“But it may fall,” said the Skinner, for the first time beginning to tremble. “I will tell you anything—even how to surprise our party at the Pond, without all this trouble, and it is commanded by my own brother.”
“I want no information,” returned his executioner (for such he now seemed really to be), throwing the rope repeatedly over the beam, first drawing it tight so as to annoy the Skinner a little, and then casting the end from him, beyond the reach of anyone.
“This is joking too far,” cried the Skinner, in a tone of remonstrance, and raising himself on his toes, with the vain hope of releasing himself from the cord, by slipping his head through the noose. But the caution and experience of the refugee officer had guarded against this escape.
“What have you done with the horse you stole from me, rascal?” muttered the officer of the Cowboys, throwing out columns of smoke while he waited for a reply.
“He broke down in the chase,” replied the Skinner quickly; “but I can tell you where one is to be found that is worth him and his sire.”
“Liar! I will help myself when I am in need; you had better call upon God for aid, as your hour is short.” On concluding this consoling advice, he struck the barrel a violent blow with his heavy foot, and the slender staves flew in every direction, leaving the Skinner whirling in the air. As his hands were unconfined, he threw them upwards, and held himself suspended by main strength.
“Come, captain,” he said, coaxingly, a little huskiness creeping into his voice, and his knees beginning to shake with tremor, “end the joke; ’tis enough to make a laugh, and my arms begin to tire—I can’t hold on much longer.”
“Harkee, Mr. Peddler,” said the refugee, in a voice that would not be denied, “I want not your company. Through that door lies your road—march! offer to touch that dog, and you’ll swing in his place, though twenty Sir Henrys wanted your services.” So saying, he retired to the road with the sergeant, as the peddler precipitately retreated down the bank.
Birch went no farther than a bush that opportunely offered itself as a screen to his person, while he yielded to an unconquerable desire to witness the termination of this extraordinary scene.
Left alone, the Skinner began to throw fearful glances around, to espy the hiding places of his tormentors. For the first time the horrid idea seemed to shoot through his brain that something serious was intended by the Cowboy. He called entreatingly to be released, and made rapid and incoherent promises of important information, mingled with affected pleasantry at their conceit, which he would hardly admit to himself could mean anything so dreadful as it seemed. But as he heard the tread of the horses moving on their course, and in vain looked around for human aid, violent trembling seized his limbs, and his eyes began to start from his head with terror. He made a desperate effort to reach the beam; but, too much exhausted with his previous exertions, he caught the rope in his teeth, in a vain effort to sever the cord, and fell to the whole length of his arms. Here his cries were turned into shrieks.