"
"My son," said I taking him in my arms, "I am your father; wait
about here a few minutes till I can go and get my horse and
carriage, and I will take you to ride."
I ran over to the hotel; ordered my horse to be brought to the door
at once, got into the wagon with Henry and told him that Sarah
Scheimer's boy was just across the way, and that I was going to
carry him off with us. Henry implored me not to do it, and said it
was dangerous. I never stopped to think of danger when my will
impelled me. I did not know that at that moment, men who had noticed
my excited manner, and who knew I was "up to something," were
watching me from the hotel piazza. I drove over where the boy was
waiting, called him to me, and Henry held the reins while I put out
my hands to pull the boy into the carriage. Two of the men who were
watching me came at once, one of them taking the horse by the head,
and the other coming to me and demanding:
"What are you going to do with that boy?"
"Take him with me; he is my son."
"No you don't," said the man, and he laid hold of the boy and
attempted to pull him out of the wagon. I also seized the lad who
began to scream. In the struggle for possession, I caught up the
whip and struck the man with the handle, felling him to the ground.
All the while the other man was shouting for assistance. The crowd
gathered. The boy was roughly torn from me, in spite of my efforts
to retain him. Henry was thoroughly alarmed; and while the mob were
trying to pull us also out of the carriage he whipped the horse till
he sprang through the crowd and was well off in a moment.
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