The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1902-11-08

come onl' turned and went striding down
the street.
My Godr' cried Mr.. Benton. They are
coming here,''
Running toward them along the sidewalk,
distancing the crowd. pale now and trem-
bling, came McKinnon. Quick he cried.
Let me take Miss Elinor round to Judge
Meredith's. She's safe there. Come-come.
Elinor." he pleaded. with outstretched
hand But the blue eyes looked him over
with utter indifference. She would not
even vouchsafe reply.
what in heavens name have you DONE
McKinnon?" cried the father. Surely you
ought to have known it was playing with
fire to arouse these ruffians. But they shall
not touch me or mine! They shall not en-
ter this gate. Go in doors. child" he con-
tinued, turning suddenly to her. But now
it was McKinnon who detained.
stop! You must see.' said he. Here
is what came for him this very night. Now
do you believer"
Benton took the heavy envelope extended
to him. 1t bore the st. Louis postmark
1t had been sliced open with knife. 1t
was addressed to Paul Ladue. Esq. Book
seller and Stationer, East Water Street
- and it contained another envelope
still sealed and unbroken, addressed in
round. clerky hand TO First Lieutenant
Paul Ladue, Eleventh Alabama Infantry,
and bore at the upper left-hand corner the
letters so often used in the old days of the
old army, o. p. S. (on public service), in
stead of the later shibboleth of the War
Department, "Official Business
1T is fatal" said the veteran lawyer,
with a gasp of dismay.
1T is a forgery" said Fred his son.
whereat McKinnon started as though
stung. And now the mob. headed by Hugh
Gale, came swarming to their gate, and
their spokesman, in his resounding basso,
addressed himself to the master.
Squire Benton, ii is my belief that the
man we want is hidden on your premises
Your son has long been his most intimate
friend. Mr.. Ladue invited our committee
to enter and search. Will you do the same?
Or are you going to shelter rebel spies and
traitors?"
''You are not going to enter and search"
answered Benton, sturdily. This city has
been my home since it was a mere village.
For twenty years 1 have worked with it
and for 1t. and no man, woman or child
in this community can point TO wrong
done to one of your number by me or mine.
This is my home, and, by the eternal, you
shall not violate it,!
Hear me, fellow citizens," cried McKin-
non. clambering on the gate and grasping
the boughs of the mountain ash trees that
stood close on either hand. Hear me one
minute!'
shut upr' yelled the crowd. go ahead,
Gale. Were with you," and, suiting ac-
ton TO word, a score of the populace began
climbing the old-fashioned white picket
fence and striving to burst way through
the thick hedge of rose bushes and sturdy
young trees that stretched from flank to
flank along the front of the lot. Others,
running round to the west, swarmed to
the fiat-topped fence bounding the yard on
that side. and two of their plumber, trucu-
lent and daring, leaped down upon the
flower beds and came lunging out across
the grass plot. In an instant Fred Benton,
breaking from Elinor's restraining hands,
sprang to confront them. and without a
word sent his clinched fist square at the
leaders jaw and tumbled him, crashing and
cursing, among the pansies. His fellows
recoiied to the fence, and howl of min
gled wrath and admiration went up from
the mob. Then somebody picked up huge
clod from a pile of soft, fresh-cut sod that
stood by the tree box at the edge of the
gutter, and with practiced hand hurled it
at McKinnon. 1t took that portly coun-
selor 'twixt midriff and gorge just as a
bulky vegetable. hurting through gaslit
space, landed full on his distended cheek.
The combined impact proved too much for
his equilibrium, and, to the shrill delight
of the masses, down he went, ripping out
a branch of mountain ash and a gasp of
mingled protest and profanity. For an in
slant tie onward impulse of the crowd
was stayed, and Gale again began to rum
BILE in dramatic speech, when OF sudden
there arose from the threats of the mob a
yell of triumph and rejoicing. for there, at
the head of the steps, bareheaded in the
soft moonlight, between the white columns
of the portico, stood Paul Ladue, facing
them with flashing eyes and without a
tremor. Another instant, and before Fred
could interpose, light and agile, he bound
ed down the steps, across the lawn. and
vaulted to the fiat-topped fence at the cor
confronted them with uplifted hand. as
though demanding to he heard
For moment the yels and shouts con-
tinued, and there was a rush of the crowd
to the side street. Then curiosity pre-
vailed, and between cries of "Silence!'
DRY upr' Listen, fellers, let's hear what
he has to sayi" and some vigorous Kissing
comparative quiet was restored. and in
ringing, silvery tones, quivering, perhaps,
with excitement, but never a sign of fear.
Ladue addressed them.
who accuses me-and of what am I ac-
cused?" he cried.
You're a damned spy" Rebel
Traitor" Here, give us that letter,
squire" were the yells from the crowd
And then big Gale, the blacksmith. tore a
the pale, quivering face McKinnon's con-
tribution to the evenings disturbance-the
letter he would now have been glad to
withdraw. What have you to say to this,
Mr.. Lieutenant Paul Ladue. Eleventh Ala
bama?'
II say it's a forgery and lier' was the
ringing answer
ANY man would. fixed as you are"
doomed the blacksmith. do you deny
corresponding with your rebel crowd in
Alabama, too?"
mo; and you can see their letters any
time you wish.
Damn their letters!" shouted Gale. Then,