“It’s horrible, Dal,” whispered Abel. “I hate the brute, but I don’t want to see him hanged.”
“Then you’d better be off,” said a man who heard the remark, “for the beast will swing before many minutes are passed.”
“I don’t see why you two young fellows should care,” said another. “He was eager enough to get you hanged.”
“Have you made his wrists fast behind him?” said the judge out of the darkness.
“Yes; all right.”
“Let him get up, then. Here, landlord—squire—a lantern here.”
“Haven’t you had light enough, judge? What about my saloon?”
“All right, old fellow,” said a voice. “You hold plenty of our gold; we’ll club together to pay for a better one.”
“Thank ye, gentlemen. Hi! bring a lantern.”
At the same moment the prisoner rose to his feet, and the sack over his head was drawn off.