"That's enough to hang him!" I said sharply to Tahioni. "Link me up those drummer's cross-belts!"
"What—what do you mean, John Drogue!" stammered the wretch. "Would you murder an old neighbour?"
"That same old neighbour would have murdered me at Howell's house. And now is come disguised in civilian clothing to Schoharie with a spy's commission, to raise the district in arms against us."
"My God!" he shrieked, as Tahioni flung the leather halter about his neck, "is it a crime if honest men stand by their King?"
"Not when they stand out in plain day and wear a red coat or a green," said I, flinging the leather halter over the oak tree's limb.
Hanatoh swiftly pinioned his arms and tied his wrists; I tossed the halter's end to Kwiyeh. Tahioni also took hold of it.
"Hoist that spy!" I said coldly. And in a second more his feet were kicking some half dozen inches above the ground.
My Oneidas fastened the halter to a stout bush; I was shaking all over and felt sick and dizzy to hear him raling and choking in the leather noose which was too stiff for the ghastly business.
But at that instant Tahioni shouted a shrill warning; I looked over my shoulder and saw a great number of soldiers wearing red patches on their hats, running across the burning hayfield to surround us.
Yet it needed better men than McDonald's to take me and my Oneidas in Brakabeen Wood. We turned and plunged into the bush, leaving the wretched spy[40] hanging to the oak, his convulsed body now spinning dizzily round and round above the ground.