lifeless air. "I wonder if we missed anything" continued the
judge, finishing what he had started to say.

The score or more of men were quite near, and the judge and
Mahaffy made out the tall figure of the sheriff in the lead. And
then the crowd, very excited, very dusty, very noisy and very
hot, flowed into the judge's front yard. For a brief moment that
gentleman fancied Pleasantville had awakened to a fitting sense
of its obligation to him and that it was about to make amends for
its churlish lack of hospitality. He rose from his chair, and
with a splendid florid gesture, swept off his hat.

"It's the pussy fellow!" cried a voice.

"Oh, shut up--don't you think I know him?" retorted the sheriff
tartly.

"Gentlemen--" began the judge blandly.

"Get the well-rope!"

The judge was rather at loss properly to interpret these varied
remarks. He was not long left in doubt. The sheriff stepped to
his side and dropped a heavy hand on his shoulder.

"Mr. Slocum Price, or whatever your name is, your little game is
up!"

"Get the well-rope! Oh, hell--won't some one get the well-rope?"
The voice rose into a wail of entreaty.