At this point Mr. Hooker was troubled with leaving.

Having got this business off my conscience I slept late next day. When I
stepped into the street I saw at once that something was "up." There
were knots of people gathered at the corners, some reading eagerly that
morning's issue of the _Bugle_, some gesticulating, and others stalking
moodily about muttering curses, not loud but deep. Suddenly I heard an
excited clamor--a confused roar of many lungs, and the trampling of
innumerable feet. In this babel of noises I could distinguish the words
"Kill him!" "Wa'm his hide!" and so forth; and, looking up the street, I
saw what seemed to be the whole male population racing down it. I am
very excitable, and, though I did not know whose hide was to be warmed,
nor why anyone was to be killed, I shot off in front of the howling
masses, shouting "Kill him!" and "Warm his hide!" as loudly as the
loudest, all the time looking out for the victim. Down the street we
flew like a storm; then I turned a corner, thinking the scoundrel must
have gone up _that_ street; then bolted through a public square; over a
bridge; under an arch; finally back into the main street; yelling like a
panther, and resolved to slaughter the first human being I should
overtake. The crowd followed my lead, turning as I turned, shrieking as
I shrieked, and--all at once it came to me that _I_ was the man whose
hide was to be warmed!

It is needless to dwell upon the sensation this discovery gave me;
happily I was within a few yards of the committee-rooms, and into these
I dashed, closing and bolting the doors behind me, and mounting the
stairs like a flash. The committee was in solemn session, sitting in a
nice, even row on the front benches, each man with his elbows on his
knees, and his chin resting in the palms of his hands--thinking. At each
man's feet lay a neglected copy of the _Bugle_. Every member fixed his