mask which the doomed man wore as her right
hand grasped his left, just loosed by his captors. Then she paused; her
shy, fawn-like eyes grew bold, and fixed themselves upon him. She took
the chewing-gum from her mouth, wiped her red lips with the back of
her hand, by a sudden lithe spring placed her foot on his stirrup, and,
bounding to the saddle, threw her arms about his neck and pressed a kiss
upon his lips.

They remained thus for a hushed moment--the man on the threshold of
death, the young woman in the fullness of youth and beauty--linked
together. Then the crowd laughed; in the audacious effrontery of the
girl's act the ultimate fate of the two men was forgotten. She slipped
languidly to the ground; SHE was the focus of all eyes,--she only! The
ringleader saw it and his opportunity. He shouted: "Time's up--Forward!"
urged his horse beside his captives, and the next moment the whole
cavalcade was sweeping over the clearing into the darkening woods.

Their destination was Sawyer's Crossing, the headquarters of the
committee, where the council was still sitting, and where both culprits
were to expiate the offense of which that council had already found
them guilty. They rode in great and breathless haste,--a haste in which,
strangely enough, even the captives seemed to join. That haste possibly
prevented them from noticing the singular change which had taken place
in the second captive since the episode of the kiss. His high color
remained, as if it had burned through his mask of indifference; his eyes
were quick, alert, and keen, his mouth half open as if the girl's kiss
still lingered there. And that haste had made them careless, for the
horse of the man who led him slipped in a gopher-hole, rolled over,
unseated his rider, and even dragged the bound and helpless second
captive from Judge Boompointer's favorite mare. In an instant they were
all on their feet again, but in that supreme moment the second captive
felt the cords which bound his arms had slipped to his wrists. By
keeping his elbows to his sides, and obliging the others to help him
mount, it escaped their notice. By riding close to his captors, and
keeping in the crush of the throng, he further concealed the accident,
slowly working his hands downwards out of his bonds.

Their way lay through a sylvan wilderness, mid-leg deep in ferns, whose
tall fronds brushed their horses' sides in their furious gallop and
concealed the flapping of the captive's lo