"I'll be roun' yo' way to git a box o' SE-gahs,"laughed the friend, "soon ez de campaign open up good.Dey all goin' vote yo' way, down on the levee bank, but dey sho' expecks to git to smoke a little 'fo' leckshun-day! We knows who's OWfrien'!"Norbert's missive was lengthy and absorbing;Joe went on his way, perusing it with profound attention; but as he descended the stairway to the floor below, a loud burst of angry shouting, outside the building, caused him to hasten toward the big front doors which faced Main Street.The doors opened upon an imposing vestibule, from which a handsome flight of stone steps, protected by a marble balustrade, led to the ground.
Standing at the top of these steps and leaning over the balustrade, he had a clear view of half the yard.No one was near him; everybody was running in the opposite direction, toward that corner of the yard occupied by the jail, the crowd centring upon an agitated whirlpool of men which moved slowly toward a door in the high wall that enclosed the building; and Joe saw that Happy Fear's guards, conducting the prisoner back to his cell, were being jostled and rushed.The distance they had made was short, but as they reached the door the pressure upon them increased dangerously.
Clubs rose in the air, hats flew, the whirlpool heaved tumultuously, and the steel door clanged.