y've hanged him," he said.

Bowen was fumbling among some papers on his table. He folded two of
them and put them in his inside pocket. Then he spoke:

"There will be a newspaper man here in a few moments with a good deal
of copy to telegraph. Rush it off as fast as you can and I'll be back
to help before you are tired."

As Bowen walked towards the gaol he met the scattered group of those
who had been privileged to see the execution. They were discussing
capital punishment, and some were yawningly complaining about the
unearthly hour chosen for the function they had just beheld. Between
the outside gate and the gaol door Bowen met the sheriff, who was
looking ghastly and sallow in the fresh morning light.

"I have come to give myself up," said Bowen, before the official could
greet him.

"To give yourself up? What for?"

"For murder, I suppose."

"This is no time for joking, young man," said the sheriff, severely.

"Do I look like a humourist? Read that."

First incredulity, then horror, overspread the haggard face of the
sheriff as he read and re-read the dispatch. He staggered back against
the wall, putting up his arm to keep himself from falling.

"Bowen," he gasped: "Do you--do you mean to--to tell me--that this
message came for me last night?"

"I do."

"And you--you suppressed it?"

"I did--and sent you a false one."

"And I have hanged--a reprieved man?"

"You have hanged a murderer--yes."

"My God! My God!" cried the sheriff. He turned his face on his arm
against the wall and wept. His nerves were gone. He had been up all
night and had never hanged a man before.

Bowen stood there until the spasm was over. The sheriff turned
indignantly to him, trying to hide the feeling of shame he felt at
giving way, in anger at the witness of it.

"And you come to me, you villain, because I said I would help you if
you ever got into a tight place?"

"Damn your tight place," cried the young man, "I come to you to give
myself up. I stand by what I do. I don't squeal. There will be no
petitions got up for _me_. What are you going to do with me?"

"I don't know, Bowen, I don't know," faltered the official, on the
point of breaking down again. He did not wish to have to hang another
man, and a friend at that. "I'll have to see the governor. I'll leave
by the first train. I don't suppose you'll try to escape."

"I'll be here when you want me."

So Bowen went back to help the day operator, and the sheri