The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1893-07-25

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 dozen men detach themselves to
knock at the jailer's door. The foot
steps of great mob at midnight make
a 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 as he
looks into their faces his words are I'M
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
iailer and into the street. There is a
sound from the crowd-not a shout or
hurrah, but deep, vindictive chuckle
which reminds you of the wolf as
he overtakes his prey and feels the
taste of warm blood.
Down the street four bloclzs-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 a crowd where men whisper and
mutter, and he is awed to despair.
There is little waiting. A rope is
thrown over a limb, the moose passed
over his head, and the men fall back
and leave him the pivot of a 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
statue dimly seen through the mid
night gloom. Perhaps he utters
prayer, though the blood of his victim
still stains his clothing. There is
silence all around him-silence so deep
that one passing the outskirts of the
crowd few feet away would not sus
pect its presence
The silence is broken by the footsteps
If marching men. 1t is a platoon of
police coming up to uphold the majesty
of the law by rescuing the prisoner.
Two hundred men fall out of the mob
and form across the path. There are
no shouts of defance-no weapons
drawn. They simply stand like stone
wall. The gray-haired man in charge
Of the police has wisdom. 1t is a mob
bent ON one single act 1t is deter
mined, but not angry. Arouse its pas
sions, and who can say where riot and
lawlessness will end? An arm is raised,
and the murderer is lifted off the
ground. Some one murmurs his APP
plause, but he is silenced- Three or
four revolvers crack, and the dangling
form suddenly straightens out. For
five minutes no one moves. Then the
crowd begins to melt away, and, 10!
after minute only the dead is left. 1t
was like the swift and silent dissolving
of frost before morning sun. Men
tiptoed away. No man spoke to an
other No one looked into the face of
his neighbor. When day comes the
law will ask who has done this thing.
There will be none to answer. The
law has not been indicated, but
stronger than law is retribution when
stern and silent men determine to mete
It out.-Chicapo Times.