“You’re not goin’ to pull the rope on ’im?”
“You mean I set him free,” came from Rance, his tone softer, gentler than anyone had heard it in some time.
“You set ’im free?” repeated the Girl, timidly, and not daring to meet his gaze.
“I let him go,” announced the Sheriff in spite of himself.
“You let ’im go?” questioned the Girl, still in a daze.
“That’s our verdict, an’ we’re prepared to back it up,” declared Sonora with a smile on his weathered face, though the tears streamed down his cheeks.
The Girl’s face illumined with a great joy. She did not stop now to dissipate the tears which she saw rolling down Sonora’s face, as was her wont when any of the boys were grieved or distressed, but fairly flew out of the cabin, calling half-frantically, half-ecstatically:
“Dick! Dick! You’re free! You’re free! You’re free...!”
The minutes passed and still the miners did not move. They stood with an air of solemnity gazing silently at one another. Only too well did they realise what was happening to them. They were inconsolable. Presently, Sonora, all in a heap on a bench, took out some tobacco and began to chew it as fast as his mouth would let him; Happy, going over to the teacher’s desk, picked up the bunch of berries which he had presented her at the opening of the school session and began to fondle them; while Trinidad, too overcome to speak, stood leaning against the door, gazing sadly in the direction that the Girl had taken. As for Rance, after calling to Nick to bring him a drink, he quietly brought out a pack of cards from his pocket and, seemingly, became absorbed in a game of solitaire.
A little while later, his eyes still red from weeping, Nick remarked: