He would hear the whole story, sighed over these "evil days," and listened with approval to the vindication I made of the purposes of the free State men.

How many men that, through a sense of bitter wrong, are in danger to become desperate, could be won to a better temper the world has never fully tried.
The news of what had been done at Atchison flew like wild-fire through the country.

This proved the last feather that broke the camel's back.
It became apparent that the country was full of men that were ready to fight.

As for my friend Caleb May, he went into Atchison and said: "_I am a free State man: now raft me_!" As no one seemed inclined to undertake that job, he faithfully promised them that if there was any more of that business done he would go over into Missouri and raise a company of men and clean out the town.
Meantime my friends at Port William provided means to send me down to Weston, there to take the steamboat Polar Star, bound for St.Louis.
"Boycotting" was a word unknown to the English language at that time; and yet I was "boycotted" on board the steamboat.

I heard nothing--not a word; and yet I could feel it.