Fifty threats were hurled at the bold speaker, and the click of gunlocks preceded a surge in his direction. Then from the mob went up a sullen, formidable muttering of warning. No individual voice could be distinguished; but the total effect of dead resistance and determination could not be mistaken. Instantly, at the words so valiantly uttered, the spirit of cohesion had been born. The desperadoes checked in surprise. We had friends. How many or how strong no one could guess; but they were there, and in case of a battle they would fight. On our side the line was a dead, grim silence. We stood, our weapons ready, rigidly at attention. Occasionally one or the other of us muttered a warning against those who showed symptoms of desiring to interfere. In the meantime, three of our number had been proceeding methodically with the construction of a gallows. This was made by thrusting five small pine butts, about forty feet long, over a cross beam in the gable of the cabin and against the roof inside. Large drygoods boxes were placed beneath for the trap. About this time Danny Randall, who had been superintending the construction, touched me on the shoulder. "Fall back," he said quietly. "Now," he instructed several of us, after we had obeyed this command, "I want you to bring out the prisoners and hold them in plain view. In case of rescue or attempted escape, shoot them instantly. Don't hesitate." "I should think they would be safer inside the cabin," I suggested. "Sure," agreed Danny, "but I want them here for the moral effect." We entered the cabin. The five prisoners were standing or sitting. Scar-face Charley was alternately blaspheming violently, upbraiding his companions, cursing his own luck, and uttering frightful threats against everybody who had anything to do with this. Crawford was watching him contemptuously and every once in a while advising him to "shut up!" Jules was alternately cursing and crying. Morton sat at one side quite calm and very alert. Catlin stared at the floor. The moment we entered Catlin ran over to us and began to plead for his life. He, better than the rest, with the possible exception of Morton, seemed to realize the seriousness of his plight. From pleadings, which we received in silence, he changed to arguments concerning his innocence. "It is useless," replied one of our men. "That affair is settled and cannot be changed. You are to be hanged. You cannot feel worse about it than I do; but I could not help it if I would." Catlin stood for a moment as though overwhelmed; then he fell on his knees before us and began to plead rapidly.