“I tell you what it is, mates, I’m as sure that he did it as I am of my own existence. The man met his death at the hands of this murderer Bradling; ha! he knows his own name, you see! He is an escaped convict.”
“And what are you?” said Bradling, turning on him bitterly.
“That is no man’s business, so long as I hurt nobody,” cried Dick passionately. “I tell you,” he continued, addressing the crowd, which had quickly assembled, “I found this fellow skulking in the bush close to where the body was found, and I know he did it, because he all but murdered me not many months ago, and there,” he continued, with a look of surprise, pointing straight at our hero, “is a man who can swear to the truth of what I say!”
All eyes were at once turned on Frank, who stepped forward, and said—
“I can certainly testify to the fact that this man Bradling did attempt to shoot the man whom you call Dick, but I know nothing about the murder which seems to have been perpetrated here, and—”
“It’s a young feller as was a quiet harmless sort o’ critter,” said one of the bystanders, “who was found dead under a bush this morning with his skull smashed in; and it’s my opinion, gentlemen, that, since this stranger has sworn to the fact that Bradling tried to murder Dick, he should swing for it.”
“I protest, gentlemen,” said Frank energetically, “that I did not swear at all! I did not even say that Bradling tried to murder anybody: on the contrary, I think the way in which the man Dick handled his gun at the time when Bradling fired was very susp—”
A shout from the crowd drowned the remainder of this speech.
“String him up without more ado,” cried several voices.
Three men at once seized Bradling, and a rope was quickly flung over the bough of the oak.