“That may perhaps be so, but at all events every man has a right to a fair trial,” replied his son, “and so long as there is no difficulty in bringing such matters before the civil courts, there is no excuse for Lynch law, which is apt to visit its penalties upon the innocent as well as the guilty.”

At this, George Boyd, who, as the nephew of the elder Mrs. Carrington and a member of the Ashlands household, had been invited with the others, spoke warmly in defence of the organization, asserting that its main object was to defend the helpless, particularly in guarding against the danger of an insurrection of the blacks.

“There is not the slightest fear of that,” remarked Mr. Travilla, “there may be some few turbulent spirits among them, but as a class they are quiet and inoffensive.”

“Begging your pardon, sir,” said Boyd, “I find them quite the reverse;—­demanding their wages directly they are due, and not satisfied with what one chooses to give.  And that reminds me that you, sir, and Mr. Horace Dinsmore, and that carpet-bagger of Fairview are entirely too liberal in the wages you pay.”

“That is altogether our own affair, sir,” returned Mr. Dinsmore, haughtily.  “No man or set of men shall dictate to me as to how I spend my money.  What do you say, Travilla?”

“I take the same position; shall submit to no such infringement of my liberty to do as I will with my own.”

Elsie’s eyes sparkled:  she was proud of her husband and father.  Rose, too, smiled approval.

“Sounds very fine,” growled Boyd, “but I say you’ve no right to put up the price of labor.”

“Papa,” cried young Horace, straightening himself and casting a withering look upon Boyd, “I hope neither you nor Brother Edward will ever give in to them a single inch.  Such insolence!”

“Let us change the subject,” said old Mr. Dinsmore, “it is not an agreeable one.”

It so happened that a few days after this Messrs. Dinsmore, Travilla and Leland were talking together just within the entrance to the avenue at Ion when Wilkins Foster, George Boyd and Calhoun Conly came riding by.

They brought their horses to a walk as they neared the gate, and Foster called out sneeringly, “Two scalawags and a carpet-bagger! fit company for each other.”

“So we think, sir,” returned Travilla coolly, “though we do not accept the epithets you so generously bestow upon us.”

“It is an easy thing to call names; any fool is equal to that,” said Mr. Leland, in a tone of unruffled good-nature.

“True; and the weapon of vituperation is generally used by those who lack brains for argument or are upon the wrong side,” observed Mr. Dinsmore.

“Is that remark intended to apply to me sir?” asked Foster, drawing himself up with an air of hauteur and defiance.

“Not particularly:  but if you wish to prove yourself skilled in the other and more manly weapon, we are ready to give you the opportunity.”