There was a short pause, then a young man in the noisy group rose. It was Nape Welborne. His mouth was full of the dry crackers he was munching, and little powdery puffs shot from his lips when he began to speak. “Worshipful Knight, an' gentlemen of the Klan,” he began, with an obvious sneer. “I've been asked to say a few words to-night. Considerable dissatisfaction has got up in our body. Things has been proposed that in common decency ought to have gone through, an' they've been put under the table an' nothin' done. The general opinion is that this has come to be a one-man gang.” “Everything's been put to a vote,” Hoag retorted, with startled and yet blunt dignity. Grunts and sniffs of contempt ran through the group of younger men, and when the Captain had secured, order Welborne resumed. It was plain that he was making no effort to disguise his rancor. “Yes, they was snowed under after our _worshipful leader_ showed that he wasn't in for action, an' the men wouldn't move without an authorized head.” “That's no way to put it,” Hoag retorted. “As your leader I had to say what I thought was wisest an' best. I always have done it, an' heard nothin' ag'in' it till now.” “Because you used to have a _little_ more red blood in your veins than you got now, an' that's sayin' powerful little.” The speaker's eyes bore down upon the upturned faces, and was greeted by a loud clapping of hands and boisterous exclamations of agreement. Hoag was white with helpless fury. “You mean to say--damn you--” he began, only to lapse into cautious silence, for there was something in the staring tenseness of the speaker and his crouching supporters which was ominous of a storm that was ready to break. “Be careful, Cap!” It was the voice of Purvynes close behind him, and the sentinel leaned downward on his gun to finish: “They are drunk an' have got it in for you. They are bent on devilin' you tonight an' forcin' an issue. Look sharp!” Welborne had drawn himself up and was silent. Hoag nodded despairingly at the man behind him and said: “Go on with your proposition, Brother Welborne. What is it you want?” Welborne laughed out impulsively. “I see we are gettin' to be kin folks. Well, to come down to hard-pan an' brass tacks, Worshipful Knight, King o' the Mossbacks, I am empowered to say that--” “That he's got cold feet!” a merry voice broke in with an irrepressible giggle. At this Hoag sprang up, but hearing Purvynes' startled warning behind him, and realizing what open resentment on his part would mean, he stood unsteadily for an instant and then sank down. “Go on!” he said, desperately. “We'll hear you out.”