. "Take him out, Jim, for God's sake! Take him--Bill,
listen to me, you fool! What was it you were telling me, there in your
own doorway, to-day? About not thinking out loud? You can't save me by
talking like that! These men--those that don't hate me--are so scared
of their own necks that they wouldn't lift a finger to save a twin
brother. Take him out, boys! Bill doesn't mean any harm." He tried to
smile and failed utterly. "He likes me, and he's--he's--"

Shorty it was who jerked him away from Bill. The Captain, on his feet,
was dominating the uneasy crowd with his cold stare more than with the
gun he held in his hand.

"This Committee," he stated in his calm, judicial tone, which chilled
the growing fire of excitement and held the men silent that they might
listen, "this Committee regrets that in the course of its unpleasant
duties it must now and then rouse the antagonism of a bad man's
friends. But this Committee must perform the duties for which it was
elected. This Committee is sorry to see Mr. Wilson take the stand he
takes, but it realizes that friendship for the condemned man leads
him to make statements and threats for which he should not be held
responsible. Gentlemen, this court of inquiry is dismissed, and it
may not be amiss to point out the necessity for order being maintained
among you. The Committee would deeply regret any trouble arising at
this time."

"Oh, damn you and your Committee!" gritted Bill Wilson, out of the
bitterness that filled him. He gave Jack one glance; one, and with his
jaws set hard together, turned his back.

The crowd pushed and parted to make way for him. Jim, his face the
color of a pork rind, followed dog-like at the heels of his boss. And
when they had passed, the tent began to belch forth men who walked
with heads and shoulders a little bent, talking together under their
breaths of this man who dared defy the Committee to its face, and
whose daring was as impotent as the breeze that still pulled at the
flapping corner of the cloth sign over the door of his place.

Bill glanced dully up at the sign before he opened his door. "Better
get the hammer and nail that corner down, Jim," he said morosely,
and went in. He poured a whisky glass two-thirds full of liquor and
emptied it with one long swallow--and Bill was not a drinking man.

"God! This thing they call justice!" he groaned, as he set down the
glass; and went out to make an attempt at organizing a rescue party,
tho