“Well, they say they are going to give you feathers mixed with tar so you won’t lose them so easily.” “I’ll have company, I reckon,” said the deacon with a wink. “The funny thing, deacon, is that Major Dameron tells me there isn’t a man in all the crowd of two hundred and fifty arrested who ever went on a raid. It’s too bad you old fellows have to pay for the follies of youth.” “It is tough. But we can stand it, Preacher.” They clasped hands. “Haven’t smelled a coward anywhere have you, deacon?” “I’ve seen one or two a little fidgety, I thought. Cheer ’em up with a word, Preacher.” Springing on the platform of the judge’s desk he looked over the crowd for a moment, and a cheer shook the building. “Boys, I don’t believe there’s a single coward in our ranks.” Another cheer. “Just keep cool now and let our enemies do the talking. In ten days every man of you will be back at home at his work.” “How will we get out with the writ suspended?” asked a man standing near. “That’s the richest thing of all. A United States judge has just decided that the Governor of the state cannot suspend the rights of a citizen of the United States under the new Fourteenth Amendment to the Constitution so recently rammed down our throats. Hogg is hoisted on his own petard. Our lawyers are now serving out writs of _Habeas Corpus_ before this Federal judge under the Fourteenth Amendment, and you will be discharged in less than ten days unless there’s a skunk among you. And I don’t smell one anywhere.” Again a cheer shook the building. An orderly walked up to the Preacher and handed him a note. “What is it?” “Read it!” The men crowded around. “Read it, Major Dameron, I’m dumb,” said the Preacher. “A military order from the dirty rascal. Berry, commanding the mountain bummers, forbidding the Rev. John Durham to speak during his imprisonment!” A roar of laughter followed this announcement. “That’s cruel! It’ll kill him!” cried deacon Kline as he jabbed the Preacher in the ribs. In a few minutes, the Preacher was back in his place with five of the best singers from his church by his side. He began to sing the old hymns of Zion and every man in the room joined until the building quivered with melody. “Now a good old Yankee hymn, that suits this hour, written by an an old Baptist preacher I met in Boston the other day!” cried the Preacher. “My country ’tis of thee, Sweet land of liberty, Of thee I sing!” Heavens, how they sang it, while the Preacher lined it off, stood above them beating time, and led in a clear mighty voice! Again the orderly appeared with a note. “What is it now?” they cried on every side. Again Major Dameron announced “Military order No. 2, forbidding the Rev. John Durham to sing or induce anybody to sing while in prison.”