As many as could lay hands upon him did so, and they carried this Second-lieutenant of the National Guards, this County Commissioner, this graduate of a Freedman’s High School, this teacher of a colored school, this correspondent of the —— —— _Times_, this influential Republican, this husband and father, this young man who bore the general reputation of being a straightforward and truthful man, a man that could be depended on, and had a great deal of resolution; not a violent man, not given to insolence nor trouble of any kind, a pleasant and affable man though one of spirit, this American citizen, and they bore him away to be sacrificed. By main force they took him several rods down the street and into the edge of a field. Each individual of the crowd panted for a share in so great a service to southern Democracy. When he was allowed to stand upon his feet again, he looked around upon a wall of circular steel mouths, each ready to belch forth hot, blazing, sulpherous, leaden death; for every man presented the muzzle of his gun or pistol at the hapless victim. Falling upon his knees he cried out, with clasped hands and upturned face, “Oh, God! there is neither justice nor mercy upon the earth! I cast my naked soul and all I have upon Thy mercy!” He paused and pressed his hands over his face. A tremendous volley, followed, and Alden Watta’s soul leaped into the presence of that Judge whom no Ku Klux Klans can corrupt or intimidate; and the murderous throng hastened back to procure another victim. “Oh, Free, and all of yo’, what is yo’ gwoine on so a beggin’ fo’?” said Dan Pipsie. “If dey is gwoine to kill us all anyhow, what is de use o’ beggin’ so? I only wish I had some o’ my wife’s ’ligion now; and I’d like fo’ her to pray fo’ me.” The committee soon returned from the court, and announced the Armorer of the militia company, Dan Pipsie, as the next condemned. With an air of perfect indifference he arose and accompanied the murderers to the field of blood. A volley was heard, and the committee returned, but Dan did not. Ham Sterns was the next called. He was a large mulatto, and was sick. “O. Gentlemen!” he pleaded, “I haven’t done anything. What do you want to kill me fo’? I a’n’t a member of the militia company, and I was just peaceable at home when some of you just come and dragged me out here; and now you’re going to kill me. I a’n’t even a ’publican leader. Please let me go!” “Ham Sterns, I reckon yo’ know _me_,” hissed an evil-eyed, sallow-faced man, stepping before him, and shaking his fist in his face. “Now I’ll be quits with you on that sale affair; you and Alf Minton. I’ll learn yo’ to outbid me!” “Come out here! come out here?” shouted the mob, and Ham Sterns was led away. The guns fired, and the committee returned, but Ham Sterns never did. “Oh them tremendously firings!” said Sam Henry, with a shudder of horror, as he buried his face in his palms and began earnestly to pray for divine deliverance.