Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1911-07-30

urging them INTO a swift trot. On the
way he kept up running fire of ques-
tions, witticisns, and chuckles. His tone
was casual; but Warren was impressed
with the shrewdnesS of his interrogatlons as
well as the apparent frankness and perfect
readiness of the prisoners replies Sam was
as much of character in his humble way as
the Sheriff. He never deviated from tone
of respect, even affection; but he was ap-
preciative of the Sheriff. countryside humor
and ready with his own until he learned of
the assault and robbery. Then he seemed
genuinely grieved and he was hurt that he
should have been suspected.
@Yo' knows All wouldn lay feathe' on
Miss Marshall, Sheriff Boss!' he said en-
phatically.
Warren's favorable impression of him was
strengthened when he looked him over in the
dim light of the station lamp. His face was
broad, fiat, and trimming with good nature.
His teeth cleaned white in an ever ready
grin.
They left him with Deputy Bowles under
lock and bolt. AS he babe him goodnight
Warren said:
"You don't know what l mean, Sam; but
I'm glad 1 spoiled the story"
@Yas, Suh," Sam acquiesced somewhat
wonderingly.
The Sheriff's manner had been brisk and
businesslike when he turned the prisoner
over to Bowles and gave his instructions.
Once more in the buggy, bound for the court
house. his hilarity was given free rein.
@What are you chortling about?' Warren
demanded.
aSpoilt yo' story, did yo', Boy? That's
good one Well, reckon yo' did, an l owe
you a good turn. Giddap, Luella an Sam
Patch! We got time 70 story yet.
They swept into the still illuminated main
street of the town, the horses going at a
spanking gait.
aWhen we pass the Virginia House yo'
cover up yo' face, an they'll think I've got
the nigger," the Sheriff directed.
THEY whirled round the corner and
passed the hotel at gallop, Warren
hiding his face in his hat. The noise of their
approach had drawn a group of the loafers
out on the veranda, and they set up yell
of mingled delight and derision as they
recognized the Sheriff's team.
"He's got him. Jones has got him! Lynch
him! Come on, Boys!" were the cries, and
with fierce yells and curses they surged
down the steps of the hotel and plunged
after the team The Sheriff had a good
start; but they had hardly left the team in
the Jail yard and rushed inside the building
than the mob was at the front door, clamor
ing Tor abundance PISTOL SnOtS, curses,
threats, and battering at the door made a
hideous din.
@Bring him out, Jones! Get log! Set
fire to it! Well burn yo out, yo' skunk
they yelled in frenzy.
The Sheriff grinned happily at Warren.
The cries seemed music to him.
"There's yo' story" he said. "But l
reckon l can't let EN- burn the jail down TO
yo'."
He went to the front door, silently drew
aside the bolts, and suddenly flung it open,
stepping out on the threshold
@What are yo'all maniacs doin?' he
shouted at the astonished leaders. "Ill be
lockin' some O you up presently
There was an instant's pause. Then they
rushed at him, mad with drink and race
passion, ugly, beastlike. Unresisting the
Sheriff was swept back from the door, and
dozen hands seized him. Clamorous tongues
roared threats and demanded the surrender