This was agreed to by the meeting, more than one of the audience declaring loudly that Mr. Sanders was the very man for the occasion. By unanimous agreement it was decided that one of the most distinguished lawyers in the State should be retained to defend the young men and that he should be authorised to employ such assistant counsel as he might deem necessary. It was the personality of Meriwether Clopton, rather than his remarks, that soothed and subdued the crowd which had assembled at the court-house. He was serenity itself; his attitude breathed hope and courage; and in the tones of his voice, in his very gestures, there was a certainty that the young men would not be made the victims of political necessity. In his own mind, however, he was not at all sure that the radical leaders at Washington would not be driven by their outrageous rancour to do the worst that could be done. As may be supposed, Mr. Sanders did not allow the grass to grow under his feet. He was the first to leave the court-room, but he was followed and overtaken by Silas Tomlin. "Be jigged, Silas, ef you don't look like you've seed a ghost!" exclaimed Mr. Sanders, whose good-humour had been restored by the prospect of prompt action. "Worse than that, Sanders; Paul has been carried off. If you'll fetch him back, you may show me an army of ghosts. But I wanted to see you, Sanders, about this business. You'll need money, and if you can't get it anywhere else, come to me; I'll take it as a favour." Mr. Sanders frowned and pursed his lips as if he were about to whistle. "You mean, Silas, that if I need money, and can't beg, nor borry, nor steal it, maybe you'll loan me a handful of shinplasters. Why, man, I wouldn't give you the wroppin's of my little finger for all the money you eber seed or saved. Do you think that I'm tryin' to make money?" "But there'll be expenses, William, and money's none too plentiful among our people." Silas spoke in a pleading tone, and his lips were trembling from grief or excitement. Noticing this, Mr. Sanders relented a little in his attitude toward the man. "Well, Silas, when I reely need money, I'll call on you. But don't lose any sleep on account of that promise, for it'll be many a long day before I call on you." With that, Mr. Sanders mounted his horse--known far and wide as the Racking Roan--and was soon out of sight. His destination was the residence of Mahlon Butts, and in no long time his horse had covered the distance. Although the murder of Hotchkiss was more than a week old, a considerable number of negroes were lounging about the premises of Judge Butts--he had once been a Justice of the Peace--and in the road near by, drawn to the spot by that curious fascination which murder or death exerts on the ignorant. They moved about with something like awe, talking in low tones or in whispers. Mr. Sanders tied his horse to a swinging limb and went in. He was met at the door by Mahlon himself.