He's got something to say to you." Though slightly uneasy at this change of programme, yet believing that in an editor's house I ought to be safe, and anyhow that I would be within hail of the street, I hurriedly, and but partially whispered my dim apprehensions to Mr.Cummings, and asked him if he would not keep near enough to hear my voice in case I should call.

He consented to do so while waiting for some other parties, and to come in if he heard my voice or thought I had need of protection.
On reaching the editorial part of the News office, which viewed from the street is dark, I did not see Mr.Winters, and again my misgivings arose.
Had I paused long enough to consider the case, I should have invited Sheriff Cummings in, but as Lynch went down stairs, he said: "This way, Wiegand--it's best to be private," or some such remark.
[I do not desire to strain the reader's fancy, hurtfully, and yet it would be a favor to me if he would try to fancy this lamb in battle, or the duelling ground or at the head of a vigilance committee--M.

T.:] I followed, and without Mr.Cummings, and without arms, which I never do or will carry, unless as a soldier in war, or unless I should yet come to feel I must fight a duel, or to join and aid in the ranks of a necessary Vigilance Committee.

But by following I made a fatal mistake.

Following was entering a trap, and whatever animal suffers itself to be caught should expect the common fate of a caged rat, as I fear events to come will prove.
Traps commonly are not set for benevolence.
[His body-guard is shut out:] THE TRAP INSIDE.
I followed Lynch down stairs.