The taunting call was hardly out of his mouth, however, when a hissing bullet struck his pony squarely in the back of the head, penetrating the brain. The speeding beast collapsed instantly, throwing the surprised Fagan forward in a wild, whirling somersault that ended only when he struck the ground ten feet ahead, with a prodigious thud. “He’s knocked cold!” called Ben Gordon, as he sped up on his sweating horse. “Good!” said Van Alstyne, checking his mount nearby. “That’ll make him easier to handle. Get a lariat, somebody, and tie him hand and foot! We’ll see that he gets his medicine in a hurry.” CHAPTER 12 Stillman’s Run By the time that Van Alstyne and his party had got back to their camp, the deserter, Fagan, had recovered his senses, though still a bit woozy. Otherwise, surprisingly enough, he showed no ill effects from his terrific tumble. “I didn’t think he’d have a sound bone in his body,” Ben Gordon asserted. “He hit that ground like a ton of bricks.” Van Alstyne at once hurried off to confer with Major Isaiah Stillman, square-faced, straw-haired commander of the militia force of three hundred men. The two of them put their heads together and agreed to call a drum-head court-martial immediately. Van Alstyne himself was to act as judge-advocate, by authority of his rank as an officer in the regular army of the United States. Stillman and four other of his volunteer officers were to comprise the court, which had complete jurisdiction in all cases, including capital offenses in time of war. The sullen Fagan was duly arraigned before this court, but refused the offer to testify in his own behalf. Principal witnesses called against him were Ben Gordon, Jim Martin and the three other troopers. After hearing all the evidence, the court deliberated for ten minutes, and then declared itself as ready to report. “What is the verdict of the court, Major Stillman?” asked Van Alstyne, amid the most intense quiet from the soldier audience. “Guilty, sir!” replied Stillman, in a firm voice. “Stand forth, Fagan,” sternly ordered Van Alstyne, “and receive your sentence.” “It is the order of the court,” went on the Major, “that the defendant, said Patrick Fagan, be taken before a firing squad of eight soldiers tomorrow morning, May 15th, at daybreak, and shot dead, as punishment for desertion and giving aid and comfort to an enemy in time of war.” The doomed man was then taken from the court, mouthing horrid threats against all concerned, and bound to the wheel of a heavy wagon within the camp. To make him doubly secure, a soldier with fixed bayonet was delegated to stand guard six paces distant. Fresh guards were to be posted each hour. As for Van Alstyne, he now had a chance to acquaint Major Stillman more fully with the facts regarding the Sac messengers and their flag of truce. “So the Hawk sent us an ultimatum?” chortled Stillman, as he ushered the Captain into his tent.