owned up to it."

"I don't believe it," she exclaimed, "somebody's jest a lyin' on 'em
to git 'em hung because they're niggers."

"Sh--Jane, you're excited, you ain't well; I noticed that when I first
come to-night. Somebody's got to suffer fur that house-burnin', an' it
might ez well be them ez anybody else. You mustn't talk so. Ef people
knowed you wuz a standin' up fur niggers so, it 'ud ruin you."

He had hardly finished speaking, when the gate opened, and another man
joined them.

"Hello, there, Dock Heaters, that you?" said Bud Mason.

"Yes, it's me. How are you, Jane?" said the newcomer.

"Oh, jest middlin', Dock, I ain't right well."

"Well, you might be in better business than settin' out here talkin'
to Bud Mason."

"Don't know how as to that," said his rival, "seein' as we're
engaged."

"You're a liar!" flashed Dock Heaters.

Bud Mason half rose, then sat down again; his triumph was sufficient
without a fight. To him "liar" was a hard name to swallow without
resort to blows, but he only said, his flashing eyes belying his calm
tone, "Mebbe I am a liar, jest ast Jane."

"Is that the truth, Jane?" asked Heaters, angrily.

"Yes, hit is, Dock Heaters, an' I don't see what you've got to say
about it; I hain't never promised you nothin' shore."

Heaters turned toward the gate without a word. Bud sent after him a
mocking laugh, and the bantering words, "You'd better go down, an'
he'p hang them niggers, that's all you're good fur." And the rival
really did bend his steps in that direction.

Another shout arose from the throng down the street, and rising
hastily, Bud Mason exclaimed, "I must be goin', that yell means
business."

"Don't go down there, Bud!" cried Jane. "Don't go, fur my sake, don't
go." She stretched out her arms, and clasped them about his neck.

"You don't want me to miss nothin' like that," he said as he unclasped
her arms; "don't you be worried, I'll be back past here." And in a
moment he was gone, leaving her cry of "Bud, Bud, come back," to smite
the empty silence.

When Bud Mason reached the scene of action, the mob had already broken
into the jail and taken out the trembling prisoners. The ropes were
round their necks and they had been led to a tree.

"See ef they'll do anymore house-burnin'!" cried one as the ends of
the ropes were thrown over the limbs of the tree.

"Reckon they'll like dancin' hemp a heap better," mocked a second.

"Justice an' pertection!" yelled a