Gore said, “Gentlemen, there is a solution.” All eyes looked his way. None of them had forgotten that he’d caved in to the Redeemers under threat, then publicly announced support for the white supremacist platform. The rumor was that he’d actually contributed money to Rountree’s campaign committee. “I have had certain conversations with leading individuals.”

“Rountree,” Keith said, and swore.

“Yes,” Gore said. “And others. They assure me that order can be restored.”

“I’ll bet,” Keith said. Who had broken the order in the first place? “Let me guess—they want a new board.”

“That’s it, yes.”

“You resign if you want to—not me,” Norwood said. Green agreed.

Gore said, “It won’t work unless it’s unanimous. That’s the only way they can guarantee control.”

“Never,” Keith said. “This is still a democracy, and we’re still the legally elected board.”

Gore said, “It’s beyond that now. No sense in arguing the finer points.”

“The finer points! My God, if fair and legal election is a finer point, then what in the name of Christ are the broad principles?”

Gore got up, angry. “Suit yourselves. I only told them I’d try. It’s going to come to that, sooner or later. You might as well resign yourselves to it. We’re all lame ducks now—why not save what we can? I’ll wait for your answer at city hall.” He strode out and slammed the front door behind him.

Mayor Wright held his head in his white-gloved hands.

“So that’s it?” Norwood said.

“Well, if you won’t wire Washington,” Keith said to the mayor, “I will.”

Wright lifted his head. “Gentlemen, I’m afraid Dan has a point. We don’t have a lot of options. We’ve got to end the bloodshed.”

They talked for another hour, but nothing came of it. After they adjourned, Keith, Norwood, and Green went to Keith’s home and called three federal judges before they found one who would intercede with Washington. An hour later, Keith received a telegram from the office of Attorney General John W. Griggs, who had conferred with President McKinley: At this time no evidence to warrant action by Washington.

Norwood said, “That’s it, then.”

Keith said, “Gentlemen, look out for yourselves from now on.”

Norwood sat silently, tears streaming down his face. How had it all come to this?

Green lifted him gently by the elbow. “Come on, brother—we’re on the wrong side of town.”

George Rountree was determined to end the violence. It was already midafternoon. In just a few hours, when the sun went down, absolute terror would descend on the city. It wouldn’t just be a few isolated confrontations, but wholesale shooting and burning.

When he arrived at his home to change into a fresh shirt and make some telephone calls, Chadbourn, the postmaster, was waiting in his parlor.