Page:Maud Howe - Atlanta in the South.djvu/221

 He moved nearer the prisoner. The officer with an oath started to his feet; and laying his hand on Philip's shoulder, warned him as he loved his life not to lay a finger on the negro.

The dispute had attracted the attention of some of the passengers, though the card-players had not looked up from their game. The instant the officer touched Rondelet, the physician wrenched himself from his grasp, and placing himself beside the negro, said in a voice whose silver tones, though hardened to steel, had lost nothing of their polish: "I am a doctor of medicine. This man is badly hurt, and I propose to dress his wound. I am alone and unarmed, but I mean to put this thing through."

His voice never shook, though he was covered by the revolver in the bully's hand.

There was a stir among the passengers.

"I 'll play you double or quits on the next game," said the red-faced drover. "And now, young man, go ahead with your splintering, and I 'll stand by to see fair play, if it 's only to stop that nigger's d— noise."

He shuffled the cards, handed them to the clerical-looking young man, and cocking his seven-shooter, pointed it at the officer. Quick to see the altered situation, the latter lowered his weapon. It was evident that public