opposite side from where the men were planning their diabolical feat,
and under the edge of Jake Benton's tent, which stood just about two
feet from his own. With a quickness of mind that was almost miraculous,
he donned a dress and shawl and bonnet belonging to Sister Benton, and
stole out of the tent and across the ground toward the arbor in full
view of the enraged men as they came out of the tent that he had just
vacated.

The men were as much astonished as enraged at not finding their prey.
They ransacked Jake Benton's tent and demanded that he reveal the
whereabouts of the preacher. Jake flatly refused. Except for his
trembling, he stood like a stone wall and faced that score of masked
men, thirsty for righteous blood. Really they appeared as so many
thoroughbred devils right from the pit. They were masked in a way, not
only to conceal their identity, but in a way to make them appear as
hideous as possible. The leader of the mob shouted, "Jake Benton, you
sanctified hypocrite, if you don't tell us where that preacher is we'll
hang your carcass up for the crows to pick."

"Maybe you will, but I'll hang there, before I'll tell," shouted poor
Jake in a trembling voice.

"Who was that ole lady left your tent and went across the ground a while
ago with a bonnet on?" shouted one of the mob.

"I never saw an ole lady going across the ground," replied Jake. (In
this he was telling the truth, you know.)

"Hang him up to a tree boys, hang him up, if he won't tell," shouted one
of the gang. "Bring the rope," shouted another as he took hold of