Life was sweet to him,
and it seemed hard to lose it.

"Yes it is," answered Ben, faltering. "Can't something be done?"

Jake Bradley shook his head mournfully. "I am afraid not," he said. "I'd
like to shoot one of those lyin' scoundrels" (referring to Bill Mosely
and his companion) "before I am swung off. To think their word should
cost us our lives! It's a burnin' shame!"

Ki Sing looked the image of terror as he too was forced forward by a
couple of strong miners. His feet refused to do their office, and he was
literally dragged forward, his feet trailing along the ground. He was
indeed a ludicrous figure, if anything connected with such a tragedy can
be considered ludicrous. Probably it was not so much death that Ki Sing
feared, for with his race life is held cheap, but Chinamen shrink from
violence, particularly that of a brutal character. They are ready with
their knives, but other violence is not common among them.

Bill Mosely and Tom Hadley followed in the rear of the crowd. They would
have liked to improve the time by stealing away with the mustangs which
they coveted, but even in this hour of public excitement they knew it
would not be safe, and the act might arouse suspicion.

While Mosely felt gratified that the men he hated were likely to be put
out of the way, there was in his heart a sensation of fear, and he
involuntarily shuddered when he reflected that if justice were done he
would he in the place of these men who were about to suffer a shameful
death. Moreover, he knew that some day it were far from improbable that
he himself would be figuring in a similar scene as a chief actor, or
rather chief victim. So, though he exulted, he also trembled.

Meanwhile the place of execution had been reached. Then it was
discovered that one important accessory to the contemplated tragedy was
lacking--a rope. So one of the party was sent to the hotel for a rope,
being instructed by Jim Brown where to find it.

It seemed the last chance for an appeal, and, hopeless as it seemed,
Richard Dewey resolved to improve it. "Gentlemen," he said in a solemn
tone, "I call God to witness that you are about to put to death four
innocent men."

"Enough of that!" said Jim Brown, roughly, "We don't want to hear any
more of your talk."

But Dewey did not stop. "You have condemned us," he proceeded, "on the
testimony of two as arrant scoundrels as can be found in California;"
and he pointed scornfully at Bill Mosely and his