Evening star., 1916-04-09
The Man in the Stone House
Continued from page IL
Continued from page ii

Everybody was waiting.
As the old man drove into the square
he looked neither to the right nor to the
left. He seemed utterly oblivious of the
faces that were turned toward him. His
head was thrown back, he held the reins
with the easy grace of a skilful driver, and
there was something so sublimely courage
GUS in his attitude that nobody spoke.
Then, suddenly, an automobile horn
honked.
And now occurred demonstration of
that phenomenon of mob hatred which
Starr had spoken of several hours before.
The first croaking honk was but signal.
Whether it was prearranged signal, no.
body really knew. But, obedient to some
wild, barbaric impulse every horn of the
thirty or forty automobiles parked in the
square began to honk.
Ezra Mudge's grip could be seen to
tighten instinctively on the reins. His
eyes were fixed straight ahead of him.
The horse, quickened and frightened by
the throaty greeting, would have bolted
but for the guidance of q masterful hand.
Honk! Honk! Honk!
1t was cruel. 1t was savage. 1t was
senseless. There could be no defense of
the brutality of it, Starts face Redeemed
and then shaded out to white as he heard
it. Murmurs of "Stop it! Stop that
racket" went from group to group. But
the honking went on: H0nk! Honk! Honk!
Some of the hands on the bulbs were
those of irresponsible youths; but in
many cases it was the owners of the cars
that were guilty. Men who had for years
paid the tribute of respect to the old man
were now sending forth raucous defiance
to him through the medium of this insult
ing din. All the compressed rancor ofagen-
Grafton was expressed in the cannonade.
"By George!" said Starr nervously. at
isn't right. 1t isn't fair. And it'll hurt
us, Joel. Look at the old man! You can't
help admiring his grit. He's a regular
Roman. They don't feaze him bit"
But Joel Tibb was in no such catholic
mood. The honking was music to his ears.
1t spoke for him; it expressed what he had
been aching to express. His turn had come.
ale deserves It'll" Joel cried ecstatically.
aHe's getting what was coming to him.
The old man drove on. 1t was observed
that his weather-worn old face was dull
red and that his jaw trembled. But that
was all. As the last vicious honk died
away, he could be seen driving into the
yard back of the house of Doctor Crumb
one of the few men who now chung to
him-with his head still erect and defiant.
THE seating capacity of the town hall
was entirely inadequate. 1t was soon
apparent that the standing capacity was
likewise inadequate. Boxton had never
seen anything like this: the aisles choked
up, the little gallery overfowing, men and
women lined up at the rear Of the seats,
and pushing, elbowing, neck-craning
crowd outside the doors. There were
strange faces, too; and it was evident that
citizens of other towns had deserted their
own town meetings to enjoy the larger
attraction that Boxton was offering.
The crowd was hysterical, like all
crowds. A loud sneeze, a dry cough, a
cheap witticism, was the signal for an
outburst of laughter and stamping. 1t
was the kind of crowd that has no heart,
no sympathy, and, temporarily, no sense.
1t was the kind Of mob that is capable Of
ANYTHING except Justice.