“The rope’s ready, Park,” called one of the men.
One of the cowboys threw a noose around Jack’s neck, but he did not quiver. He was probably the coolest man in the crowd.
“Have you said yore prayer?” asked Reber.
Jack shut his lips tightly.
“All right,” said Reber weakly.
“I wish you’d wait until June Meline recovers,” said Jack. “She might have somethin’ to say.”
“Your time is up, Silver.”
“Yuh better not hang him,” said Buck Priest. “You’ll be sorry, Reber. Ain’t there nothin’ that can save him?”
“Not a thing, Priest.”
“All right, Reber. Go ahead and hang him. Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Hang him, you dirty old pup! Hang yore own son, and be ⸺ to yuh! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!”