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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."

The woman grabbed the money, and in response to her shrill call, a barefooted, tear-stained urchin appeared.

"Abe, yo're to show the gent the way to Forby's, but if I find yu've saw the hangin', I'll take the hide off'n yu," she warned.

The horseman stooped, lifted the child to the saddle in frontofhim, thanked the woman, and rode away.

"The shortest road, Abe," he said. "Get there in time and there's a dollar for you. If we're too late ..."

He did not finish the sentence, but the pleasant, genial tone had gone from his voice, and there was no warmth in the keen grey eyes.

Mad Martin, who had constituted himself master of ceremonies, placed his hands on his hips and contemplated the condemned man with mocking malice.

"This is where I even up, Severn," he hissed. "An' as for that dawg, I'm agoin' to cut him in strips with my quirt when yo're --gone."

"Mind he don't send yu after Penton, yu polecat," the cowpuncher retorted.

White with fury, Martin was about to give the signal to those at the rope, when someone shouted, "Who's this a-comin'?"

On the eastern sideofthe glade, through a break in the trees, three riders came in sight, spurring weary horses to a last gallop. Bartholomew gave one glance, muttered a curse, and shouted:

"Finish him off."

"At the first pull on that rope yu die, Bartholomew, an' the fellas holdin' it follow yu."

It was Snap Lunt's voice, vibrant with menace. Standing in a half crouch, his back protected by the tree-trunk, he had both guns levelled, one of them directly covering the Bar B man.

"Who are yu, an' what are yu hornin' in for?" the rancher roared.

"My name's Snap Lunt, an' I'm just seein' fair, that's all," the lintle man said quietly. "Yu can hang that fella just as easy in ten minits' time, when we know what these folk want. Mebbe they're just honin' to see the hangin'."

The name sent a quiverofexcitement through the crowd, and the men holding the rope dropped it; they were taking no chances with a marksmanofSnap's reputation for accuracy;moreover, two or them had been present at Severn's arrest, when the gunman had an attackof"nerves". Bartholomew, too, was nonplussed, and before he could thinkofany expedient, the newcomers had arrived.

"Thank God, we're in time!" Judge Embley gasped, as he flung himself from his panting animal and helped Phil to dismount.

The thirdofthe party, a smallish, one-eyed man, whom someofthose present remembered seeing once or twice in town, got down more leisurely, and stood surveying the scene indifferently. No one took much notice of him, all interest being centred on the girl and Embley. The latter walked straight to his fellow-jurist.

"What's the meaningofthis, Lufton?" he inquired. "Surely I don't find you assisting at a lynching?"

"Certainly not; I came here to prevent one," Lufton replied indignantly. "I have protested in vain."

"And Mr. Bartholomew, has he protested?" Embley asked witheringly.

Lufton flushed. "He has given me every assistance," he said stiffly.

"Even to tellin' his men to finish the prisoner off when he saw yu were comin'," Bent put in.

"Is that so?" Embley flashed.

"I didn't know it was yu," Bartholomew lied, with a savage look at the saloon-keeper. "I thought it was a rescue party from his ranch, an' didn't want trouble. Anyway, I don't see that yore arrival makes any difference; we're strong enough to do as we like, I guess."

"Better guess again, Bartholomew," Embley smiled. "Unless I'm mistaken there are folk coming now who'll have a word to say."

In fact, the distant drumofpounding hoofs was audible, and away off on the plain a compact bodyofhorsemen was approaching at full speed. The Bar B man's face darkened as he saw that this new factor was composedofabout a dozen men from the XT and Lazy M. An awkward bunch, but his supporters outnumbered them, and if it came to a pitched battle... He turned arrogantly to Embley as the punchers dashed up, pulled their sweating, foam-flecked ponies to a halt, and whooped with delight when they saw Severn standing there, a grinofwelcome on his lean face.