the voice of prudence, he took another route, without going to his house, and came to ours.

The night was dark, and very wet, the rainy season having fairly set in. I had left fire and light burning, and had just gone up stairs. Hearing the door open softly, I went down again, and so perfect was the disguise of this familiar friend, that, without recognizing him, I said, "Good-evening; " and was only sure of his identity, though I took the extended hand, when he said, "You don't know me?" The life of this friend would not have been one moment safe had he fallen into the hands of the foe. They swore vengeance upon him hourly, and it was decided that, as his life was precious, not only to his family and friends, but to the free-state cause, he risked too much by remaining here, and he must leave. He had had several narrow escapes; at one time, driving near a house, and dismounting, while the enemy were in hot pursuit, he taking a footpath into a ravine close by, while a friend near put spurs to his horse, outstripped the enemy, and effectually misled them.

The house of Mr. Speer had been repeatedly searched for him. Sam. Salters went again with some dragoons, a few days since, and entreated them that they would do the despicable work for him. They refused to do so, as it was beyond the province of their duties. So, striking around with a hammer, which he picked up, to show his valor, he at last declared, "he would go in," and, opening the door, was greeted by a dash of hot water in his face.

Mrs. Speer then said, "I have respect for the United States troops. You can search the house, but, as for this puke of a Missourian he shall not come in." The troops enjoyed this unceremonious salutation, given by the Ohio lady to the brave official.

Over at the Wakarusa, something like the following colloquy passed between the troops and Salters. They had approached a house where Salters was hoping to find one of the rescuers. Salters said to them, pointing to different localities, "You stand at those points." The design evidently was to intercept any one who might attempt to pass from the house.

The dragoons replied, citizens."

"It is not our business to arrest

With oaths, the sheriff again told them to take the places designated; but their reply, "We are to protect you, and how can we do it, if we are stationed so far away?" mollified his anger somewhat, as he remembered he had not had his life insured.

His courage, too, was exemplified by an attempted arrest of one of the rescuers last winter. He called at the house of one of the men on the Wakarusa, against whom he had a process, and Mrs. A. opened the door. Salters inquired, "Where is Mr.

A.?"

She knew the sheriff by sight, and was determined he should not see Mr. A., and said, very calmly, "He is in the house." "I want to see him."

"What do you want to see him for?"

"I have business with him."

"Well, you can't come in."

Some other like conversation followed, when Salters turned away to report that Mrs. A. had a pistol in her hand, and he had been in danger of being shot. When he knocked, Mrs. A. was putting wood in the stove, and went to the door with a little stick in her hand. Thus are our people continually harassed at the instigation of the administration. For several days the troops were about, attempting to find some one to assist the sheriff in arresting; although, in the manliness of their hearts, they loathed such service, and sympathized in the expression of one of them, on their first arrival at Lawrence, "We have never been ashamed of the United States service until now. We never were in such vile work before." Indignation fires the hearts of many of our people. The feeling is so strong, that continual efforts, on the part of the leading men, are necessary to restrain the men from resistance, and the danger is imminent that some one, pressed beyond the verge of human endurance, may, in an unguarded hour, yield to his impulses, and a hasty but ill-judged resistance bring on us the horrors of civil war.

Called, a few days since, upon a friend, who was living in a house, which was scarcely a shelter from the storms, and whose

husband had been trying to make it more comfortable by his own efforts, when he was driven away by these villains, under the cover of law. The lady had been telling me, how, amid discouragements, this house had been erected; how she had been hoping. to have it finished, so the rains would not beat in; and, just as the lumber was sawed, her husband, leaving her ill, had to flee out into the country.

She said, that morning she placed the rifle in the window, and told a young girl in the family, if she saw Salters coming, to let her know, and she would shoot him before he reached the house. By the determination of her countenance, I have no doubt she would have carried the resolution into effect. Yet, naturally, she was not a bold woman, but one of a timid, sensitive nature, to whom the change from the refinements and ease of city life to pioneer privations was enough to bear.

While I was there the husband came in, saying, as he sat down his rifle, and wiped the moisture from his brow, "I will not run again."

"But what will you do?" was the simultaneous query of us both.

"I will protect myself," was the bold, defiant reply.

"Yes, I will fight anybody. If I live under a government that does not protect me, then I will protect myself, Frank Pierce or no Frank Pierce."

This reveals the state of feeling as well as mere words can. It is intense, and every hour deepens it.

No clue has been found to the intended murderer of Jones. All efforts in that direction have proved futile. The safety of all our people demands that perpetrators of such deeds should be brought to justice. Many feared, at first, that the act was committed by some free-state man, who had been goaded on to vengeance by wrongs unparalleled under forms of law, which leave the wrongdoer to go unwhipt of justice, and oppress innocent and peaceable The impression prevailing now, in reference to the attempted assassination of Jones, is, that some fellow-gambler sought his life, and, by making the blow upon him in Lawrence,

men.

thought to screen himself, and fasten the odium of the dastardly act upon this oppressed people. The suggestion, too, made by some, that, as the killing of a free-state man in the fall proved a failure in causing a war of extermination, now the pro-slavery ranks must furnish a victim, that the crusade may meet with success, has some show of reason.

Reports are fast circulating through Missouri that Jones is dead, with handbills, of flaming character, calling upon them to the rescue, and their papers are full of the most vile fabrications, whole columns devoted to sentiments like the following: "Reeder and Robinson were the aiders and abettors in the deed, and, at the time, were in some gully behind the town, setting on their accomplices." And some of the papers are exceedingly bitter in their denunciations of the commissioners; all of which looks like exciting the people to another invasion.

The only thing which has been learned, in reference to the attack upon Jones, is the following. Early on the evening of the twenty-third, two men riding upon horseback, one very tall, and the other very short, stopped at a house about a mile from Lawrence, and not far from the Lecompton road. Their first question was, "Is Jones in Lawrence?"

The gentleman replied, "I believe he is."

The taller man then said, "I am a pro-slavery man, but Jones shall never leave town alive."

They left immediately, taking the direction towards Lawrence. A little time after, these men, marked by the differences in their stature, fastened their horses in front of a provision store in Lawrence, and walked hastily down the street towards the tents of the soldiers. Soon after, the firing was heard, and they, quickly mounting their horses, drove off furiously. Who they were has never been ascertained, and they were strangers to the few who noticed them.

CHAPTER XV.

REDOUBLED EFFORTS FOR A NEW INVASION.

MAY, the month of flowers, has come again. Sweet-scented, rose-colored verbenas are blooming side by side with a most delicate straw-colored flower. It grows in heads like the verbena, each separate flower being a little larger, and with serrated edge. The roses and pinks make the air heavy with their perfume. Since the taking of the prisoners to Lecompton, and the ill success of Salters in arresting any more, there have been a few days of quiet.

On the second of May, the ladies of the Literary Charitable Association gave a social entertainment at the hotel. There were the old settlers of Lawrence, who had pitched their tents on Mt. Oread eighteen months before, mingling with the newly-arrived citizens, the commissioners and their suite. The evening passed merrily, and, to add to the pleasure of many, the prisoners at Lecompton arrived. Through the intervention of the soldiers, their guard, word had been sent to Lawrence, that the lives of the prisoners were in danger, and some of our prominent citizens went up in the morning to effect their release by giving bail. The soldiers were convinced, from the continual threats against them, that there were intentions of foul play, and, against the wishes of the ruffians, they accompanied the prisoners half way to Lawrence. The returned men seemed to have the same feeling one would be likely to experience in escaping from a lion's den, and were glad to receive again the kindly sympathies of their friends. Refreshments of cakes, fruits, and ice-cream, were brought in at a late hour, and some lovers of the dance were there.

The outrages of the pro-slavery men are again becoming fre