The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1894-10-09

nose uTeadIul men, lhefe must De
Riot and he laughed. why. it's al
ways So"
Yes. always. Streets always full.
tell you, were all alive here. No stag
nant waters in Tombstone.
What a night followed Eleven o clock
y, /, ,. The streets were crowded. the
noise louder, shouts, curses. pistol shots
the air fun of hideous sounds. / dared
not shut my eyes to sleep but Jack
laughed at my fears when l raped at
What is the matter" I insisted.
"Oh. half OF them have a lot Of money"
he answered. land the other half want
10 get 1t away. Some of them don like
felt in the morning as if ! had passed
through several circles Of the inferno; but
my purpose to remain as long as Jack
did was only strengthened. The more
awful the place, the more need OF my
presence.
The hotel was out Of the question, so
we hastily fitted up little adobe house
near the mouth of Jack s mine, found an
Irish maid with a cooking knowledge Of
buttermilk and potatoes, yet willing to
work for the wages of a chef, and in a
few davs began really to live again We
had been Housekeeping about month
when my brother was obliged to so to
Tucson on legal business-sOmething
about the other claimant" / believe,
who always appears when mine begins
to pay anything-and remained over
night.
] was Just sitting down the next morn
ing to a late and solitary breakfast when
suddenly the whistles in all directions be
gan TO blow wildly. / looked out. Men
were pouring out of the mines as fast as
they could come up. The crowds which
surged through the streets day and night
were rushing on to join them, their faces
distorted like demons with some evil pas
sion
Tramp, tramp, on they rushed like
dark river, with cries whose horror was
indescribable. 1t was not the voices of
human beings, but more like the cries
of wild animals, the screaming OF enraged
hyenas, the snarling of tigers, the angry,
inarticulate cries Of thousands of wild
beasts in Infatuated pursuit OF their prey,
yet with a something in il more sinister
and blood-curdling, for they were men,
and added human ferocity.
Nora burst open the kitchen door, pale
as a sheet, and dropped at my feet.
Mother Of God" she, cried and is it
on they rushed from north, south, east
and west, eyes afame, faces distorted,
the brute latent IN every human being
coming out from his lair to blot out the
man, the awful cries rising, waning, wax
ing, as the mob gathered around the Jail
and battered in the door
l tried to leave the window, but, terror
stricken, could not move, and the crowd
surged back.
In their midst half running, half
dragged by rope knotted about his neck,
they brought a mana murderer, him
self about to be murdered.
The hands which drew the rops were
strangled the victim fell before my eyes.
The thirsty exeCutioners halted, lifted
him up loosened the rope, ard gave him
time to get his breath.
He was a grand man physically-tall,
straight, deep-chested, every fiber full of
that life so soon to be quenched. Lucifer
just about to be cast out from heaven
could not have thrown around glance of
more sCornful pride. Thousands against
one" it seemed to say. "Cowards!
What might not such man have been
if-but it was too late.
Run fair, boys said the prisoner,
calmly, run fair! You keep up your end
of the rope and I'll keep up mine"
The crowd moved on a little more slowly
and / saw the tall form keeping up its
end without a tremor of hesitation. As
they neared the telegraph pole, with it's
outstretched arm, | summoned up my
lost strength, and grasping the curtain,
pulled il down, to shut out the dreadful
sight Then came a moment Of sudden,
ominous silence. I sank upon my knees
to pray for the passing soul.
Then a thousand-vOiCed cry of brutal
triumph arose-not to the skies so vile
thing could never find that heavenly blue
IT must have fallen to the regions of the
lost-and they who had hunted man out
of life hurried off to hunt for gold
When | looked up, to and fro on the
white curtain swung the black silhouet of
that which had been a man..
Even now l sometimes hear in the
silence of the night phantom echoes of
those frtghtful voices, and wake shud-
closed by that black figure swinging in the
air. They who speak lightly of a mob
have never heard its voice nor seen it's
work.