As each amazing statement in the story was made, the people expressed their opinions in no uncertain terms, breaking out into cries for vengeance at its completion. "Let's sack the shop!" suggested some one. Eagerly was the idea seized and with angry murmurings, like the growls of some gigantic beast of prey enraged, the crowd started toward the store. "Hold on!" yelled the spokesman. "Don't do that! We're going to tar and feather Fred and old Consollas--if we can catch him! If you want to do anything, get feathers. We'll take out the tar and a cauldron." Few of the men and women had ever witnessed such a punishment, and, inspired with the desire to be present, they rushed in all directions, some to get horses and teams to carry them to where the strangers with their prisoner were waiting, others to get feathers, but most of them to strike a short cut to the pasture. Only one of the Roziers, the son, who bore the same name as his father, a chap about twenty years of age, swelled with the wealth and prestige of his family, had been in the crowd. As it dispersed, he rushed to acquaint the others with the startling information of the plot and the penalty that was to be inflicted. With characteristic assumption of prescience, the banker declared that he had always suspected there was a yellow streak in the merchant and set out to find a lawyer that he might attach the goods in the store immediately to protect some notes of Consollas that his bank held. But to the dainty Sally, the punishment seemed cruel and unmerited. "I'm going out to see if I can't save Fred," she announced, springing to her feet and arranging the habit she still wore, after which she gave a few deft touches to her hair. "You'll do nothing of the sort," contradicted her mother, sharply. "The idea of the presumptuous clout thinking you would marry him!" And she gave a sniff more eloquent than words. "That's just why I'm going. The poor fellow isn't all there in his head or he would never have thought of such a thing and it isn't right to do such dreadful things to a half-witted creature." Mrs. Rozier, however, was firm in her refusal to allow her daughter to interfere in the business and her stand was endorsed by her son who protested that Fred had brought ridicule enough on the family without Sally's adding to it by interceding for him. "Then if I can't go, I'll send a note to Mr. Howard. I don't think he'll refuse my request," she flashed, and, before either her mother or brother could prevent, darted from the house which they had rented in a location close to the square. "You must go after her, Forman. I never heard of such a thing. If you don't catch her, ride out to where this horrible business is to take place. You can stand beside Mr. Howard and if anyone tries to give him Sally's note you can take it, telling him that it was written in a burst of impulse and that now Sally regrets it and wishes it back unread."