ent.

Scarcely had he entered it when a man's cry of terror rang out on the
quiet morning air, and roused the few who already had not risen.
Before the echo had died away, Nellie Shuter ran out of her tent
toward her father's; but before she could reach it Joe Swan emerged
from it, his massive hands grasping the rope, which was now wound
tightly around her father's throat. In vain Shuter struggled to utter
another cry, and to thrust away the avenging hand which grasped the
rope.

With a terrified scream Nellie sprang upon Joe and endeavored to stop
his march toward the derrick in the near distance, the ponderous arm
of which stretched enticingly out some nine feet above the ground.
Without swerving an inch to the right or the left, Joe hurried on
toward it, while with his disengaged hand, and without apparently
using any force, he kept Nellie aside.

Before he had got half-way to it, however, shouts fell upon his ears,
and glancing hastily backward, he saw over a hundred laborers running
toward him. For a brief space he stopped, measured with his eyes the
distance he was from the arm of the derrick and his pursuers, then
stooped, threw Shuter across his shoulder, and started off on a brisk
run. Nellie made another desperate effort to stop him, but this time
he pushed her to the earth and sped on.

Despite his great weight, and the burden which encumbered him, he was
the first to reach the derrick--although the crowd had been close
behind him when he began to run. He had deftly thrown the end of the
rope over the arm of the derrick, and was about to hoist Shuter into
mid-air, when the crowd was upon him. The rope was wrenched from his
hands, and the noose unloosened from the man's throat. "For heaven's
sake, what does all this mean?" asked a foreman, turning toward Joe.

Before he could reply Shuter gasped, "He's mad, he's mad; he ran into
my tent, and without a word wound that rope about my neck and then
tried to hang me." As he looked at his implacable enemy he edged
towards the foreman.

"He pretends," began Joe, in a compressed voice, "that he don't know
why I was going to hang him; he's a liar; yes, a million times worse
than a liar--he's a murderer! I thought I'd save you the trouble of
helping me to string him up, for when you hear what he's done you'll
riddle him full of holes and string him up as well!"

The crowd had now gathered about the speaker, and were gazing at him
with growing excitement. "There