"I have a piece of rope!" called a voice from the rear.
"There isn't any tree. But we can drop him over the wall of a chasm!"
Spectral figures with set faces appallingly grim in the thin moonlight pressed close to Prather.
"My God! No!" he pleaded, throatily. "We fought together, I tell you! We drew lots to see which one should take the risk of riding through danger to save the other!"
"Lying again!"
"Here's the rope! All we've got to do is to slip a noose over his head!"
"It's a clean piece of rope, isn't it?" said the Doge, in his mellow voice. "I don't think it's worth while soiling a clean piece of rope. Come! Taking his life is no way to save Jack's. Come, we are losing time!"
"Right, Doge!" said the man with the rope. "But it is some satisfaction to give him a scare."
"And take care of P.D.!" called another.
"Yes, if you founder Jack's pony you'll hear from us a-plenty!"