The husband stood near, looking at her unconcernedly as she lay there, the blood flowing from her wounds.
“Lynch the brute!” came from a voice in the crowd.
“Burn him!” cried another.
“Shoot the demon!”
“Somebody get a rope!”
“I’ve got one here,” came from a voice in the crowd. “Let me get through!”
Nick Carter started back as if he had been struck by lightning.
The voice was that of Jack Weeden!
Nick looked at the man a minute, and then sprang at him like a tiger.
“Jack Weeden, you are my prisoner!” he cried.