in a state when he
no longer had interest for his companions. He rolled about blear-eyed
and hopelessly mumbling, with a half-emptied glass in his hand, which
he waved about uncertainly. Suddenly an impotent spasm of rage seemed
to take hold of him. With a hoarse curse he raised his glass and
hurled it crashing against the wall. Then, with a wild, prolonged
whoop he shouted the result of his drunken cogitations.

"We'll burn 'em! Drown 'em! Shoot 'em! Hang 'em! Come on, fellers,
foller me!"

He made a staggering effort to leave his support. He straightened up.
For a moment he poised, swaying. Then he pitched forward on his face
and lay stretched full length upon the floor.

But all had heard. And Beasley snatched at his opportunity. He sprang
upon the counter in the moment of astonished quiet, and, before
tongues broke loose again, he had the whole attention of the crowd.

"Here, boys," he cried. "Abe's right. Drunk as he is, he's right. Only
he sure wants to do too much--more than his legs'll let him." He
grinned. "We're goin' to do this thing right now. But we're goin' to
do it like good citizens of a dandy city. We ain't goin' to act like a
gang of lynchers. We're dealin' with a gal, with gold ha'r an' blue
eyes, an' we're goin' to deal accordin'. We ain't lookin' fer her
life. That's too easy, an', wal--she's a woman. No, we're goin' to rid
this place of her an' all her tribe. We're goin' to make it so she
can't stop to do no more harm, bringin' sheriffs around. We're goin'
to burn her home right out, an' we're goin' to set her in her wagon
an' team, an' let her drive to hell out of here. We're goin' to do it
right now, before the sheriff gets busy along here. After that we'll
be too late. Are you game? Who's comin'? We're goin' to burn that
Jonah farm till ther' ain't a stick left above ground to say it ever
stood there. That's what we're goin' to do, an' I'm the man who'll
start the bonfire. Say, we'll make it like a fourth o' July. We'll
have one royal time--an' we'll be quit of all Jonahs."

As he finished speaking he leapt to the ground amidst the crowd. Nor
did he need to wait to hear the response to his appeal. It came in one
of those unanimous, drunken roars, only to be heard in such a place,
at such a time, or on a battle-field, when insensate fury demands a
raucous outlet. Every man in the place, lost, for the moment, to all
the dictates of honest manhood, was ready to follow the leadership of
one wh