by Thomas Dixon
CHAPTER VII
THE SNARE OF THE FOWLER
Sweet was the secret joy of old Stoneman over the fate of Ben Cameron. Hisdeath sentence would strike terror to his party, and his prompt execution,on the morning of the election but two days off, would turn the tide, savethe State, and rescue his daughter from a hated alliance.
He determined to bar the last way of escape. He knew the Klan wouldattempt a rescue, and stop at no means fair or foul short of civil war.Afraid of the loyalty of the white battalions quartered in Piedmont, hedetermined to leave immediately for Spartanburg, order an exchange ofgarrisons, and, when the death warrant was returned from headquarters,place its execution in the hands of a stranger, to whom appeal would bevain. He knew such an officer in the Spartanburg post, a man of fierce,vindictive nature, once court-martialed for cruelty, who hated everySouthern white man with mortal venom. He would put him in command of thedeath watch.
He hired a fast team and drove across the county with all speed, doublyanxious to get out of town before Elsie discovered the tragedy andappealed to him for mercy. Her tears and agony would be more than he couldendure. She would stay indoors on account of the crowds, and he would notbe missed until evening, when safely beyond her reach.
When Phil arrived at Charlotte he found an immense crowd at the bulletinboard in front of the _Observer_ office reading the account of thePiedmont tragedy. To his horror he learned of the arrest, trial, andsentence of Ben for the deed which he had done.
He rushed to the office of the Division Superintendent of the Piedmont AirLine Railroad, revealed his identity, told him the true story of thetragedy, and begged for a special to carry him back. The Superintendent,who was a clansman, not only agreed, but within an hour had the specialready and two cars filled with stern-looking men to accompany him. Philasked no questions. He knew what it meant. The train stopped at Gastoniaand King's Mountain and took on a hundred more men.
The special pulled into Piedmont at dusk. Phil ran to the Commandant andasked for an interview with Ben alone.
"For what purpose, sir?" the officer asked.
Phil resorted to a ruse, knowing the Commandant to be unaware of anydifference of opinion between him and his father.
"I hold a commission to obtain a confession from the prisoner which maysave his life by destroying the Ku Klux Klan."
He was admitted at once and the guard ordered to withdraw until theinterview ended.
Phil took Ben Cameron's place, exchanging hat and coat, and wrote a noteto his father, telling in detail the truth, and asked for his immediateinterference.
"Deliver that, and I'll be out of here in two hours," he said, as heplaced the note in Ben's hand.
"I'll go straight to the house," was the quick reply.
The exchange of the Southerner's slouch hat and Prince Albert for Phil'sderby and short coat completely fooled the guard in the dim light. The menwere as much alike as twins except the shade of difference in the colourof their hair. He passed the sentinel without a challenge, and walkedrapidly toward Stoneman's house.
On the way he was astonished to meet five hundred soldiers just arrived ona special from Spartanburg. Amazed at the unexpected movement, he turnedand followed them back to the jail.
They halted in front of the building he had just vacated, and theircommander handed an official document to the officer in charge. The guardwas changed and a cordon of soldiers encircled the prison.
The Piedmont garrison had received notice by wire to move to Spartanburg,and Ben heard the beat of their drums already marching to board thespecial.
He pressed forward and asked an interview with the Captain in command.
The answer came with a brutal oath:
"I have been warned against all the tricks and lies this town can hatch.The commander of the death watch will permit no interview, receive novisitors, hear no appeal, and allow no communication with the prisoneruntil after the execution. You can announce this to whom it may concern."
"But you've got the wrong man. You have no right to execute him," said Benexcitedly.
"I'll risk it," he answered, with a sneer.
"Great God!" Ben cried beneath his breath. "The old fool has entrapped hisson in the net he spread for me!"