“Ah indeed, I’m glad to know that. There is only one difficulty. You must be loyal. Your people were rebels, and the new government has determined to have only loyal teachers.” “I think I’m loyal enough to the old flag now that our people have surrendered,” said the girl. “Yes, yes, I dare say, but do you think you can accept the new régime of government and society which we are now establishing in the South? We have abolished the colour line. Would you have a mixed school if assigned one?” “I think I’d prefer to teach a negro school outright to a mixed one,” she said after a moment’s hesitation. Tim continued, “You know we are living in a new world. The supreme law of the land has broken down every barrier of race and we are henceforth to be one people. The struggle for existence knows no race or colour. It’s a struggle now for bread. I’m in a position to be of great help to you and your family if you will only let me.” The girl suddenly rose impelled by some resistless instinct. “May I have the place then?” she asked approaching the door. “Well, now you know it depends really altogether on my fancy. I’ll tell you what I’ll do. You’re still full of silly prejudices. I can see that. But if you will overcome them enough to do one thing for me as a test, that will cost you nothing and of which the world will never be the wiser, I’ll give you the place and more, I’ll remit the ten dollars a month rent you’re now paying. Will you do it?” “What is it?” the girl asked with pale quivering lips. “Let me kiss you--once!” he whispered. With a scream, she sprang past him out of the door, ran like a deer across the lawn, and fell sobbing in her mother’s arms when she reached her home. The next day the town was unusually quiet. Tim had business with the Commandant of the company of regulars still quartered at Hambright. He spent most of the day with him, and walked about the streets ostentatiously showing his familiarity with the corporal who accompanied him. A guard of three soldiers was stationed around Tim’s house for two nights and then withdrawn. The next night at twelve o’clock two hundred white-robed horses assembled around the old home of Mrs. Gaston where Tim was sleeping. The moon was full and flooded-the lawn with silver glory. On those horses sat two hundred white-robed silent men whose closefitting hood disguises looked like the mail helmets of ancient knights. It was the work of a moment to seize Tim, and bind him across a horse’s back. Slowly the grim procession moved to the court house square. When the sun rose next morning the lifeless body of Tim Shelby was dangling from a rope tied to the iron rail of the balcony of the court house. His neck was broken and his body was hanging low--scarcely three feet from the ground. His thick lips had been split with a sharp knife and from his teeth hung this placard: “_The answer of the Anglo-Saxon race to Negro lips that dare pollute with words the womanhood of the South. K. K. K._”