"Well, what d'yu reckon yu can do?" Bartholomew sneered. "Hope is under my jurisdiction; I can order the case to be reheard," Embley replied.
Lufton's face crimsoned. "It would be most unconventional to re-try a guilty man," he protested.
"It would be a damn sight more unconventional to hang an innocent one," snapped the other.
The principal actor in the drama, the condemned man, watched the proceedings unperturbed. He had removed the noose from his neck and was leaning carelessly against the tree which had so nearly been put to a more sinister use. With Embley there, he was content to await the issue. His friends, at a whispered word from Ridge, had kept their saddles and strung out in a half-circle, ready for instant action. Bartholomew's men, too, sullen and savage-looking, were also prepared. Only a spark was needed to start the conflagration.
"An' who's goin' to re-try the case, yu, the prisoner's pal, or Lufton?" Bartholomew asked jeeringly.
"That's a question I can perhaps settle for you, gentlemen," said a quiet voice, and the stout little man who had found the townofHope deserted, walked forward. So absorbed were the spectators, that his advent had not been noticed.
Embley spun round and his face lit up when he saw the speaker. "Bleke ! " he exclaimed. "I never in my life was so glad to see you. How in the name f--?"
The little stranger shrugged his shoulders and smiled whimsically. "Just happened along," he said.
He nodded to Lufton, whose unwholesome face was now the colourofcheese, and looked curiously at Black Bart.
"Mr. Bartholomewofthe Bar B, Governor," Embley introduced.
"I've heardofhim," Bleke said in a non-committal tone, and did not offer his hand.
The rancher's face paled under its tan, and his rage at this unexpected development nearly stifled him. But he had to control; all hopeofimposing his will by force had now gone, for hard and reckless as his outfit was, the men would not risk outlawry. He listened contemptuously while Lufton, concerned now only with his own safety, told the storyofthe trail. When he had finished, the Governor nodded comprehendingly.
"I can review the case, take any fresh evidence you may have, Embley, and order a new hearing if I deern it necessary," he decided. "I will do that now. It is not ften one is able to administer the law in such charming surroundings." He walked over to a fallen tree-trunk and sat down. "This will serve for the judicial bench, and the lady shall share it," he smiled. "I am afraid the restofyou will have to stand."
Wondering and wholly impressed by this quiet little man with the shrewd, dominating grey eyes, the citizens crowded round. There were scowling, sulky faces among them, but no one ventured a protest. The nearest approach to it came from Bart.
"Keep an eye on the prisoner--he ain't cleared yet," he audibly told his followers.
"As he returned to gaol voluntarily, I doubt if he will run away, Mr. Bartholomew," the Governor commented. "But he shall stand inside the ring on my left, and if you will take the opposite position, you will be able to watch him yourself."
The rancher scowled but complied. Severn noticed that Snap had contrived to secure a place just behind where he himself was standing.
The Governor turned to Lufton. "I should like to see the evidence the prisoner produced," he began.
He compared the writing in the account-book carefully with the two slips and then looked at Bartholomew.
"You think these are forgeries?"
"Don't think a-tall--I know they are," retorted the rancher. "Very clever ones," Bleke said dryly, and Lufton squirmed uncomfortably. "Let us have your story, Embley."
The Judge gave a brief but complete accountofhis abduction and subsequent interview with the owner of the Bar B, and then, at the requestofthe Governor, Phil told her experience. When she had ended, Bleke turned to Bartholomew.
"What influence had you over these outlaws?"
"The chiefof'em owed his life to me."
"And when you failed and returned to Hope, why didn't you organise a rescue?" asked the Governor.
"I gave a promise--that was the condition--an' I keep my word, even to such as them," Bart retorted.
"How did you get these bills?" was the next question.
"Never had 'em. Severn lied when he said he found 'em in my desk," the big man replied.
He was recovering his assurance, and his lips curled contemptuously. At a gesture from Embley, the man Patch stepped forward, and the lawyer said sharply :
"This is the Governor of the Territory. Take your hat off, fellow."
The witness shuffled his feet and looked embarrassed. "If His Excellency don't mind, I'd ruther not for a while," he replied huskily.
Bleke waved a hand impatiently. "It doesn't matter," he said. "Tell your tale and see that it's the truth, or I shall know how to deal with you."
Standing there, his hat slouched over his face and his thumbs hooked in his belt, the bandit shot a covern glance at Bartholomew, who was watching him uneasily. The rancher was feeling uncomfortable; he had taken little notice of the fellow when he had ridden in, but he now knew him for oneofthe White Masks.
"I'll start with the bank robbery, though that ain't the beginning," the witness said, his voice low, hoarse, but pitched so that all could hear. "I was one o' the two who went in; the man who held the horses is--dead." A spasmofsatisfaction flitted across Bart's face at the news. "I didn't fire the shot that downed Rapson."
"Who did?" Bleke asked.
The witness pointed. `Bartholomew," he answered.
Gaspsofamazement, mingled with burstsofderisive laughter, those of the accused being the loudest, followed the statement. "Why, yu darnn fool, less'n half an hour after the robbery I was in town organisin' a posse to search out the thieves," the Bar B man sneered.
"Yeah, a mile outa town yu left us, changed yore clothes an' hoss for others yu had cached, rode around through the brush an' come into Hope from the other side," Patch said, adding quietly, "I follered yu."
"It's a cursed lie, an' I'll twist yore--"
"Let the man tell his story; I'll listen to you afterwards, Bartholomew," the Governor intervened. He handed the alleged forgeries to Patch, and asked, "What do you knowofthose?"
"Bartholomew wrote 'em," was the unhesitating reply. "Ignacio had orders to wipe Severn out, an' got wiped out hisself."
"Ignacio's alive now," the Bar B man protested.
"I saw him shot," the witness went on stolidly. "He ambushed Severn an' got what he deserved. The abduction o' Miss Masters an' the plantin' o' the stolen bills at the Lazy M were done by Bartholomew's orders, an' Severn's money was taken to him. Bartholomew was The Mask."
The rancher laughed scornfully.
"Yu've taught this skunk--a confessed outlaw and thief--a pretty tale to save yore friend's hide, ain't yu, Embley?" he jeered.
The lawyer directed his answer to the Governor. "I did not know what this man was going to say," he explained. "He enabled us to escape, and insisted upon accompanying us, giving no reason."
Bleke nodded, his grey eyes cold and his features expressionless. For the time he was a judge, without friends or foes, there to weigh impartially the evidence put before him.
"What do you know about Masters?" he asked.
"A goodish bit," Panch replied. "I know that when he lost his wife it broke him up; he let go all holts an' went on the batter, drinkin' an' gamblin' with a mighty hard crowd. There come a day when the Desert Edge stage is held up an' the driver killed. Some here'll remember it."