Evening times-Republican. [volume] (Marshalltown, Iowa) 1890-1923, 1904-03-25

- sss = $50
lifted the heads of men whose sallow
ness became u sickish white as the child
few by.
The mob was carefully organized
They had taken their time and had
prepared everything deliberately, know
ing that nothing could stop them. No
one had any thought of concealment:
it was all as open as the light of day,
, all done in the broad sunshine. Moth
ing had. been determined as to what
was to be done at the Crossroads more
definite than that the place was to be
wiped out That was comprehensive
enough; the details were quite certain
to occur. They were all on foot, march
ing in fairly regular ranks. In front
walked Mr.. Watts the man Harkless
had abhorred in public spirit and be-
friended In private. Today he was q
hero and 4 leader. marching to avenge
his professional oppressor and personal
brother. Cool. unruffied and to out
ward vision unarmed. marching the
miles in his brown frock coat and gem
erous linen, he led the way. On one
side Of him we're the two Bowlders, on
the other was Lige Willetts, Mr.. Watts
preserving peace between the young
men with perfect tact and sang froid.
They kept good order and simili-
tude of quiet for so many except far to
the rear. where old Wilkerson was
bringing up the tail of the procession,
dragging wretched yellow dog by
rope fastened around the poor ours
protesting neck, the knot carefully ar
ranged under his right ear. In spite Of
every command and protest Wilkerson
had marched the whole way uproari-
ously singing "John Browns Body
, The sun was in the west when they
came in sight of the Crossroads, and
the cabins on the low slope stood out
angularly against the radiance beyond.
AS they beheld the hated settlement
the heretofore orderly ranks showed a
disposition to depart from the steady
advance and rush the shanties. Will
let's, the Powders, Parker, Ross Scho-
field and dozen others did, In fact,
break away and set a sharp pace up
the slope.
Watts tried to call them back.
"What's the use your gettin' killedw
he shouted.
"Why not?" answered Lige, and, like
the others, was increasing his speed
when old Windy" rose up suddenly
from the roadside ahead Of them and
motioned them frantically to go back.
They're laid out along the fence wait
In fer ye," he warned them. "Git out
the road. Come by the fields. Fer the
Lords sake, spreadn Then as sudden
~ as he had appeared he dropped down
into the weeds again. Lige and those
with him paused, and the whole body
came to halt while the leaders con-
suited. There was a sound Of metallic
clicking and thin rattle Of steel. From
far to the rear came the voice Of old
Wilkerson:
John Browns body lies a-moldering in
the ground
John Browns body lies a-moldering in
the ground"
A few near him as they stood wait
ing began to take up the burden OF the
song, singing 1t In slow time like a
dirge Then those farther away took
it up. 1t spread, reached the leaders.
They, too, began to sing, taking on
their hats as they Joined in, and soon
the whole concourse, solemn, earnest,
uncovered, was singing-a thunderous
requiem for John Harkless.
The sun was swinging lower, and
the edges of the world were embroider
ed with gold, while that deep volume
of sound shook the air, the song of
stern. savage, just cause-sung perhaps
as some of the ancestors of these men
sang with Hampden before the bris-
Ting walls OF hostile city. 1t had
iron and steel in it. The men lying on
their guns in the ambuscade along the
fence heard the dirge rise and grow
to its mighty fullness, and they SILVER
ed. One Of them, posted nearest the
advance, had his rifle carefully leveled
road. When he heard the singing he
turned to the man next behind him
and laughed harshly, II reckon We'll
see big jamboree other side Jordan
tonight, huh?"
The huge murmur Of the chorus ex-
banded and gathered in rhythmic
strength and swelled to power and
rolled and Numbered across the plain.
"John Browns body lies a-moldering In
the ground.
John Browns body lies a-moldering In
the ground,
John Browns body lies a-moldering In
the ground,
His soul goes marching on!
Glory, glory. halleluiah!
Glory. glory, halleluiah!
Glory, glory. halleluiah!
His soul goes marching on!''
A gun spat fire from the higher
ground, and Willetts dropped where
he stood, but was up again in a second,
with red line across his forehead
where the ball had grazed his temple.
The mob spread out like fan, the
men climbing the fence and beginning
the advance through the fields thus