"Now for the judgment!" called one of the masked lads, in what
he meant to be a sepulchral tone. "What is the charge against the
prisoner? Brother Number One of the Deep Forest Throng, what is
your accusation?"
"He's a regular snob, that's what's the trouble," answered
Andy Foger, though whether he was "Brother Number One," did not
appear. "He's too fresh and--and--"
"I'll make you wish you felt fresh when I get hold of you,
Andy," murmured Tom.
"Quiet!" cried a tall lad. "What's the next charge?"
"He keeps an old colored man on guard at his place," was the
answer, and Tom had no difficulty in recognizing the voice of Sid
Holton. "The coon throws whitewash all over us. I got some of
it."
"You wouldn't have, if you'd minded your own business,"
retorted Tom. "It served you right!"
"What is the verdict on the prisoner?" asked one who seemed to
be the leader.
"I say let's tar and feather him!" cried Andy suddenly.
"There's a barrel of tar back in the woods here, and we can get
some feathers from a chicken coop. That would make him so he
wouldn't be so uppish, I guess!"
"That's right! Tar and feathers!" exclaimed several.
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