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Updated: June 6, 2025
Excited crowds on the one or two streets which the hamlet boasted, cried "Lynch 'em, lynch 'em! Hang the niggers up to the first tree!" Jane Hunster was in one of the groups, as the shivering negroes passed, and she turned very pale even under the sunburn that browned her face. The law-abiding citizens of Barlow County, who composed the capturing party, were deaf to the admonitions of the crowd.
They passed and repassed the place, where stationed on the little wooden shelf that did duty as a doorstep, Jane Hunster sat with her head buried in her hands. She did not raise up to look at any of them, until a hand was laid on her shoulder, and a voice called her, "Jane!" "Oh, hit's you, is it, Bud," she said, raising her head slowly, "howdy?"
Conjecture was rife, but futile, until old 'Lias Hunster, who though he hated Williams, was shocked at the deed, voiced the popular sentiment by saying, "Look a here, folks, I tell you that's the work o' niggers, I kin see their hand in it." "Niggers, o' course," exclaimed every one else. "Why didn't we think of it before? It's jest like 'em."
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