The face of the prisoner, as he met the angry glances of the miners, betrayed extreme fear. In spite of his terrible crime, Harry could not help pitying him when he saw the grey pallor that overspread his countenance.
The captain of the police was a brave and determined man, and, though his little force was outnumbered five to one, he showed no signs of yielding.
“What is it you want, men?” he demanded sternly.
“We want that man—the murderer,” was the unanimous cry.
“What would you do with him?”
“String him up to the nearest tree,” replied a brawny miner.
“There is no occasion for you to punish him—he is in the hands of the law,” replied the captain.
“He may escape. We want to make sure of him.”
“I will answer for it that he does not escape. You know me, and you can accept my assurance. Is that satisfactory?”
There was a sullen murmur among the miners. It was evident that they were not wholly satisfied.