Wahnotee. Paul! [Makes sign that Paul was killed by a blow on the head.]
M'Closky. He confesses it; the Indian got drunk, quarreled with him, and killed him.
Re-enter Lafouche, R., with smashed apparatus.
Lafouche. Here are evidences of the crime; this rum-bottle half emptied—this photographic apparatus smashed—and there are marks of blood and footsteps around the shed.
M'Closky. What more d'ye want—ain't that proof enough? Lynch him!
Omnes. Lynch him! Lynch him!
Scud. Stan' back, boys! He's an Injiun—fair play.
Jackson. Try him, then—try him on the spot of his crime.
Omnes. Try him! Try him!
Lafouche. Don't let him escape!