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“Mr. Stringer! Mr. Corbett! Come on out here, you got to see this!”
I followed the others down the center aisle to the doorway. Outside, the trees in the square were swaying in the breeze from the oncoming storm. A soft patter of rain had just started to fall.
Right in front of the door, in the center of the lawn fronting the courthouse, was a sight
I had never witnessed before.
A huge cross was planted there.
And it was burning.
Chapter 110
THAT EVENING A nervous and troubled prosecution team met for supper in the dining room of the Stringer home. Allegra, who usually took her meals with the children, decided to join us.
“Louie, isn’t it just amazing how our Ella can turn one little handful of crabmeat into a she-crab soup worthy of Galatoire’s in New Orleans?” Allegra said.
I was thinking, I never knew his name was Louie. Even way back in grammar school, he was always L.J.
L.J. had no time to answer. At that moment a rock exploded the glass of the window above the dining table and skipped across the room. A second rock smashed through the window beside it, then a third. Glass flew everywhere.
“The girls!” Allegra screamed and hurried up the stairs.
I ran after L.J. into the center hall. He opened his gun cabinet and took out three rifles: one for me, one for him, one for Jonah.
L.J. moved quietly along the walls of the front rooms, reaching up to cut off the gaslights so that we could see out and the people outside couldn’t see in.
I saw at least fifty men milling about out there. They looked like the mob from the previous night, only larger. And they were chanting:
Free the Raiders!
Let ’em go!
Free the Raiders!
Let ’em go!
They carried rifles, pistols, and pitchforks, and torches to light their way. I saw some of them holding big branches they must have pulled down from the trees on their way. One man had a bullwhip he kept cracking with a pop like a pistol shot.
Free the Raiders!
Let ’em go!
L.J. stuck his head around the window frame. “Let the jury decide who goes free,” he shouted.
A rock came hurtling across the veranda to shatter the porcelain urn on a pedestal behind me. Another rock crashed through a stained-glass panel beside the front door.
“L.J., get your head in!” Jonah cried. “Don’t be a fool. Or a martyr.”
L.J. stood in full view of the mob, waving his arms, trying to quiet them down, but soon realized that Jonah was right. He stepped back from the window.
“You’ve got to get Allegra and the girls out of here,” I said.
He nodded. “I’ll have Conrad hitch up the carriage. Allegra’s got a sister up in Pricedale. This whole town has gone crazy.”
As L.J. ran from the room, Jonah turned to me. “This town was crazy long before tonight,” he said.
I was sorry to say that I had to agree.
