"Just the sort of answer one might expect from you! Not a word of welcome or sympathy! I always said you were the most selfish mortal alive!" cried Mrs. Forest bitterly.
"Señoras, I pray for you, come into ze house at once!" spoke up the Señora again, turning entreatingly to the ladies. "I you promess, zat wen you an orange an' cup of coffee 'ave 'ad, you will yourselves better feel."
"The Señora's right," broke in the Captain. "Come into the house and when you've—" but his sentence was cut short by the sharp report of a pistol, followed in quick succession by two other shots, and a moment later a man, breathless and without coat or hat, and his shirt and trousers in tatters, rushed among them.
"Hide me quick, somebody!" he cried. "For God's sake—the posse—" but before he could finish, a troop of men, armed with six-shooters and Winchester rifles, burst from the cover of bushes that lined the highroad.
"There he is yonder, boys, behind that man!" cried their leader excitedly, a small, thick-set, broad-shouldered man with sandy hair and beard and florid complexion. The others, following the direction indicated by him, seized the fugitive who had taken refuge behind Captain Forest and dragged him hurriedly beneath one of the cottonwood trees, over a lower branch of which they flung a rope. Their work was so expeditious that, before the spectators could realize what was happening, they had bound his hands behind his back and fastened one end of the rope about his neck.
"Stand clear, everybody!" commanded the leader, his gaze sweeping the throng. Then turning to his men, he said: "When I give the word, boys, let him swing!"
"Don't, boys—don't!" cried the prisoner in a despairing, supplicating voice, dropping on his knees. "For God's sake—give me a chance—" but a jerk of the rope cut short his words which ended in an inarticulate gurgle in his throat.
"They are going to hang him—it's murder!" gasped Mrs. Forest, clinging to her trembling, terrified maid who was already on the verge of fainting.
"Gentlemen," said the Colonel, stepping forward, "I object to such an unheard-of proceeding! You have no right to hang a man without a trial."
"Say, old punk," cried the leader, turning savagely on the Colonel, "who's a runnin' this show?" The well-delivered blow of a sledge-hammer could not have been more crushing in its effect on the Colonel than were the words of the leader; he was completely silenced. Greatly to his credit, however, he stood his ground. He was no coward, for he had faced death and been wounded more than once in his younger days on the field of battle, and had he possessed a weapon at the moment, he would have snuffed out the leader's life as deliberately as he would have blown out the light of a candle, regardless of consequences. But recognizing the carrion with which he had to deal, and the futility of further interference, he quietly shrugged his shoulders, smiled and pulled the end of his mustache. The hanging might proceed so far as he was concerned.