cott!" shouted Duncan Warner.

He had bounded in his chair as the frightful shock crashed through his
system. But he was not dead. On the contrary, his eyes gleamed far
more brightly than they had done before. There was only one change,
but it was a singular one. The black had passed from his hair and
beard as the shadow passes from a landscape. They were both as white
as snow. And yet there was no other sign of decay. His skin was
smooth and plump and lustrous as a child's.

The Marshal looked at the committee with a reproachful eye.

"There seems to be some hitch here, gentlemen," said he.

We three practical men looked at each other.

Peter Stulpnagel smiled pensively.

"I think that another one should do it," said I.

Again the connection was made, and again Duncan Warner sprang in his
chair and shouted, but, indeed, were it not that he still remained in
the chair none of us would have recognised him. His hair and his beard
had shredded off in an instant, and the room looked like a barber's
shop on a Saturday night. There he sat, his eyes still shining, his
skin radiant with the glow of perfect health, but with a scalp as bald
as a Dutch cheese, and a chin without so much as a trace of down. He
began to revolve one of his arms, slowly and doubtfully at first, but
with more confidence as he went on.

"That jint," said he, "has puzzled half the doctors on the Pacific
Slope. It's as good as new, and as limber as a hickory twig."

"You are feeling pretty well?" asked the old German.

"Never better in my life," said Duncan Warner cheerily.

The situation was a painful one. The Marshal glared at the committee.
Peter Stulpnagel grinned and rubbed his hands. The engineers scratched
their heads. The bald-headed prisoner revolved his arm and looked
pleased.

"I think that one more shock----" began the chairman.

"No, sir," said the Marshal "we've had foolery enough for one morning.
We are here for an execution, and a execution we'll have."

"What do you propose?"

"There's a hook handy upon the ceiling. Fetch in a rope, and we'll
soon set this matter straight."

There was another awkward delay while the warders departed for the
cord. Peter Stulpnagel bent over Duncan Warner, and whispered
something in his ear. The desperado started in surprise.

"You don't say?" he asked.

The German nodded.

"What! Noways?"

Peter shook his head, and the two began to laugh as though they shared
som