We are waiting for the verdict." The man with the cud looked a question at the Captain; turned and glanced down the row at the eleven, who nodded their heads in unanimous approval of his thoughts.

He once more shifted the wad of tobacco, as a preliminary to expectorating gravely into the sand floor, and pronounced his sentence with a promptness that savored of relish: "The verdict of the jury is that we hang Jack Allen for killin' Texas and Rawhide, and for bein' a mean, ornery cuss, anyway." The Captain turned coldly to the prisoner.

"You hear the verdict.

The Committee believes it to be just." He looked at the group near the door.

"Mr.Wilson," he called maliciously, "you will now be given an opportunity to collect from the prisoner what he owes you." "Jack Allen don't owe me a cent!" cried Bill Wilson hotly, shouldering his way to the open space before the Captain.