[CHAPTER XII.]
THE AUTO ON FIRE.
“Can’t we save him?” cried Jerry to Nestor. “He never took that horse. It’s all a mistake.”
“It’s no use to reason with those brutes,” said the miner. “They evidently believe they’re right. It’s too bad, but we’d only git into trouble if we interfered.”
“Bring him along, boys!” cried the leader. “There’s a tree that will do to swing him from, and I’ve got the rope!”
The boys were almost horror-stricken at the scene they were about to witness. It was bad enough to see any one hanged, but to witness the death of the little bug-hunting man they all believed innocent was too much.
The cowboys, with the poor professor in their midst, rode across the prairie to where a single tree grew. They had quieted down, now that their man-hunt was over. Jerry started the auto and steered it across the rolling land toward the scene of the prospective lynching.
“What are you going to do?” asked Nestor.
“I can’t desert him,” replied Jerry. “Maybe we can get the cowboys to let him go.”