One of our race, accused of certain acts, is about
to be put to death without judge or jury, ostensibly because he committed
a crime,--really because he is a negro, for if he were white he would not
be lynched. It is thus made a race issue, on the one side as well as on
the other. What can we do to protect him?"
"We kin fight, ef we haf ter," replied Josh resolutely.
"Well, now, let us see. Suppose the colored people armed themselves?
Messages would at once be sent to every town and county in the
neighborhood. White men from all over the state, armed to the teeth,
would at the slightest word pour into town on every railroad train, and
extras would be run for their benefit."
"They're already coming in," said Watson.
"We might go to the sheriff," suggested Miller, "and demand that he
telegraph the governor to call out the militia."
"I spoke to the sheriff an hour ago," replied Watson. "He has a white
face and a whiter liver. He does not dare call out the militia to
protect a negro charged with such a brutal crime;--and if he did, the
militia are white men, and who can say that their efforts would not be
directed to keeping the negroes out of the way, in order that the white
devils might do their worst? The whole machinery of the state is in the
hands of white men, elected partly by our votes. When the color line is
drawn, if they choose to stand together with the rest of their race
against us, or to remain passive and let the others work their will, we
are helpless,--our cause is hopeless.
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