Craig folded his arms and looked at the two. He stared at Lowery and slowly said:

"God chose a Jewish girl to be the mother of Jesus Christ, the Savior of the world and you strike a Jew!" The tough scowled and squirmed under the steady gaze until his eyes sought the floor.

The prostrate figure of the orderly stirred. Logan kicked him to his feet. He had already disarmed, tied and gagged him.

Sammy, drawn near to Craig and with eyes wide in wonder and love, stood gazing. He lifted the limp body of his four-footed friend and tried to explain but his voice failed. He could not tell the story. Logan asked:

"Who killed him?"

The boy's face flamed with anger as he sprang forward and pointed to Lowery.

"That man with the double cross on his breast-"

He had scarcely spoken when Logan swung the tough round with his left hand and kicked him through the back door, covering him with his revolver. The dazed orderly, tied and gagged, meekly followed.

Craig pressed a revolver into the hand of Klein.

"Never open that door again," he commanded. "Use your gun from the windows and through the panels. From to-night you are a member of my vigilantes." He took the pistol and promised to obey his orders. From the door Craig called:

"I've some work to do. I'll see you later.”

The danger over, the boy looked at his dead pet and broke again into sobs.

"There—there—” his father soothed. "I'll give you a fine pony and you'll have four swift feet to carry you instead of that lame leg-hush now-that's a good boy-"

The young face brightened for a moment and then the tears blinded him again. He heard the sharp orders of Craig outside, pulled himself together, walked to the rear door and looked out. Logan had gotten the dazed raiders on their feet, tied them in a row, with Lowery in the rear. He arranged them thus so that he could kick the tough every time he thought of the dog.

At Craig's sharp command, with a kick from Logan, the procession moved silently through the deserted streets to Wilkes' house. The rich young slacker had built a pretentious modern "mansion" in the new rich quarter of the town. It stood about two hundred feet from the sidewalk. The intervening space was laid out in imitation of the formal gardens of the North.

On the left of the huge gate which opened in the center, Wilkes had built an iron hitching rack for the use of horseback riders. It stood fully nine feet tall and from the girder chains were suspended with snap hooks that could be instantly fastened to a horse's bridle.

It formed a perfect gallows for the squadron of raiders. Logan obeyed the orders of his Chief to line them up under this rack with a grim laugh. It was exactly what he was going to suggest.

He quickly adjusted a rope around Lowery's neck, threw it over the beam and had begun to pull before Craig could stop him.

"Not that—Ben-no," he protested. "Why not?"

"We'll swing them by the thumbs-"

"Ah, don't bother me!" the countryman cried. "Take a walk

"I mean it,” Craig insisted.

"Let this bunch of rattlesnakes loose with a warning? Not on your life! When you get your heel on a snake's

head, it's a duty to God to mash it. I'm a-goin' ter do my Christian duty-"

Again he pulled on Lowery's line and Craig caught his arm firmly.

"I've given you orders."

“Oh, for God's sake, Chief,” he pleaded, “have a heart. You're goin' to spoil my whole evenin'. This wuz my hunch an' it's worked out beautiful. It's the Providence o' God, I tell ye. These seven blackbirds hangin' on that limb in the mornin'll bring peace an' quiet to the whole country. You're flyin' in the face o' Providence. Hit ain't right. Hit ain't lawful—”

"It's best," Craig interrupted firmly.

Logan studied his Chief in despair. He had never seen him more set. He realized finally that his plan of hanging the seven of them by the neck was impossible. He sought a fair compromise.

"Let me swing the leader by the neck, anyhow?"

"No"

"Lemme shoot at him once in the dark-I couldn't hit him in this poor light."

"No-"

"You're hard on this here community, Chief. Hit's a sinful thing ter let these devils live. I warn ye before God that you're committin' a crime-"

Craig lifted his hand in a stern gesture and Logan ceased to plead. He quickly tied their thumbs, and stretched them from the beams. The lawyer handed him the vicious horsewhip, which he had taken from Lowery. "You can give them each forty-nine lashes if it will cheer you any."

The countryman rolled up his sleeve and softly laughed. "That'll help some."

He ripped their coats and shirts, bared each back, and

rolled up their trouser legs until the bare flesh glistened in the moonlight. He began on Lowery and lashed him with his own whip until he begged and whined for mercy. When he had finished with the leader he whispered to Craig:

"Lemme shoot at him in the dark-once-jest fer luck?"

The lawyer shook his head and he went back to his job and finished it with quiet joy. The last man yelled so loudly that Wilkes, seated in his big library at the back of his house, heard it.

He rushed down to the gate and gazed with amazement at the white swinging figures. He faced Craig angrily. "How dare you swing these men in front of my door?" "Because I'm a man of my word," was the steady

answer.

"I have nothing to do with these fools," Wilkes protested.

"You have everything to do with them," Craig sharply replied. "You organized them. You took in the riffraff, ragtag and bobtail of the county-any skunk that had a vote. You made these disguises. You clothed these scoundrels with them. And you are responsible for every crime committed by the men who wear them—”

He paused.

"Another raid in this county and I'll hang you by the neck-not thumbs-good night."

CHAPTER XX

A SOCIAL FUNCTION

OWERY left the county before dawn and the warning

L

which Craig had given his enemy bore quick fruit.

The story of the raid on Klein, and its dramatic ending with the raiders raided, was published in every newspaper in the state. Its effect was electrical. The Klan suddenly ceased to function as an instrument of revenge and adventure. It settled into a social function with an occasional touch of comedy.

The boys who had failed in their call on Julius, the night they found Henry at the wrong door, persisted in repeating their summons to the Apostle. He had begun a series of revival meetings in the Northern Methodist church, calling its members to come up higher. With each night his fervor increased until he announced not only his sinless perfection and apostolic call, but the fact that he was in daily personal communion with Jehovah himself. Amid a chorus of "Amens" and "Glory-hallelujahs" from the sisters he boldly declared:

"Hear de Lawd's messenger. I'se straight from him. De Lawd come every day ter my house. I sees him wid my own eyes. De debbil doan pester me no mo', de Lawd's sanctified one. I done wipe my weepin' eyes an' gone up on high. Will ye come wid me breddren an' sisters? I walk in de cool er de mawnin' an' de shank er de evenin' wid de Lawd and de Lawd walks wid me. An' I ain't er skeered er nuttin' in heaben above er hell below-"