On hearing the cruel sentence, something like a gasp of pain came from many of the men who most firmly believed in the guilt of the prisoners.

No man can ever become so degraded and hardened as not to be moved by the approaching death of even a perfect stranger.

Badger alone was delighted at having something to do with the trial, for it was the sheriff's duty to attend to the execution.

With the death of these two men, the work which he had pledged Shirley to do would be completed.

More than this, with the death of these two men he felt that all danger to himself would vanish and all suspicion be allayed.

"It's mighty hard lines, Mr. Willett," said Hank Tims as he shook his fellow-prisoner's hand, "but one has to die sooner or later, and it should comfort you and me at this time to know that we can leave this world and stand in the presence of the Great Master and Chief of all, feelin' that we ain't never done anythin' that should bring a blush of shame to our cheeks nor a pang of regret to the friends as is left behind."

"True, Hank, true," said Mr. Willett as he stroked his brow. "Since I have come to feel that my boy is dead, life has lost all its charms for me and death its terrors. What is there to live for since he is gone? Nothing!" and with a sigh of resignation Mr. Willett let his hands fall heavily by his side.

Badger, judging by his conduct on this occasion, must have had no little experience in lynching affairs. He appeared before the prisoners with ropes, and as resistance would have been useless, Mr. Willett and Hank permitted the heartless wretch to tie their hands tightly behind their backs.

This over, he went to the members of the vigilance committee, who were engaged in earnest conversation outside the tent.

Having told them what he had done, Badger asked for instructions.

"We're in a kind of a fix about this onpleasant business," said one.

"Wot's the trouble?" asked Badger.

"Thar ain't no trees big enough for the purpose within twenty miles of this," said the man.

"Then why can't they be blindfolded and shot?" asked Badger.

"'Coz the judge said to hang 'em."

"Wa'al, I don't think thar'll be any trouble in gettin' him to change his mind," said Badger. "You see he must 'commydate the sentence to the place."

The vigilance committee meant to do right, and they were determined to erect a scaffold on the cliff above the creek, and carry out the sentence as it had been ordered.

By the time these preparations were completed the sun was well down the west.

Another hour and darkness would fall upon the world and on the lives of the condemned men.

With more thoughtfulness than might have been expected from men of their character, the crowd withdrew from the place in which the trial had been held, leaving Mr. Willett and Hank alone.

It is not for us to attempt to describe the secret thoughts and feelings of the condemned men.

They spoke but little.

Once Hank looked about him and said:

"I wonder what's become of Collins and Si Brill, they were kind to us, and I'd like to shake hands with them and thank them before the ind comes."

"They must know how we feel toward them, Hank, and as to their absence, it is my belief that they have gone away to avoid witnessing the death—the murder of two innocent men that they are powerless to prevent," said Mr. Willett.

"Yes, that must be it. Wa'al, I never saw a lynchin' nor took part in one, but I must confess I'd die a sight easier if I only knowed that them two critters, Badger and Shirley, was sure to meet up with the ind they deserve."

"You may be sure, Hank, that justice will overtake them in the end. Standing as you are, on the edge of the grave, would you exchange places with either of these men?"

"No, not if they was to throw in all the gold in the world to boot," said Hank earnestly.

"Then you see there is something which a good man dreads more than death, Hank."

"Yes, Mr. Willett, it's a black character and a black heart."

Hank had just uttered this when the flap of the tent was pushed aside and Badger entered, followed by a number of the committee.

"Wa'al, gents," said Badger, "we're all ready."

"And so are we," said Mr. Willett, as he and Hank rose to their feet and stood side by side.

"This ain't pleasant work," said one of the committee with a face and manner that told he was heartily ashamed of his part in the business, "but it's got to be did."

Neither Mr. Willett nor Hank made any reply.

Badger and the members of the committee were all armed to the teeth, and forming about the prisoners, they marched them down to a platform that projected over the cliff and from the further end of which two ropes hung down.

About this platform every man living in and about Hurley's Gulch, excepting Si Brill and Collins, had gathered, even Frank Shirley, weak and wicked, could not resist the temptation to see his cruel work completed.

The ropes were made ready and the condemned men were told they could pray for five minutes.

Instead of kneeling down both turned their faces to the setting sun, and in all that crowd no one was calmer than they.

Suddenly the painful stillness was broken by a cry that came from the westward and the crowd, as one man turned in that direction.

There, like a silhouette against the red face of the setting sun, they saw a lithe figure, in the picturesque garb of a Ute Indian bounding toward them.

"It is Ulna!" some one shouted, "Ulna coming from the direction of the great caÑon!"

"Hold! hold! hold! for your lives!"

This was shouted by a dozen stalwart horsemen, Collins and Si Brill in the lead, who came galloping to the place of execution from the east.

As these men flung themselves from their saddles, Ulna, with compressed lips and flashing eyes bounded through the crowd.

At a glance he took in the situation, and then in a voice that rang clear and high as a bugle blast along the cliffs he called out:

"Sam Willett lives and he has the paper!"

"And these men shall not die, if me and my friends can help it, and we're inclined to think we can!" thundered Collins, as he drew Mr. Willett and Hank back from the platform and severed the cords that bound their arms.

"And my boy still lives?" cried Mr. Willett, as he reached out his hands to Ulna.

"Yes, he lives; I left him this morning, and——"

Mr. Willett heard no more.

The resolute heart that could face death without a tremor, was all overcome by this joyous revelation, and he fell fainting to the ground.

"That's a Ute lie!" hissed Badger, to whose side Frank Shirley had come, pale and trembling.

While Hank and Si Brill were restoring Mr. Willett to consciousness, Collins called out:

"We'll see if it's a lie. Come, Ulna, my boy, tell us all about it, and if any man tries to stop you I'll give him a chance to bite the end off my revolver."

The coming of the young Ute, being unexpected, caused more of a sensation than the execution of the prisoners would have done.

The mob with bated breath gathered about Ulna, and though he was wearied with his run of fifty miles over a rough, trackless country, he told the main points of his thrilling story in a way that convinced everyone of the truth of his report.

For men to go down to death is an old story, but when those mourned for as dead appear in the flesh, even those not superstitious are inclined to wonder and to feel that a miracle has been performed.

"Do you believe that young Indian's story?" asked Shirley after he had led Badger away from the crowd.

"I am afraid it's true," said Badger.

"Then we're beaten!" groaned Shirley.

"Not yet."

"What can be done, Badger?"

"If young Sam is alive he will try to reach here."

"Yes; there can be no doubt of that."

"Then he should be met on the way."

"By whom?"

"By us."

"If so, we should start at once."

"Yes, Mr. Shirley, there is not a minute to spare. Let us get our horses and start as soon as it's dark," said Badger, with unusual determination.