"Yes."
"Did ye lave young Radhurst to die in the Ibex cabin, an' stole his gold?"
"Yes."
"An' did ye steal Tim Fleeters' gold an' put it in the mission house?"
"Yes. Yes, I did it all. For God's sake, forgive me! I'm a bad man! O God, help me!"
A yell of rage was the only response to his wild pleadings, for a dozen hands had seized the rope, which had been thrown over one of the large projecting branches.
"All together, pull!" was the shout, and with a terrible, gurgling cry, Pritchen swung from the ground into the air.
And even as the men pulled, dead set upon their fearful deed, there was sweeping down upon their own heads the mighty flood of ice and water. The jam had given way and, sweeping down, was bearing all before it. The excitement of the men and the roaring of the wind up-stream prevented the noise from reaching their ears. Thus, unconscious of destruction to themselves, they were all intent upon their efforts to hurl a comrade into eternity.