The next day Berry hand-cuffed together the Rev. John Durham and Major Dameron, and led them escorted by a company of cavalry on a grand circuit of the county, that the people might be terrified by the sight of their chains. An ominous silence greeted them on every hand. Additional arrests were made by this troop and twenty-five more prisoners led into Hambright the next day.
The jail was crowded, and the court house was used as a jail. Over a hundred and fifty men were confined in the court room. Rev. John Durham was everywhere among the crowd, laughing, joking and cheering the men.
"Major Dameron, a jail never held so many honest men before," he said with a smile, as he looked over the crowd of his church members gathered from every quarter of the county.
"Well, Doctor, you've got a quorum here of your church and you can call them to order for business."
"That's a fact, isn't it?"
"There's old Deacon Kline over there who looks like he wished he hadn't come!" The Preacher walked over to the deacon.
"What's the matter, brother Kline, you look pensive?"
The deacon laughed. "Yes, I don't like my bed. I'm used to feathers."
"Well, they say they are going to give you feathers mixed with tar so you won't lose them so easily."
"I'll have company, I reckon," said the deacon with a wink.
"The funny thing, deacon, is that Major Dameron tells me there isn't a man in all the crowd of two hundred and fifty arrested who ever went on a raid. It's too bad you old fellows have to pay for the follies of youth."
"It is tough. But we can stand it, Preacher." They clasped hands.
