And let him make haste--or a just
and offended God will punish him as if he were the lowest of earth!"
The challenge sounded clear and far. It must have reached the ears of
Andrew Jackson, the proud and feared hero of many battles. No man living
was more intolerant of indignity or quicker to resent the slightest
affront. An alarmed murmur circled through all the tumult; the doctor
and David heard it distinctly, and turned with those about them to look
at the man thus challenged. But Andrew Jackson himself stood quite still
and gave no sign that he had heard. He barely bowed his head when a
short, thick-set man pressed through the crowd and touched his arm. The
man was a henchman of his, widely and not favorably known in the
country, a gambler and adventurer whose name was Tommy Dye. He was
leading the general's horse. There were a few words between them, and
then the tall figure vaulted into the saddle and disappeared in the
surrounding blackness of the forest.
"Now! Here she is. Quick!" cried the doctor.
So crying, he plunged into the storm-lashed sea of humanity like a
strong swimmer.
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