Grand Forks herald. [volume] (Grand Forks, N.D.) 1916-1955, 1920-06-10

come to shooting without actually
pulling the trigger. The leader Of
the three swung his clenched fist be-
fore the Pearlhunter's face and
then and there only that they were
saving him for the rope.
With the knife still sticking in the
dead mans breast, they carried him
down to the boat, driving the Pearl
hunter before them. There they load
ed them in, the dead and the living.
and rowed back up the river to the
the same trip; the same boat; the
same Ave men. Then. a great day
opening; the greatest trade ever made
among pearl fishers along the Wabash
In prospect: now. the day nearly
done; the pearl lost: one Of the men
dead; another likely soon to be!
What a difference in the crowd hat
Ing their prisoner before them, the
three grim henchmen carried the
dead man up the hill to a small plot
Of open ground west Of the Mud Hen
and laid him down upon the grass.
For h second time that day the
village emptied its houses to meet
them. Women came this time-old
women with scared faces: girls with
blooming cheeks and children. Hard
men that had drunk to the Pearl
hunter barely two hours ago came
out of the Mud Hen and stood star
ing at him in sullen silence. Men
from the stores and shops came run
ming. Men that had neither stores
nor shops struggled in from every
quarter Of the village and jostled
about in the e~vergrowing, ominously
!mutterfng circle.
Suddenly, and Unexpectedly, two Of
the henchmen caught the Pearlhunter
and held him while the third tied the
red mask over his eyes,. Bound as he
was he had flung them loose in an
instant and raked the mask off
against his shoulder. But that n
brief moment was enough. The mis-
men muttered and swore; but all
shrank back. widening the circle.
Who started it, who said it first.
will neve be known. Nobody knows
how the mob forms-a low humble;
"a quick flare into frenzy; mild eyes
grown wild: stolid faces anre; a rab-
Bile: a clamor; reason down, blood
lust up.
Even the women took up the cry,
so great was the terror Of his lame
the Red Mask name that might
have stampeded the village. The mob
charged him. Bound AZ he was, he
dashed at them. A butt Of his shoul-
der caught the foremost man. a bur1y
blacksmith, on the jow. He went
down like a beef under the mallet.
IA drive of his head to the pit Of the
stomach crumpled up another. A
Iwel,-directed kick laid out a third.
He fought as the mon Of his blood
had always fought. But what can
one man, with his hands tied, do
against many? They had his blouse
ripped off, his shirt in shreds, and .
hundred hands still itching to get At
him. They beat his face; his body
wherever 4 fist or a club could reach
him. A stick of stove wood in the
hands of a lanky w~oodchopper laid
open an ugly gaah across hts head.
Half-dazed. he was trying to wink
the blood and mist out Of his eyes
when a roar was heard on the out
skirts Of the crowd, and the. stocky
form OF the old Boss was seen lighting
his way into the circle. He had
probably gone up to Fallen Rock. ~
he had promised the night before,
missed the Pearlhunter and come on
to the village. He fought we'll. and
opened . narrow swath. halfway
through the circle to his friend. But
just there somebody struck him