before had been sunken in
apathy, was now filled with terrific excitement. Men were running from
every direction toward the post office, stumbling over yelping dogs,
shouting, waving their arms as they ran.

In front of the post office, in the yellow flare of the setting sun,
Acres and Coleman beheld a scene which contained all the elements of
dignity, rage, pathos, and comedy.

Judge Regis stood with his silk hat perfectly level upon his head, his
cane tucked under his arm, and he was looking over the spread sheet of
the Jordantown _Signal_ very much as if he stared at an enemy over the
top of an impregnable fortification.

In front of him Colonel Marshall Adams pranced like an old bird kicking
his wings. His hat and coat lay upon the pavement. His face was a red
map of rage. He held a copy of the _Signal_ between the thumb and
forefinger of his left hand, and at arm's length, as if closer contact
with it meant unbearable pollution. And as he trod his measure, his
right fist shot out at regular intervals, each time nearer and nearer
the Judge's nose, and with each motion the Colonel sent forth that
ear-splitting yell which had not been heard in Jordantown since a
Confederate regiment charged a Federal division there in 1864.

Bob Sasnett was the first to reach the scene. He seized the Colonel
around the waist from behind, dragging him back so that his red slippers
turned up on the heels and showed the soles.

"Look at him, gentlemen! That man has committed a crime!" the Colonel
shouted to the gathering crowd as he shook an accusing finger at Regis.

"A crime?" came an incredulous voice.

Regis, calmly folding his paper, looked over the head of his accuser and
addressed Sasnett.

"Thank you, Sasnett, for saving his dignity. He was a brave soldier. We
must never forget that," he said, lifting his hat impersonally to
courage as he made his way out of the ring of staring faces.

"Let me go, Bob!" screamed the Colonel, struggling. "Did you hear him?
_Was_ a brave soldier. By Gad, what am I now? And this from a man who
would destroy the sanctity of fair womanhood, and then barricades
himself behind a newspaper when I demand shatisfaction."

"What's the old boy talking about?" demanded Briggs, stretching his neck
to get a view of the Colonel.

"If you don't believe what I shay, though I dare any man to doubt my
word, read that!" he cried, flinging the paper from him.

The _Signal_ fell flat and smooth upon the p