The sudden and startling discovery of Maj. Buell Hampton’s misdeeds on the day before had intimidated many into partial inaction. Twenty-four hours had changed all this, however, and a love for their idol, the man of gentle manners and of generous acts, rose up before them like a spirit from the martyr’s grave. The eyes of the gaunt and half-famished women were red with weeping, while mutterings of vengeance were heard on every side from the lips of disappointed and restless men. Some few seemed inclined to blame Captain Osborn for his assurance of the prisoner’s safety, in his speech of the night before. A part of the men went in search of the sheriff, only to find that he had taken an early train for Kansas City. Captain Osborn’s high standing and known friendship for Major Hampton, however, protected him from general censure, but the sheriff was branded as a Judas and a traitor. Judge Linus Lynn, during the afternoon, climbed on top of a dry-goods box in the middle of the public square, and made a speech. The people were quite ready to listen to eulogies pronounced in behalf of their lost benefactor, and Judge Lynn made Major Hampton’s charities and nobleness of heart his theme. He promised them that the Patriot should be issued on the following day under his management, and that he would map out and publish a plan looking toward disinterring the body of Major Hampton from Dead Man’s Hollow and giving it a decent Christian burial in Graceland Cemetery. The people contented themselves with this arrangement, and returned to their homes. The next day was Thursday, and, when the Patriot made its appearance, half the population of the surrounding country was waiting for a copy. Judge Lynn was the hero of the hour. His editorial, entitled “The Death of a Martyr,” was, indeed, an able and forceful presentation of facts from the farmers’ and Barley Hullers’ point of view. The plan suggested by Judge Lynn was that the people should assemble en masse the following Saturday and give a proper burial to the remains of the founder of the Barley Hullers, and that the ceremonies should be conducted under the auspices of that order. The suggestions were at once approved, and on the following Saturday there assembled on the streets of Meade such a gathering of people as had never before been seen on the frontier of the Great Southwest. The Barley Hullers from all over the district, wearing sprigs of barley as boutonnihres, occupied the places of honor next to Mr. Horton’s carriage, in which were Marie, Hugh, Mrs. Horton, and Ethel. They were escorted to Dead Man’s Hollow by the village band, which played a funeral march. In all the vast concourse of people that followed, there was not one but cherished tender memories for Buell Hampton.