The better class of Negroes--by that is meant those who were particularly envious of Asbury's success--flocked to the new man's standard. But whether the race be white or black, political virtue is always in a minority, so Asbury could afford to smile at the force arrayed against him. The new faction met together and resolved. They resolved, among other things, that Mr. Asbury was an enemy to his race and a menace to civilisation. They decided that he should be abolished; but, as they couldn't get out an injunction against him, and as he had the whole undignified but still voting black belt behind him, he went serenely on his way. "They're after you hot and heavy, Asbury," said one of his friends to him. "Oh, yes," was the reply, "they're after me, but after a while I'll get so far away that they'll be running in front." "It's all the best people, they say." "Yes. Well, it's good to be one of the best people, but your vote only counts one just the same." The time came, however, when Mr. Asbury's theory was put to the test. The Cadgerites celebrated the first of January as Emancipation Day. On this day there was a large procession, with speechmaking in the afternoon and fireworks at night. It was the custom to concede the leadership of the coloured people of the town to the man who managed to lead the procession. For two years past this honour had fallen, of course, to Robinson Asbury, and there had been no disposition on the part of anybody to try conclusions with him. Mr. Morton's faction changed all this. When Asbury went to work to solicit contributions for the celebration, he suddenly became aware that he had a fight upon his hands. All the better-class Negroes were staying out of it. The next thing he knew was that plans were on foot for a rival demonstration. "Oh," he said to himself, "that's it, is it? Well, if they want a fight they can have it." He had a talk with the party managers, and he had another with Judge Davis. "All I want is a little lift, judge," he said, "and I'll make 'em think the sky has turned loose and is vomiting niggers." The judge believed that he could do it. So did the party managers. Asbury got his lift. Emancipation Day came. There were two parades. At least, there was one parade and the shadow of another. Asbury's, however, was not the shadow. There was a great deal of substance about it--substance made up of many people, many banners, and numerous bands. He did not have the best people. Indeed, among his cohorts there were a good many of the pronounced rag-tag and bobtail. But he had noise and numbers. In such cases, nothing more is needed. The success of Asbury's side of the affair did everything to confirm his friends in their good opinion of him. When he found himself defeated, Mr. Silas Bingo saw that it would be policy to placate his rival's just anger against him. He called upon him at his office the day after the celebration. "Well, Asbury," he said, "you beat us, didn't you?"