Fear

Before long, nearly a dozen men on horseback had arrived at the far
side of the brook. Both the mayor and the sheriff were there, and the rest
were members of the Vigilance Committee led by Fern. Each and every one
wore a strangely stiff expression. What they had to do—and the thought of
who might stand in their way—made them look tense. Their opposition was
standing in front of the shack.

The blue glint of the pendant on his chest made the men uneasy.
Perhaps the horses sensed something, too, for there was no end to their
whinnying. Atop their mounts, the men shook ever so slightly.
“State your business,” D said softly. His was a tone well suited to the
tranquil afternoon light, but the horses halted at once. Did their riders
realize they were frozen with fear?
“As if you didn’t know already,” sneered the mayor, who now sported a
black hat, and he jabbed out one arm to point to one of the shack’s
windows.

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