head through the closed flaps; and the Captain rose instantly and made
a commanding gesture to his prisoner.

Jack swept the loose dirt back into the furrow with one swing of his
foot and stood up. He went out quietly, two steps in advance of the
Captain and the Captain's drawn pistol, and advanced unflinchingly
towards the horse that stood saddled in the midst of the group of
executioners, with the same curious crowd looking on greedily at the
spectacle.

"Ever been on a horse?" asked the Captain, his deep voice little more
than a growl.

"Once or twice," Jack answered indifferently.

"Climb on, then!"

Jack was young and he was very human. It might be his last hour on
earth, but there rose up in him a prideful desire to show them whether
he had ever been on a horse; he caught the saddle-horn with one hand
and vaulted vaingloriously into the saddle without touching a toe to
the stirrup. The buckskin ducked and danced sidewise at the end of the
rope in Shorty's hand, and more than one gun flashed into sight at the
unexpectedness of the move.

The Captain scowled at the exclamations of admiration from the crowd.
"You needn't try any funny work, young man, or I'll tie you hand as
well as foot!" he threatened sternly. "Give me that rope, Davis."

Then Jack paid in pain for his vanity, and paid in full. The Captain