One of the strange party stepped forward and removed the gag from the boy's mouth, saying: "If you have any last remarks to make, make 'em now, and be quick about it. We don't propose to fool away any time on this job." "What does all this mean?" gasped Al. "What are you going to do?" "We're going to string you up in just about two minutes at the outside," was the reply; "so if you have anything to say you'd better hurry." CHAPTER IX. A CLOSE CALL. "You are going to murder me?" the boy cried. "Well, we don't put it just that way," was the cool reply of the man who had spoken before. "How do you put it, then?" "We are going to execute you. In cases like yours the law is a little too slow for us, so we have constituted ourselves judge, jury, executioners and all the rest of it. Young fellow, you've stolen your last horse." The truth flashed upon Al. For several weeks residents of the neighborhood of Boomville--principally farmers--had been the victims of a clever horse thief, who had, since he began operations, stolen a number of valuable animals. The authorities seemed to be powerless in the matter, although they professed to be using every possible means to bring the thief to justice. Only one clew had been gained; one of the stolen horses had been sold to a farmer in a village about fifty miles distant by a youth of about sixteen, who had given a plausible reason to the simple-minded purchaser for having the animal in his possession. The farmer had been able to give a quite minute description of the boy. Al had read that description, and now remembered, with a sinking of the heart, that it would apply to him fully as well as to the thief for whom he was taken. "See here," he exclaimed, impetuously, "you are making a terrible mistake! I am not the person you think me to be." "That's all right," was the sarcastic response of the spokesman of the crowd. "I told you we were not going to waste any words on you, and we are not." "String him up!" shouted another of the party. "Get the job done with! We're taking big chances in delaying the thing." "That's right!" "H'ist the derned hoss thief, then!" "We've had enough chin music; let's get to work." These were a few of the comments of the would-be executioners. One man now stepped to the front. It was he who had followed Al from the town. He had now donned a mask like the rest of the party. "I'll do the job," he said. "Will you leave it to me, gents?" Al started. Where had he heard that voice? Before any reply could be made he said, in a loud, clear voice: