction in which the crowd had gone there rang out on the night air a shot. All the air was quiet for a second except for the echo of the shot reverberating across the night sky. Those remaining on the piazza keyed their senses to the situation, listening expectantly. Two more shots in succession and then a fusilade greeted them. At that Professor Armstrong leaped to his feet:

"My God!" he whispered. "A lynching."

Dr. Tansey also leaped up, still listening. The minds of both men were filled with events of the morning. "This must not be. That man is innocent, Armstrong. Innocent," he exclaimed, catching the purport of Professor Armstrong's words and realizing the truth of them. "We must stop them before it is too late. Come, Armstrong."

"Hold on a minute," warned Armstrong. "We'd better not get mixed into this thing."

"Get mixed into it. Man, you know the truth. All this comes from that paper's story."

"Yes, but you don't know the temper of a southern mob."

"Where're your best men now? They ought to be heading this thing off. Get a few of them from somewhere. Do something! Do something! Come on!"

"Wait a minute. If you must go, better be armed. You