Holbrook, a custom-house officer. There he remained all the next day,
keeping watch of Mr. Sanborn's movements through the cracks in the
boards. A little after nine in the evening he was joined by four
assistants in a carriage. They then proceeded to Mr. Sanborn's house,
seized him at the door, and in spite of his great size and strength,
would certainly have carried him off had it not been for the courage and
energy of his sister Sarah. She screamed "murder," and seizing the
carriage-whip, made such good use of it that the horses were with
difficulty prevented from running away.

Her cries waked up the blacksmith in the next house, and he quickly came
to the rescue. The "Bigelow girls" ran through the village like wild
cats ringing door-bells and calling on the people. In less than twenty
minutes nearly every man in town, Emerson included, was on the spot. The
crowd showed a determined spirit, and the marshals were probably glad
enough when Judge Hoar appeared with a writ of "habeas corpus," and took
the prisoner out of their hands in a legal manner. The case was tried in
Boston next day, and Mr. Sanborn was adjudged to have the right of it. A
lively celebration followed in the Concord town hall that evening, and
Miss Sarah Sanborn was presented with an elegant revolver; but the old
borough had not been so stirred up since '75.

The place was not without some small entertainments. Every autumn there
was an annual cattle-show at which the same bulls, horses and poultry
were brought for exhibition, and one might suppose also the same fruit
and vegetables; for they differed little in appearance from one year to
another. A live bittern in a cage of laths was an unusual curiosity.
Ventriloquists and every kind of a juggler, as well as native Indians
and the wild men of Borneo, came to perform in the town hall.