neck it was fixed: the man whose hands and feet were tethered
and whose movements were being watched by the woman.

They shifted uneasily and impatiently on their feet in there. Sim
Squires and Rick Joyce standing shoulder to shoulder held the free end
of the rope in their hands. The others breathed heavily and their faces
were implacable, restive of this time being vouchsafed to an idea, yet
steadfast in their resolve to keep the word given their victim.

"She's lettin' him talk too long," growled a voice, and in monosyllables
Rick Joyce growled back, "Shet up--he'll be dead a long time."

But outside Dorothy had turned again to the man.

"You an' yore foreparents hev plotted an' worked evil since ther fust
days ther white man come hyar, Bas," she declared. "Thar hain't no death
too shameful fer ye--an' ther hain't no hate deeper then thet I feels
fer ye. Ye've betrayed an' wronged me an' everybody I ever loved, an' I
swore I'd kill ye myself ef need be. I'm half sorrowful I didn't do
hit--but from them fust days this hyar tree hes spread peace an' safety
over this house an' them thet dwelt in hit. Hit's been holy like some
church thet God hed blessed, an' I aims ter keep hit holy. Ef they hangs
ye somewhars else, I reckon they'll do simple jestice--but hit hain't
goin' ter be on this tree. My child hain't ergoin' ter look up in them
branches an' see no shadow of evil thar. I hain't goin' ter lay buried
in hits shade some day with yore black sperit hoverin' nigh. Sin ner
shame hain't nuver teched hit yit. They hain't nuver ergoin' ter. Ther
bright sun an' ther clean wind air goin' ter come ter hit an' find hit
like hit's always been. God's breath is goin' ter stir in hit ther same
es hit's always done."

Just then a heavier cloud shut off the moonlight, and still holding the
rope steadily enough to prevent its sudden jerking in premature signal,
she came close to Bas Rowlett and ordered in clipped syllables of
contempt, "Turn round! I aims ter sot ye free."

She handed the loose rope to the man, and knowing full well the vital
need of keeping it undisturbed, he held it gingerly.

The other end of that line still rested in the hands of his
executioners, who waited with no suspicion of any confederacy between
their victim and the woman.

Dorothy loosened the noose and slipped it from his neck, and her fingers
busied themselves nervously with his wrist-knots.

She worked fast and anxiously, for she had promised t