"No," said Keith, out of his local knowledge. "They're merely taking him to the county jail; it's stronger." They followed the crowd to the wide open space below the county jail. The latter was at that period a solidly built one-story building situated atop a low bluff. Below it the marshal had drawn up his officers. They stood coolly at ease. The mob, very excited, vociferated, surged back and forth. North and his men, busily and coolly, but emphatically, were warning them, over and over again, not to approach nearer. A single, concerted rush would have overwhelmed the few defenders; but the rush was not made. Nevertheless, it could not be doubted that this time the temper of the people was very determined. The excitement was growing with every minute. Cries again took coherence. "Hang him!" "Arrest the officers!" "Good, that's it!" "Let's take the jail!" A man burst through the front ranks, clambered up the low bluff on which stood the jail, turned, and attempted to harangue the crowd. He was instantly torn down by the officers. He fought like a wild cat, and the crowd, on the hair trigger as it was, howled and broke forward. But Marshal North, who really handled the situation intelligently, sharply commanded his men to desist, and instantly to release the orator. He knew better than to allow the matter to come to an issue of strength. Intensely excited, the man shouldered his way through the crowd, and, assisted by many hands, mounted the balcony of a two-story house. Thence he began to harangue, but so great was the confusion that he could not be heard. "Who is he?" "Who is that man?" voices cried from a dozen points. George Frank, a hotel keeper, possessed of a great voice, shouted back: "That is Thomas King--" An officer seized Frank hastily by the collar. "Stop or I'll arrest you!" he threatened. "--brother of James King of William!" bellowed Frank, undaunted. "Bully for you!" muttered Johnny Fairfax, whose eyes were shining. Keith was watching the whole scene from beneath the brim of his hat, his eyes sombre and expressionless. Johnny glanced at him from time to time, but said nothing. From the balcony Thomas King continued to harangue the crowd. Little of what he said could be heard, but he was at a white heat of excitement, and those nearest him were greatly aroused. An officer made a movement to arrest him, but a hasty message from the sapient North restrained that. At that moment a great cheer burst out from the lower end of the street. Over the heads of the crowd could be distinguished the glint of file after file of bayonets. "That's the ticket!" cried an enthusiast near Keith and Johnny. "Here come the militia boys! Now we'll soon have the jail!" The bayonets bobbed steadily through the crowd, deployed in front of the jail, and turned to face the mob. A great groan went up. "Sold!" cried the enthusiast.