r.
"He's hidden away under this ere platform."

"Not right here?" I heard Madge cry, but I had too much to do to
take in what followed. I was lying close to the loose plank, and
even before the station-master had completed his sentence I was
squirming through the crack. As I freed my legs I heard two
shots, which I knew was the signal given by the cowboys, followed
by a shriek of fright from Madge, for which she was hardly to be
blamed. I was on my feet in an instant and ran down the tracks at
my best speed. It wasn't with much hope of escape, for once out
from under the planking I found, what I had not before realized,
that day was dawning, and already outlines at a distance could be
seen. However, I was bound to do my best, and I did it.

Before I had run a hundred feet I could hear pursuers, and a
moment later a revolver cracked, ploughing up the dust in front
of me. Another bullet followed, and, seeing that affairs were
getting desperate, I dodged round the end of some cars, only to
plump into a man running at full speed. The collision was so
unexpected that we both fell, and before I could get on my feet
one of my pursuers plumped down on top of me and I felt something
cold on the back of my neck.

"Lie still, yer sneakin' coyote of a road agent," said the man,
"or I'll blow yer so full of lead that yer couldn't float in Salt
Lake."

I preferred to take his advice, and lay quiet while the cowboys
gathered. From all directions I heard them coming, calling to
each other that "the skunk that shot the woman is corralled," and
other forms of the same information. In a moment I was jerked to
my feet, only to be swept off them with equal celerity, and was
half carried, half dragged, along the tracks. It wasn't as rough
handling as I have taken on the football-field, but I didn't
enjoy it.

In a space of time that seemed only seconds, I was close to a
telegraph-pole; but, brief as the moment had been, a fellow with
a lariat tied round his waist was half-way up the post. I knew
the mob had been told that I had killed a woman in the hold-up,
for the cowboy, bad as he is, has his own standards, beyond which
he won't go. But I might as well have tried to tell my innocence
to the moon as to get them to listen to denials, even if I could
have made my voice heard.

The lariat was dropped over the crosspiece, and as a man adjusted
the noose a sudden silence fell. I thought it was a little sense
of what they were doing,