Hangee at bridge. You goee!" He turned his
horse and sped across the field, deserting us basely.
We rode on, Ted and I. He was pale and still; my cheeks were burning. We
neared the bridge. The high mound of earth before us hid us from sight.
We stopped our horses and listened. The men had lighted torches, some
were preparing a rough gallows under the bridge; two were uncoiling
rope; some held the horses of the others beyond the bridge. The men were
masked now, and I could see by the lighted torches that this number was
increased. Jack was very white and sad, but he showed no fear.
"I am innocent, gentlemen," he said, slowly, "but I refuse to tell you
of whom I bought the hides."
I understood him. Could Harry White be a cattle thief? I felt as if I
were going mad.
"What shall we do?" whispered Ted, cocking his revolver?
Suddenly a bright red light illuminated the heavens, followed by clouds
of black smoke and a queer crackling noise. A yell from the men--Gil
Mead's voice above the rest. The hay-stack was on fire. It seemed to me
in the gale around it that I could see a foreign-looking human vanishing
across the plain.
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