'How long do you propose keeping him there?' The captain did not reply, but Murfrey made answer.
'Perhaps an hour, perhaps two. But what is it of your business? Do you wish to get strung up?'
'It is so far my business, that if I can release him, not ten seconds longer will he hang there;' and saying these words he strode towards the tree. Facing in such a manner that the entire gang was in front of him he drew his pistol, and by the aid of his left arm began to make his way up the tree. He paused on the first limb, for he perceived that Murfrey was about to spring upon him.
'The first man or woman that makes a move to hinder me, I will shoot.' Murfrey stood irresolute, then moved a step nearer to the tree, whereupon Roland promptly covered him with his weapon.
This was more than the bully had looked for; and upon noticing that no one seemed disposed to assist, he turned away and joined the group. With one blow of his knife, then, Roland severed the cord, and The Lifter fell like a log upon the turf.
Descending then he found that the miserable wretch had fainted from his suffering; indeed, for a time he could discover no trace of a pulse.
'Nancy, fetch me a glass of brandy, immediately.'
Nancy looked at the chief as if to ask his permission, but he merely said:
'I have no concern in the affairs of this whelp.'
'Then I will go,' the girl said, and darting below, she soon returned with a flask. Forcing open The Lifter's mouth, Roland poured in about half a glass of brandy, which in a few seconds brought back the sufferer's pulse. When he had recovered his consciousness he said in a low voice: