The Man in Gray: A Romance of North and South Part 38

"You have neighbors."

"So I have," Wilkinson agreed, "but they are not here and I cannot go for them unless you allow me."

"It matters not," Brown snapped. "Get ready, sir."

Wilkinson took up his boots to pull them on when Brown signaled his men to drag him out.

Without further words they seized him and hurried into the darkness.

They dragged him a few yards from the house into a clump of dead brush.

Weiner was the chosen headsman. He swung his big savage figure before Wilkinson and his cutla.s.s flashed in the starlight.

The woman inside the darkened house heard the crash of the blade against the skull and the dying groan from the lips of the father of her babies.

When the body crumpled, Weiner knelt, plunged his knife into the throat, turned it and severed the jugular vein.

Standing over the body John Brown spoke to one of his men.

"The horses, saddles and bridles from the stable--quick!"

The huntsman hurried to the stable and took Wilkinson's horse.

It was two o'clock before they reached the home of James Harris on the other side of the Pottawattomie. Harris lived on the highway and kept a rude frontier boarding place where travelers stopped for the night.

With him lived Dutch Henry Sherman and his brother, William.

Brown had no difficulty in entering this humble one-room house. It was never locked. The latch string was outside.

Without knocking Brown lifted the latch and sprang into the room with his son, Owen, and another armed huntsman.

He surveyed the room. In one bed lay Harris, his wife and child. In two other beds were three men, William Sherman, John Whitman and a stranger who had stopped for the night and had given no name.

"You are our prisoners," Brown announced. "It is useless for you to resist."

The old man stood by one bed with drawn saber and Owen stood by the other while Weiner searched the room. He found two rifles and a bowie knife which he pa.s.sed through the door to the guard outside.

Brown ordered the stranger out first. He kept him but a few minutes and brought him back. He next ordered Harris to follow him.

Brown confronted his prisoner in the yard. A swordsman stood close by his side to catch his nod.

"Where is Dutch Henry Sherman?"

"On the plains hunting for lost cattle."

"You are telling me the truth?" Brown asked, boring him through with his terrible eyes.

"The truth, sir!"

He studied Harris by the light of his lantern.

"Have you ever helped a Southern settler to enter the Territory of Kansas?"

"No."

"Did you take any hand in the troubles at Lawrence?"

"I've never been to Lawrence."

"Have you ever done the Free State Party any harm?"

"No. I don't take no part in politics."

"Have you ever intended to do that party any harm?"

"I don't know nothin' about politics or parties."

"What are you doing living here among these Southern settlers?"

"Because I can get better wages."

"Any horses, bridles, or saddles?"

"I've one horse."

"Saddle him and bring him here."

A swordsman walked by his side while he caught and saddled his horse and delivered him to his captors.

Brown went back into the house and brought out William Sherman. Harris was ordered back to bed, and a new guard was placed inside until the ceremony with Sherman should be ended.

It was brief.

Brown had no questions to ask this man. He was the brother of Henry Sherman, the most hated member of the settlement. Brown called Thompson and Weiner and spoke in tones of quick command.

"Take him down to the Pottawattomie Creek. I want this man's blood to mingle with its waters and flow to the sea!"

The doomed man did not hear the sentence of his judge. The two huntsmen caught his arms and rushed him to the banks of the creek. He stood for a moment trembling and dazed. Not a word had pa.s.sed his lips. Not one had pa.s.sed his guards.

They loosed their grip on his arms, stepped back and two cutla.s.ses whistled through the air in a single stroke. The double blow was so swiftly and evenly delivered that the body stood erect until the second stroke of the sharpened blades had cut off one hand and split open the breast.

When the body fell at the feet of the huntsmen they seized the quivering limbs and hurled them into the creek.

They reported at once to their Captain. He stood in front of the house with his restless gaze sweeping the highway for any possible, belated traveler. The one hope uppermost in his mind was that Dutch Henry Sherman might return with his lost cattle in time.

He raised his lantern and looked at his watch. The men who had butchered William Sherman stood with red swords for orders.

Brown had not yet uttered a word. He knew that the work on the bank of the Pottawattomie was done. The att.i.tude of his swordsmen was sufficient.

He asked but one question.