's a lot of you," Joe went on, "who saw
him last night, in that gambling whiskey dive of his, try to draw his
knife on Harry Langdon, and heard him shout after me that he'd have a
reckoning some other time with that cub of mine; and, boys, he's kept
his word, for Harry lies in his tent there, dead, stabbed to the
heart, in the dead of night, through the folds of the tent, by that
cuss there that you were so afraid I'd string up."

Angry exclamations followed this fierce tirade, and a rush was made
for Shuter.

"It's a lie! I swear it's a lie! I never stabbed the lad!"

But his words were cut short by the rope, which was again being wound
around his throat. As they dragged him towards the derrick Nellie once
more threw herself across her father's body and begged piteously for
mercy. The sight of the girl's intense grief somewhat cooled the
unreasoning rage which had been kindled in their hearts by Joe's rude
eloquence, and they hesitated as though they hardly knew what to do.

"Let's see the body before we string him up, anyway," cried a voice.

The fairness of the proposition appealed to the men--more especially
as they had begun to realize that they had acted impulsively. There
was a general move toward the tent where the body lay.

In the rush none of them noticed the rapid approach of the Indian
girl, who so prodigally, and unasked, had given her heart to the
murdered boy. As they entered the tent she was close behind Joe, whose
huge body hid Shuter and his daughter, who were in front of him, from
her view.

As Joe stepped forward to remove the coat he had thrown across the
dead face, a low cry, full of the keenest apprehension and fear,
sounded behind him. Turning, his eyes fell upon the Indian girl, who
was crouching close at his feet, her palsied hands raised as though to
guard off some deadly apparition or danger, while her eyes, full of
the most intense fear and horror, were fixed on Nellie Shuter.

Joe's temper had been sorely tried, and laying his hand heavily on her
shoulder, he said fiercely, "What's the meaning of this?"

Instead of trying to escape from his grasp, she caught him
hysterically by the arm, and pointing at Nellie, said wildly, in her
queer broken English, "See, see, de Great Spirit send her back to me!
She's dead."

As Nellie stood and continued to gaze in amazement at her, the insane
terror of the Indian girl rose to an ungovernable height, and burying
her face in the grass, she s