By this time more than a dozen men were crowding about father, cursing
and abusing him. Soon they tore him from his horse. One of them rolled
a drygoods box from the store.

"Now," he said, "git up on that thar box, and tell us whar' ye stand."

Standing on the box, father looked at the ringleaders with no sign of
fear.

"I am not ashamed of my views," he said, quietly. "I am not an
Abolitionist, and never have been. I think it is better to let slavery
alone in the States where it is now. But I am not at all afraid to tell
you that I am opposed to its extension, and that I believe that it
should be kept out of Kansas."

His speech was followed by a wild yell of derision. Men began crowding
around him, cursing and shaking their fists. One of them, whom I
recognized as Charlie Dunn, an employee of my Uncle Elijah, worked his
way through the crowd, and jumped up on the box directly behind father.
I saw the gleam of a knife. The next instant, without a groan, father
fell forward stabbed in the back. Somehow I got off my pony and ran to
his assistance, catching him as he fell. His weight overbore me but I
eased him as he came to the ground.

Dunn was still standing, knife in hand, seeking a chance for another
thrust.

"Look out, ye'll stab the kid!" somebody yelled. Another man, with a
vestige of decency, restrained the murderer. Riveley came out of the