Part 69 (2/2)
”Bah! You-uns know too much, fer ye've called my name! That settles ye!
Ye must hang anyway, now!”
Ta-ra-ta-ra-ta-ra-tar!
From much nearer, came the sound of the bugle, awakening hundreds of mellow echoes, which were flung from crag to crag till it seemed that the mountains were alive with buglers.
The clatter of a horse's iron-shod feet could be heard, telling that the rider was coming like the wind down the valley.
”Cut free ther feet o' ther pris'ners!” panted the leader of the Black Caps. ”Work quick! Muriel will be here in a few shakes, an' we-uns must be done. All ready thar! Up with 'em!”
The fatal moment had arrived!
CHAPTER XLII.
MURIEL.
Ta-ra-tar! Ta-ra-ta-ra-ta-ra-tar!
Through the misty moonlight a coal-black horse, bearing a rider who once more awakens the clamoring echoes with his bugle, comes tearing at a mad gallop.
”Up with 'em!” repeats Wade Miller, fiercely, as the black-hooded men seem to hesitate.
The ropes tighten.
”Stop!”
One of the men utters the command, and his companions hesitate.
”Muriel is death on revernues,” says the one who had spoken, ”an' thar ain't any reason why we-uns shouldn't wait fer him.”
”That's so.”
More than half the men agree with the one who has interrupted the execution, filling Wade Miller with unutterable rage.
”Fools!” snarled the chief ruffian of the party. ”I am leadin' you-uns now, an' ye've gotter do ez I say. I order ye ter string them critters up!”
Nearer and nearer came the clattering hoof-beats.
”Av we can have wan minute more!” breathed Barney Mulloy.
”Half a minute will do,” returned Frank.
”We refuse ter obey ye now,” boldly spoke the man who had commanded his companions to stop. ”Muriel has signaled ter us, an' he means fer us ter wait till he-uns arrives.”
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