ut and be free!"
and she threw her apron over her head and wept, gathering her children
in her arms.

But even as she cried a flash and tremor shook the South. Far away to
the north a great spider sat weaving his web. The office looked down
from the clouds on lower Broadway, and was soft with velvet and leather.
Swift, silent messengers hurried in and out, and Mr. Easterly, deciding
the time was ripe, called his henchman to him.

"Taylor, we're ready--go South."

And John Taylor rose, shook hands silently, and went.

As he entered Cresswell's plantation store three days later, a colored
woman with a little boy turned sadly away from the counter.

"No, aunty," the clerk was telling her, "calico is too high; can't let
you have any till we see how your cotton comes out."

"I just wanted a bit; I promised the boy--"

"Go on, go on--Why, Mr. Taylor!" And the little boy burst into tears
while he was hurried out.

"Tightening up on the tenants?" asked Taylor.

"Yes; these niggers are mighty extravagant. Besides, cotton fell a
little today--eleven to ten and three-fourths; just a flurry, I reckon.
Had you heard?"

Mr. Taylor said he had heard, and he hurried on. Next morning the long
shining wires of that great Broadway web trembled and flashed again and
cotton went to ten cents.

"No house this year, I fear," quoth Mr. Maxwell, bitterly.

The next day nine and a half was the quotation, and men began to look at
each other and asked questions.

"Paper says the crop is larger than the government estimate," said
Tolliver, and added, "There'll be no painting this year." He looked
toward the Smith School and thought of the five thousand dollars
waiting; but he hesitated. John Taylor had carefully mentioned seven
thousand dollars as a price he was willing to pay and "perhaps more."
Was Cresswell back of Taylor? Tolliver was suspicious and moved to delay
matters.

"It's manipulation and speculation in New York," said Colonel Cresswell,
"and the Farmers' League must begin operations."

The local paper soon had an editorial on "our distinguished fellow
citizen, Colonel Cresswell," and his efforts to revive the Farmers'
League. It was understood that Colonel Cresswell was risking his whole
private fortune to hold the price of cotton, and some effort seemed to
be needed, for cotton dropped to nine cents within a week. Swift
negotiations ensued, and a meeting of the executive committee of the
Farmers' League was held in