THE LYNCHERS.
When Barney returned to the hotel he found Professor Scotch in a very agitated and anxious mood.
"This is terrible—terrible!" fluttered the little man, wringing his hands. "How can we save him?"
"Phwat has happened now, profissor?" asked Barney, anxiously.
"I have received no reply to my telegrams."
"Kape aisy; the reploies may come lather on."
"And they may not till it is too late. I leaned out of the window a short time ago, and I heard a crowd talking in the street below. That horrible ruffian, Bill Buckhorn, was with them, and he was telling them how to make an attack on the jail. Some of the crowd laughed, and said Hank Kildare had been very slick about getting his prisoner under cover, but he would not be able to keep him long after night came."
"Av they make an attack on th' jail, it's oursilves as should be theer to foight fer Frankie," said the Irish lad, seriously.
"Fight!" roared Scotch, in his big, hoarse voice. "Why, I can't fight, and you know it! I can't fight so much as an old woman! I am too nervous—too excitable."
"Arrah! Oi think we have fergot how ye cowed Colonel La Salle Vallier, th' champion foire-ater av New Orleans."