"Hangmen, beware! Do this deed and your time will shortly come! Beware! beware!"
The effect was instantaneous. Tari and the bosun's mate dropped the rope and sprang backwards in wild alarm; only the undaunted cowboy stood firm.
Even the condemned man ceased his whimpering and looked up fearfully.
"Blazes! What were that?" cried the scared bluejacket in a hoarse whisper.
"Don' know," replied Broncho laconically. "A sperit mebbe, but no sperit palaver is goin' to jolt up this lynchin'. Take a holt and h'ist away."
"Take care! take care!" hissed the sepulchral tones again.
"My God!" groaned the prisoner, and would have collapsed, but a tug at the rope about his neck by Broncho's steady hand caused him to remain erect.
As for the superstitious bosun's mate, he crouched down as if fearing a blow, whilst Tari, with a wild cry of "Spirit debble! spirit debble!" fled madly from the spot.
Meanwhile, the small author of this terror-inspiring voice was tearing back along the trail with all the speed he could muster.