a majority of voices.

"Shootin' is too clean a death for scoundrels sech as them," is the
commentary of a voice recognisable as that of Nat Cully.

"They ought to be scalped, skinned, an' quartered," adds a man disposed
to severer punishment.

"Yes!" affirms another of the like inclining. "A bit of torture
wouldn't be more than the rascals deserve."

"Come, comrades!" cries the Ranger Captain. "Remember, we are Texans,
and not savages like those we're about to punish. Sufficient to send
them out of the world without acting inhumanly. You all declare for
hanging?"

"All!"

"Enough! Where shall we string them up?"

"Yonner's a pick spot," responds Wilder, pointing out the two trees to
which Don Valerian and the doctor had been lately lashed. "They kin
each hev a branch separate, so's not to crowd one the t'other in makin'
tracks to etarnity."

"Jest the place!" endorses Cully. "Kedn't be a better gallis if the
sheriff o' Pike County, Massoury, had rigged it up hisself. We'll gie
'em a tree apiece, as they war about to do wi' thar innocent prisoners.
Takin' their places'll be turn an' turn about. That's fair, I reckin."

"Boys!" cries Walt, "look out a cupple o' layvettes, an' fetch 'em this
way."

Several start towards the horse-drove, and soon return with the
trail-ropes. Then all proceed towards the two trees. Each chances to
have a large limb extending horizontally outward from the trunk. Over
each a tazo is flung, one end left loose, the other remaining in the
hand of him who pitched it. Before flinging them the rope has been
passed through the iron ring with which all lariats are provided, thus
furnishing a ready-made running noose.

"Who's to haul up?" asks the Ranger Captain; adding, "Boys! 'Taint a
nice business, I know; but I suppose there's some of you willing to
undertake it."

Some of them!

Forty voices, nearly all present, are heard crying out with one accord--

"I'm willing!"

In fact, every man upon the ground seems eager to take part in a duty
which, under other circumstances, would be not only disagreeable, but
disgusting to them. Rough, rude men as most of the Rangers are, little
prone to delicate sentimentalism, they are, nevertheless, true to the
ordinary instincts of humanity. Accustomed to seeing blood spilled, and
not squeamish about spilling it if it be that of a red-skinned foe, it
is different when the complexion is white.

In the present case they have no