The Savannah morning news. (Savannah, Ga.) 1900-current, 1903-03-01

like busy insects, making the place
| hum like a hive, but with the hotter
| industries Of destruction. 1t was emp
| ~ of life as a bomb, but they beat
and tore and battered and broke and
! hammered and shattered like nadmen;
! they reduced the tawdry interior TO a
mere chaos. and came pouring forth
| laden with trophies of ruin. And then
there was a charry smell in the air,
and a slender feather of smoke fioated
up from a second-story window.
! At the same time Watts led an as
| sault on the adjoining house-an as
| sault which came to a sudden pause,
| for, from cracks in the front wall, a
squirrel rifle and a shotgun snapped
| and banged, and the crowd fell back
| in disorder. Homer Tibbs had a hat
| blown away. full of buckshot holes,
while Mr.. Watts solicitously examined
| a small aperture in the skirts of his
brown coat. The house commanded the
| road and the rush of the mob into the
village was checked, but only for the
! instant.
A rickety woodshed, which formed a
| portion of the Skillet mansion. close
| ~ joined the Last Chance" side of the
| family place of business. Scarcely had
| the guns Of the defenders sounded,
| when, with a loud shout, Lige Will
! let's leaped from an upper window on
| that side of the burning saloon and
! landed on the woodshed, and. imme-
! diately climbing the roof of the house
/ itself, applied fiery brand to the
! time-worn Clapboards. Ross 1SChofied
J dropped on the shed, close behind him.
! his arm lovingly enfolding a gallon jug
| of whisky. which he emptied mot
without evident regret) upon the clap
| boards as Lige fired them. Flames
/ broke forth almost instantly. and the
smoke, uniting with that now rolling
| out of every window of the saloon
went up to heaven in a cumbrous, gray
column.
AS the flames began to spread, there
was a rapid fusillade from the rear
of the house, and a hundred men and
more, who had kept on through the
fields to the north assailed it from be-
hind. Their shots passed clear through
the flimsy partitions, and there was a
horrid screeching, like a beasts howls,
from within. The front door was
thrown open, and a lean fierce-eyed
girl, with a case-knife in her hand, ran
out in the face of the mob. At sound
of the shots in the rear they had begun
to advance on the house a second time,
and Hartley Bowlder was the nearest
man to the girl. With awful words.
and shrieking inconceivably, she made
straight for Hartley, and attacked him
with the knife. She struck at him
again and again, and, in her anguish
of hate and fear was so extraordinary
spectacle that she gained for her
companions the four or five seconds
they needed to escape from the house
AS she hurled herself alone at the on
coming torrent, they sped from the
door unnoticed, sprang over the fence,
and reached the open lots to the west
before they were seen by Willetts from
the roof.
Don't let 'em fool YOU" he shouted.
Look to your left! There they go,
Don't let 'em get away"
The Cross Readers We're running
across the field They We're Bob Skill
lett and his younger brother, and Mr..
Skillet was badly damaged; he SEEM
ed to be holding his jaw on his face
with both hands. The girl turned, and
sped after them. She was over the
fence almost as soon as they were.
and the three ran in single file, the
girl last. She was either magnificent
ly sacrificial and fearless or she cum
ningly calculated that the regulat tors
would take no chances of killing a
woman-child, for she kept between
their guns and her two companions,
trying to cover and shield the latter
with her frail body.
onOOIt LlSeb CdlleQ WAITS. IL we
fire from here Wen hit the girl.
Shoot"
Willetts and Ross Schofleld were still
standing on the roof, at the edge, out
of the smoke. and both fired at the
same time. The fugitives did not turn;
they kept on running, and they had
nearly reached the other side of the
field when suddenly, without any pre-
monitory gesture, the elder Skillet
Ia h No
Readers stood by each other that day,
for four or five men ran out of the
nearest shanty into the open, lifted the
PROSTATE figure from the ground, and
began to carry it back with them. But
Mr.. Skillet was alive; his curses We're
heard above all other sounds. Lige and
Schotield fired again, and one of the
reseuers staggered. Nevertheless, as the
two men slid down from the roof, the
burdened Cross Readers were seen to
break into a rum and at that, with
another yell, fiercer, wilder, more joy
Gus than the first, the Plattville men
followed.
The yell rang loudly in the ears of
old Wilkerson, who had remained back
in the road, and at the same instant
he heard another shout behind him.
= Mr.. Wilkerson had not shared in rhe
attack, but, greatly pre-occupied with
OWi dldlIo, was pIO-
| ceeding up the pike alone-eXcept for
the unhappy yellow mongrel, still drag
! ged along by the slip-noose-and al
| ternating, as was his natural won't
| from one fence to the other; crouching
behind every bush to fire an imaginary
| rifle at his dog, and then springing
out, with triumphant bellowings, to fall
prone upon the terrified animal. 1t was
after one of these victories that shout
| of warning was raised behind him, and
Mr. Wilkerson, by grace of the god
| Bacchus, rolling out of the way in time
| to save his life, saw a horse dash by
| nina big, black horse whose polished
TANKS were dripping with lather. War
rem Smith was the rider. He was wav-
ing slip of yellow paper high in the
| air
lie rode up the slope, and drew rein
beyond the burning buildings, just
ahead of those foremost in the pursuit
He threw his horse across the road to
oppose their progress, rose in his stir
rups. and waved the paper over his
head. "Stop!" he roared. "Give me
one minute. Stop" He had a grand
voice; and he was known in many
! parts OF the state for the great bass
| rOnp with which no SfaY.tIaJ hiS i,,r;oc