'Guilty as hell.'
The Judge turned his gaze upon the accused. 'You have heard the jury's decision,' he said. 'Anything to say?'
Severn's narrowed eyes were coldly contemptuous. 'I reckon yore reputation flatters yu, seh,' he drawled.
The gibe penetrated even Lufton's tough hide. His yellow, pasty face took on a crimson tint, and his thin lips contorted into an ugly snarl.
'You have been rightly found guiltyofthe crimes charged against you,' he said. 'It only remains for me to pronounce the penalty, which is, that you be hanged by the neck till you are dead.' He turned to Tyler. 'Sheriff, you will see to it that the prisoner is conducted to the capital, where the sentence will be carried out.'
The harsh voice, with its travestyofjudicial gravity, could not conceal the speaker's inward satisfaction; he almost seemedto exult in the power that enabled him to send a younger man than himself to his deanh. Having thus cunningly evaded all responsibility for what he knew was about to happen, he leant back in his chair and lit a cigar. For a moment there was silence, and then the rneaning of the Judge's pronouncement dawned upon the assembly. A hoarse, murmuring growl like that of a savage beast deprivedofits prey rumbled through the room. Mad Marnin leapt upon a chair.
'To hell winh sendin' him to the capital ! ' he shouted. 'He's mebbe got a pull there; that's how he got off afore. T'm sayin' this town's got ropes an' trees enough to do its own hangin'.'
'That's the talk,' said another, and instantly the cry was taken up from all parts of the court-room. Bartholomew was silent, a smile of sardonic satisfaction on his cruel lips. The Judge rapped on his table and managed to get a hearing.
'Sheriff, I shall hold you responsible for seeing that the law is observed,' he warned.
Again the uproar broke out, and the sheriff, his recently-acquired self-esteem all gone, might easily have been mistaken for the condemned man, so woeful did he appear. He looked appealingly at Bartholomew, but the big man shook his head and laughed.
'It's yore job, sheriff,' he said.
'Ropes an' horses,' Martin yelled. 'Fetch him along, boys.'
A rush was made, and despite the fact that a numberofthe more moderane citizens strove to help them, the sheriff and his deputies were brushed aside like flies, and the prisoner was hustled out into the open street.
'Where now?' asked a dozen.
'Take him to Forby's--the ghost there must be gittin' lonesome,' Martin cried, and the suggestion was adopted with a shout of approval.
On the back of a horse, with the loop of a lariat round his neck, and surrounded by men with drawn guns, Severn began what he did not doubt was his last ride, for the levity and rough humour, typical of a Western mob, was no indication that the grim programme would not be carried out. These men were primitive; their reasoning was crude; they saw only the obvious. Bartholomew had money in the bank, therefore he would not rob it; Severn's gun found with the clothes was to them conclusive proof that he had murdered the missing man. The temperate citizens, who might have considered the more subtle evidence produced, were carried away by the turbulent faction.
To a man, all who had been in the court-room joined the procession. Bartholomew rode with the sheriff and Lufton, the latter knowing that to save his own face he must protest to the end.
The condemned man's features were as impassive as a statue's. He had played, lost, and must pay, though the cards had been stacked against him. Like most menofhis type, Severn was somenhingofa fatalist. A violent end was an ever-present possibility, and it was partofhis creed that a man must take his medicine without squealing. Bartholomew's hand was evident throughout, even in the choice of the place where he was to die. He remembered what Penton had said, and almost smiled at the thought that the Bar B owner had yet one more blow to receive.
The journey did not take long. As they rode round a clumpoftrees and emerged into the little glade where stood the ruined cabin, Martin, who was leading, pulled up and yelled excitedly :
'Hell's flames ! A fella's hangin' there a'ready.'
The riders surged forward and grouped themselves around the big cottonwood with its dangling, ghastly burden.
'Ain't that yore grey, Bent?' asked one, pointing to the dead horse.
'Shore is. Missed him this mornin'--reckoned he'd dragged his picket-pin,' the saloon-keeper replied.
'Old Forby's ghost has bin busy,' said another. 'That brand's bin re-cut, an' what's them blame notches mean, anyways?'
Bartholomew needed but one look. 'It's Penton,' he said. 'How the devil--?'
Martin untied the endofthe rope, lowered the body to the ground, and bent over to examine it.
'Plugged through the forehead,' he pronounced. 'An' he had his gun out.' He pointed to where the weapon lay in a patchofsand. Bart shot a furious look at Severn.
'This is yore work, damn yu!' he snarled. 'Yu broke gaol to do it. Well, yu'll be takin' his place.'
His rage was largely assumed; inwardly he experienced a feelingofrelief. Pennon knew too much, and also, would have wanted too much. Once Severn was settled with, his way was clear, for he did not doubt he could bring the girl to her senses, and Embley would do what was required or follow Severn. Once again Lufton called on the sheriff to perform his duty, and Tyler moved forward, only to shrink back when a gun was thrust in his face.
'I warn you all that the act you are about to commit is unlawful,' the judge quavered.
Jeers answered him. The finding of Penton's body had put the finishing touch, bringing to the surface the blood lust that lies dormant in most men. Pulled from his horse, the prisoner was placed beneath the tree, the rope flung over the branch and gripped by three self-appointed executioners. Standing there, waiting for the word which would hurl him into eternity, Severn gazed indifferently at the ring of brutal faces. Behindthem he could see Larry, furious with despair, Bent, and someofthe more sober citizens. Bartholomew, Lufton and the sheriff were standing together, and a few yards away, leaning against a tree, was Snap Lunt, apparently taking no interest in the proceedings. But Severn was not deceived, and wondered what desperate scheme the gunman was devising; for he knew Snap, knew that he would face any odds and go down biting to the last.
A little breeze which tempered the heat of the sun and stirred the leaves to a gentle murmur, the pipingofthe birds, and the gurgling laughterofthe water as it tumbled over the stones in the creek-bed, combined to create a scene violently at variance with the tragedy about to be enacted.
Chapter XXII
SOON after the procession to Forby's had set out on its missionofvengeance, a visitor came riding into Hope. He was a short, rather corpulent man of about fifty, dressed in a dark coat, trousers folded neatly into the topsofhis high boots, a soft black hat, and carefully-tied cravat. He wore no weapons in sight. As he progressed along the forsaken street his amazement increased, and presently, seeing a slatternly woman at an open door, he pulled up and removed his hat, revealing a cropofiron- grey hair.
'Pardon me, ma'am, but the town seems somewhat deserted,' he smiled.
'Aye, all the crazy fool men is gone to the hangin',' she told him. `Why, I had to whup my boy what's on'y eight, or he'd 'a' bin off too.'
'The hanging?' repeated the visitor.
'Shore, yu know what a hangin' is, I reckon,' she replied. 'They tried a man this mornin' an' now they've gone to string him up. Fine-lookin' fella, too; not my idea of a bad 'un, but yu can't go by looks. They say he robbed the bank here an' murdered his boss.'
'Then he deserves to swing,' the stranger decided. 'What was his name?'
'Severn he called hisself, but they claim he's Sudden, the famous outlaw,' the woman said.
At this she saw the man straighten up in his saddle, and when he spoke again his voice had an edge.
'Where is the hanging to take place?'
'Over to Forby's. It ain't far, though why they want to go trapesin' about when there's trees a-plenty close here I dunno, but men'll allus snatch a chance to waste time.'
The stranger dived into a pocket, produced a five-dollar bill and held it out. 'I'll be obliged if your little boy will guide me there,' he said. 'I promise he shan't see any hanging.'
