“I reckon we better go inside de hospittle, boys,” he exclaimed.  “Den we’ll be behind brick walls, an’ dem other fellows ‘ll be outside, an’ ef dere’s any fightin’, we’ll have de bes’ show.  We ain’ gwine ter do no shootin’ till we’re pestered, an’ dey’ll be less likely ter pester us ef dey can’t git at us widout runnin’ some resk.  Come along in!  Be men!  De gov’ner er de President is gwine ter sen’ soldiers ter stop dese gwines-on, an’ meantime we kin keep dem white devils f’m bu’nin’ down our hospittles an’ chu’ch-houses.  Wen dey comes an’ fin’s out dat we jes’ means ter pertect ou’ prope’ty, dey’ll go ’long ’bout deir own business.  Er, ef dey wants a scrap, dey kin have it!  Come erlong, boys!”

Jerry Letlow, who had kept out of sight during the day, had started out, after night had set in, to find Major Carteret.  Jerry was very much afraid.  The events of the day had filled him with terror.  Whatever the limitations of Jerry’s mind or character may have been, Jerry had a keen appreciation of the danger to the negroes when they came in conflict with the whites, and he had no desire to imperil his own skin.  He valued his life for his own sake, and not for any altruistic theory that it might be of service to others.  In other words, Jerry was something of a coward.  He had kept in hiding all day, but finding, toward evening, that the riot did not abate, and fearing, from the rumors which came to his ears, that all the negroes would be exterminated, he had set out, somewhat desperately, to try to find his white patron and protector.  He had been cautious to avoid meeting any white men, and, anticipating no danger from those of his own race, went toward the party which he saw approaching, whose path would cross his own.  When they were only a few yards apart, Josh took a step forward and caught Jerry by the arm.

“Come along, Jerry, we need you!  Here’s another man, boys.  Come on now, and fight fer yo’ race!”

In vain Jerry protested.  “I don’ wan’ ter fight,” he howled.  “De w’ite folks ain’ gwine ter pester me; dey’re my frien’s.  Tu’n me loose,—­tu’n me loose, er we all gwine ter git killed!”

The party paid no attention to Jerry’s protestations.  Indeed, with the crowd of whites following behind, they were simply considering the question of a position from which they could most effectively defend themselves and the building which they imagined to be threatened.  If Josh had released his grip of Jerry, that worthy could easily have escaped from the crowd; but Josh maintained his hold almost mechanically, and, in the confusion, Jerry found himself swept with the rest into the hospital, the doors of which were promptly barricaded with the heavier pieces of furniture, and the windows manned by several men each, Josh, with the instinct of a born commander, posting his forces so that they could cover with their guns all the approaches to the building.  Jerry still continuing to make himself troublesome, Josh, in a moment of impatience, gave him a terrific box on the ear, which stretched him out upon the floor unconscious.