Bangs’s face was ashen, and he was trembling like an aspen leaf.
“Friends, neighbors,” he began, hoarsely, “will you murder me? Will you send me into eternity without a moment’s time to prepare?”
“How many minutes did you give Barney Nolan?” asked a stern voice. “‘With what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again.’”
“Yes, yes! Off with him! Off with him! That’s right,” as Hicks threw the rope over the head of the trembling culprit, and drew it close about his neck.
A shriek of mortal anguish went up from the pale lips quivering with fright: “The law! Let the law deal with me, and don’t stain your hands with my blood!”
“No, no! the law’s too easy for a wretch like you!” they yelled in his ears, as they dragged him away out of the building, over the sidewalk to the middle of the street, and on, on, his head striking against the cobble-stones at every step.
He was dead before they reached the tree where they meant to hang him, but they raised the lifeless body to one of its branches, and left it dangling there, all the same.
CHAPTER XVI.
The pistol-shot echoed and re-echoed from the hills, the roar of the mob, the shouts and yells of rage were heard at Lakeside, creating wonder and consternation there.