were thrown over a stout branch. One of the leaders

started to search them; and when he drew his hands out

of Bridge's side pockets his eyes went wide, and he

gave a cry of elation which drew excited inquiries from

all sides.

"By gum!" he cried, "I reckon we ain't made no mis-

take here, boys. Look ahere!" and he displayed two

handsful of money and jewelry.

"Thet's Abbie Prim's stuff," cried one.

The boy beside Bridge turned wide eyes upon the

man. "Where did you get it?" he cried. "Oh, Bridge,

why did you do it? Now they will kill you," and he

turned to the crowd. "Oh, please listen to me," he

begged. "He didn't steal those things. Nobody stole

them. They are mine. They have always belonged to

me. He took them out of my pocket at the jail because

he thought that I had stolen them and he wanted to

take the guilt upon himself; but they were not stolen,

I tell you--they are mine! they are mine! they are mine!"

Another new expression came into Bridge's eyes as he

listened to the boy's words; but he only shook his head.

It was too late, and Bridge knew it.

Men were adjusting ropes about their necks. "Be-

fore you hang us," said Bridge quietly, "would you mind

explaining just what we're being hanged for--it's sort of

comforting to know, you see."

"Thet's right," spoke up one of the crowd. "Thet's fair.

We want to do things fair and square. Tell 'em the

charges, an' then ask 'em ef they got anything to say

afore they're hung."

This appealed to the crowd--the last statements of

the doomed men might add another thrill to the eve-

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