Georgia -- Fiction; Lynching -- Fiction; United States -- Race relations -- Fiction
WO weeks went by. Great changes had come over the temper of the
insurgent mountain people. They had gradually come to accept the rescue
of Pete Warren as a chance bit of real justice that was as admirable as
it was unusual and heroic. A sufficient number of men had come forward
and testified to Sam Dudlow's ante-mortem confession to exculpate
Carson's client, and some who had a leaning towards Dwight's cause
politically were hinting, on occasion, that surely a man who would take
such a plucky stand for the rights of a humble negro would not be a mere
figure-head in the legislature of the State. At all events, there was
one man who ground his teeth in secret rage over the subtle turn of
affairs, and that man was Wiggin. He still busied himself sowing the
seditious seed of race hatred wherever he found receptive soil, but,
unfortunately for his cause, in many places where unbridled fury had
once ploughed the ground a sort of frost had fallen. Most men whose
passions are unduly wrought undergo a certain sort of relapse, and
Wiggin found many who were not so much interested in their support of
him as formerly when an open and defiant enemy was to be defeated.
Wiggin was puzzled more about Jeff Braider than any one of his former
supporters. Braider was too good a politician to admit that he had in
any way aided Carson Dwight by a betrayal of the plot against him,
for that was exactly the sort of thing Wiggin could hold out to his
constituents as the act of a man disloyal to his official post,
for, guilty or innocent, the prisoner should have been held, as any
law-abiding citizen would admit. As to Pete's guilt Wiggin's opinion
was unchanged, and he made no bones of saying so; he believed, so he
declared, that Pete was Dudlow's accomplice, and the dastardly manner of
his release was a shame and a disgrace to any white man's community.
As for Jeff Braider, he was in such high feather over the success of his
swerving towards the right in the nick of time that he refrained from
drink and wore better clothing. He liked the situation. He felt, now,
that he could serve his country, his God, and himself with a clear
conscience, for Carson Dwight looked like a winner and they had agreed
to work together.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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