hours before.
The moon was behind a cloud, and yet the visible stars furnished
sufficient light for him to see his way, dulled as his vision was by the
spirits he had consumed. Now his plan was complete. He would lie in wait
right where the unshaded roadway entered the wood. Henley's form would
be clearly limned against the unobstructed horizon. Bradley would fire
once, twice, as many times as would be necessary to do the work
absolutely. He believed that he would be calm enough, practicable as it
would be at that distance from any residence, to step forward and
examine the body to be sure that no mistake had been made. Bradley
chuckled as he sat down on the heather, and felt a satisfied, even
triumphant, glow steal over him. Taking out his flask, he drained its
contents, and then threw it into the wood. It whistled ominously as it
cut its way through the air and fell with a crash against a bowlder. He
drew out his watch and struck a match to see the dial. It was ten
o'clock. His victim could not be long now, for Henley never remained
late at the store.

"Ah, what was that? Surely it was a man's whistle, and Henley's whistle
was a well-known and merry characteristic of himself. To-night it
rippled forth more joyously than usual, and this in itself added to the
flames in the crouching man's breast. Henley could whistle that way
because he had triumphed so conspicuously in the recent encounter. But
stopping a man's whistle was a small matter when it was done with a
six-shooter by a good marksman, Bradley chuckled, and that wouldn't
bother him many seconds. Now he could distinctly hear the storekeeper's
step; he would soon be in view there where the fireflies were flashing,
and then--but what was that? Something seemed to be lowered from the
branches of a tree directly across the road as by a rope, and to hang
against the dark background, turning in a gruesome fashion, as if
wind-blown, first one way and then another. It was a human body. The
feet were tied by a bridle-rein, the hands bound behind by the
suspenders the corpse had worn. Bradley had seen the thing in fancy many
times before, but never in such grim actuality as now. He strained his
sight to make sure. There was no doubt. The thing was actually
there--there, there, great God!--there!

"Gentlemen, friends, neighbors"--he remembered the very words that had
escaped the lips now grinning at him--"you are hangin' the wrong man.
I'm innocent. In the name of God, s