Spartanburg

Another cheer came up outside the walls, a reaction to the return of Calo and his companion. They were carrying something and the men nearest the gate soon figured out that Calo had a pack that contained explosives. ``Dynamite!” The word ripped through the crowd like a flash of lightning. People began coming back toward the gate, eager to see what might happen after the application of dynamite. Calo placed some of the explosive along the base of the wall and they tied a fuse of some length to it. ``Light it,” came the cry from the crowd. It went off but it was disappointing, for it opened only a small hole in the wall. Aware of what was going on, Sheriff White, along with Officers Vernon and Alverson moved toward the gate, and when the charge went off, they began firing their weapons. They deliberately fired high enough to avoid hitting any of the mob, but some bark flew off of one of the small trees growing in the yard. It quickly registered with the crowd that the officers were now firing real bullets. This interrupted the surge of the men somewhat, and Howard Walters began again to urge them forward. He sought out Calo and offered some advice. ``You’ve got to set a heavier charge, man. Put it at the gate and see if you can blow it off its hinges.” Calo conferred with some of the railroad workers, knowing they had some experience with explosives. A new and stronger charge was placed under the gate at the hinged end. The crowd moved back. When the fuse was lit, the resulting blast was enormous, and the gate went down. ``It’s down,” was the cry and when the dust had cleared, a gang led by Calo and Goode began to run toward the opening. They were brought up short by the appearance of Sheriff White, who was pointing his revolver directly at the center of the chasm left by the fallen gate. ``Friends, and you are my friends,” shouted the sheriff. ``I don’t want to do it, but I’ll kill any man who comes through that open gate.” Officers Alverson and Vernon had taken up positions at each edge of the opening, also pointing their weapons. ``The hell you will,” replied Calo. ``You wouldn’t dare shoot one of us. The rest would tear you apart.” ``Maybe so, Jason,” said the sheriff, who knew Calo by name. ``But which of you is going to put me to the test? Will it be you?” The line of men approaching the gate had stopped. ``Rush him,” someone shouted from the back, and a shot was fired from somewhere in the rear. Suddenly there was a scuffle from off to the side as Captain Hall and Frank Johnson of the city Police, both dressed in civilian clothes, pushed in among the men clustered near the gate. Johnson attempted to grab a revolver in the hand of one of the mob, when another man hit him in the head with a stick. Hall tried to arrest him, but the man escaped back into the crowd. As Hall started after the attacker of Johnson, he was grabbed from behind by a young man who was trying to get Hall’s pistol. Turning quickly, Hall slammed the man against the wall, injuring the arms of both men, then pulled away and tried to resume his chase of the first man. It was too late for that, and Hall came back, helping Johnson to his feet. Officer Alverson had seen these altercations, and when he stepped out into the edge of the crowd, he saw a group of rioters pulling at the fallen gate, trying to get it out of the way so as to widen the opening. He went among them, and pushed one of the men down. As he did this, he was attacked from behind, the assailant pulling him back and down. ``Take him down,” called out a bystander, and a cheer arose from those watching. ``Get that stupid cop,” yelled another. ``Take him out!”