rm. Presently men
grouped round Kells. She heard whispers. They began to walk slowly, and
she was pushed and led along. More men joined the group. Soon she and
Kells and Jim were hemmed in a circle. Then she saw the huge form
of Gulden, the towering Oliver, and Smith and Blicky, Beard, Jones,
Williams, Budd, and others. The circle they formed appeared to be only
one of many groups, all moving, whispering, facing from her. Suddenly a
sound like the roar of a wave agitated that mass of men. It was harsh,
piercing, unnatural, yet it had a note of wild exultation. Then came the
stamp and surge, and then the upflinging of arms, and then the abrupt
strange silence, broken only by a hiss or an escaping breath, like a
sob. Beyond all Joan's power to resist was a deep, primitive desire to
look.

There over the heads of the mob--from the bench of the slope--rose
grotesque structures of new-hewn lumber. On a platform stood black,
motionless men in awful contrast with a dangling object that doubled up
and curled upon itself in terrible convulsions. It lengthened while it
swayed; it slowed its action while it stretched. It took on the form of
a man. He swung by a rope round his neck. His head hung back. His hands
beat. A long tremor shook the body; then it was still, and swayed to and
fro, a dark, limp thing.

Joan's gaze was riveted in horror. A dim, red haze made her vision
imperfect. There was a sickening riot within her.

There were masked men all around the platform--a solid phalanx of them
on the slope above. They were heavily armed. Other masked men stood on
the platform. They seemed rigid figures--stiff, jerky when they moved.
How different from the two forms swaying below!

The structure was a rude scaffold and the vigilantes had already hanged
two bandits.

Two others with hands bound behind their backs stood farther along the
platform under guard. Before each dangled a noose.

Joan recognized Texas and Frenchy. And on the instant the great crowd
let out a hard breath that ended in silence.

The masked leader of the vigilantes was addressing Texas: "We'll spare
your life if you confess. Who's the head of this Border Legion?"

"Shore it's Red Pearce!... Haw! Haw! Haw!"

"We'll give you one more chance," came the curt reply.

Texas appeared to become serious and somber. "I swear to God it's
Pearce!" he declared.

"A lie won't save you. Come, the truth! We think we know, but we want
proof! Hurry!"

"You can go