won't let me get near enough to cut your bonds."

"By Salsifer!" he said, later on, "I'll have to swear that fighting jack
in as a deputy sheriff, and set him to watchin' road agents confined in
the jail. Well, goodnight, all. Pete's locked up safe and sound."

An hour later a sober band of grim spectres returned to the jail,
overpowered the guard, and, for the second time that night, took out
grisly fruit to hang on the lynching tree. There were no pine knots and
no attempts at conversation till the leader asked: "Buckeye Pete, have
you anything to say before you join your Maker?"

"Ain't no use prayin' for yourself," spoke up another voice. "Better
pray for the soul of the man you sent to Purgatory, and for the
well-bein' of the other innocent man you tried to destroy."

"What's that?"

"It's that fightin' jack, prowlin' 'round."

"Let 'im prowl! Now, then, boys, are you ready? Then pull!" and, as the
old judge always told in conclusion, "they say, as the men gave a mighty
heave on the rope the donkey ran forward and kicked the barrel from
under the doomed man's feet!"