That night even, Brutus Dean was going to speak near by, and Chad and Caleb Hazel went to hear him.  The fierce abolitionist first placed a Bible before him.

“This is for those who believe in religion,” he said; then a copy of the Constitution:  “this for those who believe in the laws and in freedom of speech.  And this,” he thundered, driving a dagger into the table and leaving it to quiver there, “is for the rest!” Then he went on and no man dared to interrupt.

And only next day came the rush of wind that heralds the storm.  Just outside of Lexington Chad and the school-master left the mare and colt at a farm-house and with Jack went into town on foot.  It was Saturday afternoon, the town was full of people, and an excited crowd was pressing along Main Street toward Cheapside.  The man and the boy followed eagerly.  Cheapside was thronged—­thickest around a frame building that bore a newspaper sign on which was the name of Brutus Dean.  A man dashed from a hardware store with an axe, followed by several others with heavy hammers in their hands.  One swing of the axe, the door was crashed open and the crowd went in like wolves.  Shattered windows, sashes and all, flew out into the street, followed by showers of type, chair-legs, table-tops, and then, piece by piece, the battered cogs, wheels, and forms of a printing-press.  The crowd made little noise.  In fifteen minutes the house was a shell with gaping windows, surrounded with a pile of chaotic rubbish, and the men who had done the work quietly disappeared.  Chad looked at the school-master for the first time:  neither of them had uttered a word.  The school-master’s face was white with anger, his hands were clinched, and his eyes were so fierce and burning that the boy was frightened.

CHAPTER 15.  TO COLLEGE IN THE BLUEGRASS

As the school-master had foretold, there was no room at college for Jack.  Several times Major Buford took the dog home with him, but Jack would not stay.  The next morning the dog would turn up at the door of the dormitory where Chad and the school-master slept, and as a last resort the boy had to send Jack home.  So, one Sunday morning Chad led Jack out of the town for several miles, and at the top of a high hill pointed toward the mountains and sternly told him to go home.  And Jack, understanding that the boy was in earnest, trotted sadly away with a placard around his neck: 

I own this dog.  His name is Jack.  He is on his way to Kingdom Come.  Please feed him.  Uncle Joel Turner will shoot any man who steels him.  Chad.

It was no little consolation to Chad to think that the faithful sheep-dog would in no small measure repay the Turners for all they had done for him.  But Jack was the closest link that bound him to the mountains, and dropping out of sight behind the crest of the hill, Chad crept to the top again and watched Jack until he trotted out of sight, and the link was broken.  Then Chad went slowly and sorrowfully back to his room.