The Ohio Democrat. (Logan, O. [Ohio]) 1886-1906, 1893-07-15
HOW JUDGE LYNCH WORKS.
RetrIbution Melted Out to Murderer by
silent Band OF Determined Men,


RetrIbution Melted Out to n Murderer by .
Silent Band OF Determined Men.
A man leaning against lamp post
on a street corner, sullen and moody
and dangerous look in his eyes. II
one had but known his thoughts he
would have compared him to the dull
red coal left behind in the hunters
| camp fire, to be blown out Of the ashes
and into the dry grass by n gust of
wind and to starta confagration which
would sweep over miles of forest.
"The law! The law! Curse the lawv'
he growled as he slouched on, but
halted a few rods away to greet an
other of his illS.
"Who says we must wait for the law?"
"Lets lynch himv'
The second man is the flame, starting
from the live coal. That flame could
be trampled out by hunters foot
now, but there is no one at hand to
realize the danger.
Law! Law! Why, the lawyers will
jugglc with the law and he will go
free! We are the law in the case of
such wretches as he!'
The voice of the third man fans the
flame and it spreads out among the
dry leaves. A hunters blanket would
cover it, but it is creeping with fearful
rapidity.
Away with the law and bring us a
rope! Lynch law is what we wauS
| heren'
| The flame is darting out thousand
tongues now as it races before the wind
"a wave of flame which lengthens like
n serpent stretching itself in the noon
day sun, and which lifts its crest higher
and higher as it finds richer fuel. Not
one man now, but ten, twenty, fifty.
They do not scatter to spread the news,
but other men come to them. There is
a strange magnetism about crowd-a
| crowd which whispers and mutters and
| menaces. 1t draws out the householder,
though he has heard nothing. 1t draws
| the vagabond from his bed in a box in
the alley, though he has seen nothing.
Men come to it through street and
court and alley-from chambers above
and cellars beneath.
"Move on to the jail!''
There are no shouting and hurrah-
ing, no pushing and hurrying. There.
| in lies the menace. Men speak as they
| press on, but their words do not float
up to the open chamber windows. No
one has been selected to lead, but there
| is u leader. When he issued his first
command all obeyed without question.
A something in his look and tone put
| him at the head of the mob Turn to
the left-turn to the right-straight
on for two blocks, and the grim old
| jail looms up through the darkness.
Half a dozen men detach themselves to
| knock at the jailer's door. The foot.
steps of great mob at midnight make
o sound like thunder afar off in the
| deep woods. Men do not wake up to
turn over and slumber again, but to
| grow pale and peer from their windows
1.-The keys and the murderer!''
The keys are handed over. If the
mob were shouting and clamoring the
jailer might refuse, but it is silent
mob. Determined men utter no shouts.
The half dozen disappear inside the
building. The man they want is sleep
ing. He hears them at the door of his
cell and is wide awake in an instant.
| He knows why they have come. His
lips part to make an appeal, but rs he
looks into their faces his words are un-
spoken. They have come for his life.
They utter no word, and the lines OF
their faces are hard set. Two by two
they march out past the trembling
jailer and into the street. There is a
sound from the crowd-not shout or
a lurrah, but a deep, vindictive chucl1le
which reminds you of the wolf as
| 1,o f,ly hi
taste of warm blood.
Down the street four blocks-turn to
the right-and here is the tree. The
prisoner looks about him as he walks,
but does not speak. If there were
shouting and hurrahing he might hope.
1t is n crowd where men whisper and
mutter, and he is awed to despair.
There is little waiting. A rope is
thrown over limb, the moose passed
over his head, and the men fall bacl;
and leave him the pivot of small cir.
Gle. No one speaks to him, but he real.
ICES what the action means. Standing
there, with his arms tied behind him.
and his chin on his breast, he is like a
statue dimly seen through the mid.
night gloom. Perhaps he utters 8
prayer, though the blood of his victim
still stains his clothing. There i.
silence all around him-silence SO deer
that one passing the outskirts of the
crowd few feet away would not sus
pect it's presence.
The silence is broken by the footstep.
Of marching men. 1t is n platoon o
police coming up to uphold the majesty
of the law by rescuing the prisoner
!, Two hundred mex fall ont Of the mol
and form across the path. There arr
no shouts Of defance-no weapon.
drawn. They simply stand like stone
wall. The gray-haired man in charg,
of the police has wisdom. 1t is'a mol
bent on one single act. 1t is deter
mined, but not angry. Arouse its pas
sions, and who can say where riot ant
lawlessness will end? An arm is raised
, and the murderer is lifted off tn,
, ground. Some one murmurs his ap
pause, but he is silenced. Three o.
four revolvers crack, and the dangling
form suddenly straightens out. Fo
five minutes no one moves Then thu
crowd begins to melt away, and, 10
after a minute only the dead is left.
was like the swift and silent dissolvin,
of frost before a morning sun. Mel
tiptoed away. No man spoke to an
ether. No one looked into the face o