The Rangeland Avenger

  7

  "He's right, Larsen, and you're wrong," Buck Mason said.

  "She had us buffaloed, and he pulled us clear. Steady, boys. They ain'tno harm done to Sally!"

  "Oh, Buck, is that the sort of a friend of mine you are?"

  "I'm sorry, Sally."

  Sinclair gave this argument only a small part of his attention. Hefound himself looking over a large room which was, he thought, one ofthe most comfortable he had ever seen--outside of pictures. At thefarther end a great fireplace filled the width of the room. The insideof the log walls had been carefully and smoothly finished by somemaster axman. There were plenty of chairs, homemade and verycomfortable with cushions. A little organ stood against the wall to oneside. No wonder the schoolteacher had chosen this for his boardingplace!

  Riley made his voice larger. "Gaspar!"

  Then a door opened slowly, while Sinclair dropped his hand on the buttof his gun and waited. The door moved again. A head appeared andobserved him.

  "Pronto!" declared Riley Sinclair, and a little man slipped into fullview.

  He was a full span shorter, Riley felt, than a man had any right to be.Moreover, he was too delicately made. He had a head of bright blondhair, thick and rather on end. The face was thin and handsome, and theeyes impressed Riley as being at once both bright and weary. He waswearing a dressing gown, the first Riley had ever seen.

  "Get your hands out of those pockets!" He emphasized the command with ajerk of his gun hand, and the arms of the schoolteacher flew up overhis head. Lean, fragile hands, Riley saw them to be. Altogether it wasthe most disgustingly inefficient piece of manhood that he had everseen.

  "Slide out here, Gaspar. They's some gents here that wants to look youover."

  The voice that answered him was pitched so low as to be almostunintelligible. "What do they want?"

  "Step lively, friend! They want to see a gent that lets a woman do hisfighting for him."

  He had dropped his gun contemptuously back into its holster. Now hewaved the schoolteacher to the door with his bare hands.

  Gaspar sidled past as if a loaded gun were about to explode in hisdirection. He reached the door, his arms still held stiffly above hishead, but, at the sight of the masked faces, one arm dropped to hisside, and the other fell across his face. He slumped against the sideof the door with a moan.

  It was Judge Lodge who broke the silence. "Guilty, boys. Ain't one lookat the skunk enough to prove it?"

  "Make it all fair and legal, gents," broke in Larsen.

  Buck Mason strode straight up to the prisoner.

  "Was you over to Quade's house yesterday evening?"

  The other shrank away from the extended, pointing arm.

  "Yes," he stammered. "I--I--what does all this mean?"

  Mason whirled on his companions, still pointing to the schoolmaster."Take a slant at him, boys. Can't you read it in his face?"

  There was a deep and humming murmur of approval. Then, without a word,Mason took one of Gaspar's arms and Montana took the other. Sally Bentran forward at them with a cry, but the long arm of Riley Sinclairbarred her way.

  "Man's work," he said coldly. "You go inside and cover your head."

  She turned to them with extended hands.

  "Buck, Montana, Larsen--boys, you-all ain't going to let it happen? He_couldn't_ have done it!"

  They lowered their heads and returned no answer. At that she whirledwith a sob and ran back into the house. The procession moved on, Buckand Montana in the lead, with the prisoner between them. The othersfollowed, Judge Lodge uncoiling a horribly significant rope. Last ofall came Bill Sandersen, never taking his eyes from the face of RileySinclair.

  The latter was thoughtful, very thoughtful. He seemed to feel the eyesof Sandersen upon him, for presently he turned to the other. "Whatgood's a coward to the world, Sandersen?"

  "None that I could see."

  "Well, look at that. Ever see anything more yaller?"

  Gaspar walked between his two guards. Rather he was dragged betweenthem, his feet trailing weakly and aimlessly behind him, his whole bodysinking with flabby terror. The stern lip of Riley Sinclair curled.

  "He's going to let it go through," said Sandersen to himself. "Afterall nobody can blame him. He couldn't put his own neck in the noose."

  Over the lowest limb of a great cottonwood Judge Lodge accurately flungthe rope, so that the noose dangled a significant distance from theground. There was a businesslike stir among the others. Denver, Larsen,the judge, and Sandersen held the free end of the rope. Buck Mason tiedthe hands of the prisoner behind him. Montana spoke calmly through hismask.

  "Jig, you sure done a rotten bad thing. You hadn't ought to of killedhim, Jig. These here killings has got to stop. We ain't hanging you forspite, but to make an example."

  Then with a dexterous hand he fitted the noose around the neck of theschoolteacher. As the rough rope grated against Gaspar's throat, heshrieked and jerked against the rope end that bound his hands. Then, asif he realized that struggling would not help him, and that only speechcould give him a chance for life, he checked the cry of horror andlooked around him. His glances fell on the grim masks, and it was onlynatural that he should address himself to the only uncovered face hesaw.

  "Sir," he said to Riley in a rapid, trembling voice, "you look to melike an honest man. Give me--give me time to speak."

  "Make it pronto," said Riley Sinclair coldly.

  The four waited, with their hands settled high up on the rope, readyfor the tug which would swing Gaspar halfway to his Maker.

  "We're kind of pushed for time, ourselves," said Riley. "So hurry iton, Gaspar."

  Bill Sandersen was a cold man, but such unbelievable heartlessnesschilled him. Into his mind rushed a temptation suddenly to denounce thereal slayer before them all. He checked that temptation. In the firstplace it would be impossible to convince five men who had already madeup their minds, who had already acquitted Sinclair of the guilt. In thesecond place, if he succeeded in convincing them, there would be aninstant gunplay, and the first man to come under Sinclair's fire, heknew well enough, would be himself. He drew a long breath and waited.

  "Good friends, gentlemen," Gaspar was saying, "I don't even know whatyou accuse me of. Kill a man? Why should I wish to kill a man? You knowI'm not a fighter. Gentlemen--"

  "Jig," cut in Buck Mason, "you was as good as seen to murder. You'regoing to hang. If you got anything to say make a confession."

  Gaspar attempted to throw himself on his knees, but his weight struckagainst the rope. He staggered back to his feet, struggling for breath.

  "For mercy's sake--" began Gaspar.

  "Cut it short, boys!" cried Buck Mason. "Up with him!"

  The four men at the rope reached a little higher and settled theirgrips. In another moment Gaspar would dangle in the air. Now RileySinclair made his decision. The agonized eyes of the condemned man,wide with animal terror, were fixed on his face. Sinclair raised hishand.

  "Wait!"

  The arms, growing tense for the jerk, relaxed.

  "How long is this going to be dragged out?" asked the judge in disgust."The worst lynching I ever see, that's what I call it! They ain't nojustice in it--it's just plain torture." "Partner," declared RileySinclair, "I'm sure glad to see that you got a good appetite for akilling. But it's just come home to me that in spite of everything,this here gent might be innocent. And if he is, heaven help our souls.We're done for!"

  "Bless you for that!" exclaimed Gaspar.

  "Shut up!" said Sinclair. "No matter what you done, you deserve hangin'for being yaller. But concerning this here matter, gents, it looks tome like it'd be a pretty good idea to have a fair and square trial forGaspar."

  "Trial?" asked Buck Mason. "Don't we all know what trials end up with?Law ain't no good, except to give lawyers a living."

  "Never was a truer thing said," declared Sinclair. "All I mean is, thatyou and me and the rest of us run a trial for ourselves. Let's get inthe evidence and hear
the witness and make out the case. If we decidethey ain't enough agin' Gaspar to hang him, then let him go. If wedecide to stretch him up, we'll feel a pile better about it and nearerto the truth."

  He went on steadily in spite of the groans of disapproval on everyside. "Why, this is all laid out nacheral for a courtroom. That therestump is for the judge, and the black rock yonder is where the prisonersits. That there nacheral bench of grass is where the jury sits. Gents,could anything be handier for a trial than this layout?"

  To the theory of the thing they had been entirely unresponsive, but tothe chance to play a game, and a new game, they responded instantly.

  "Besides," said Judge Lodge, "I'll act as the judge. I know somethingabout the law."

  "No, you won't," declared Riley. "I thought up this little party, andI'm going to run it." Then he stepped to the stump and sat down on it.