Nat snatched up the glasses from their pocket in the tonneau and levelled them on the scene. He put them down again with an exclamation of excitement.
"They're going to lynch that fellow," he announced.
"What!" roared Cal, "lend me them peep glass things, young chap."
Joe stopped the car, while Cal took a long look. He confirmed Nat's opinion.
"They've got the rope over a limb of that tree already," he said.
"How are we to help him?" cried Nat, whose first and natural thought had been to go to the unfortunate's assistance.
"What do you want ter help him fer," grunted Cal, "like as not he's some sort of a horse thief or suthin'. You bet those fellers wouldn't be going ter string him up onless he had bin doin' suthin' he hadn't orter."
Nat was not so sure about this. From what he knew of the West its impulsive citizens occasionally executed a man first and inquired into the justice of it afterward.
"Steer for those trees, Joe," he ordered sharply.