At early dawn, when the men relaxed from the strain of the night’s vigil, Alwyn briefly counselled them: “Hide your guns.”
“Why?” blustered Rob. “Haven’t I a right to have a gun?”
‚ÄúYes, you have, Rob; but don‚Äôt be foolish‚ÅÝ‚Äîhide it. We‚Äôve not heard the last of this.‚Äù
But Rob tossed his head belligerently.
In town, rumor spread like wildfire. A body of peaceful whites passing through the black settlement had been fired on from ambush, and six killed‚ÅÝ‚Äîno, three killed‚ÅÝ‚Äîno, one killed and two severely wounded.
“The thing mustn’t stop here,” shouted Sheriff Colton; “these niggers must have a lesson.” And before nine next morning fully half the grown members of the same mob, now sworn in as deputies, rode with him to search the settlement. They tramped insolently through the school grounds, but there was no shred of evidence until they came to Rob’s cabin and found his gun. They tied his hands behind him