The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1891-01-11

"a SILENT, DANGLING FORM"
only things visible in the valley were a
bunch of cattle and an Indian grave of
poles.
We'll rest here five minutes, then push
down the hill, across the prairie and up
the next ridge" remarked Garnett; 1.-THE
fellow can't be far ahead now"
Some lit their pipes, Others INDUCED III
vague speculation as to whether the
greaser would show fight" and q lariat
was chosen with which to perform the
final act in the tragedy.
"Well men," said the leader, cts time
to be away again. but there's one thing
want to caution you about. Take Spanish
Jim alive. He's cur, and shall die like
one"
Once more the pell nell rush, the eager
strainingto be first in the race Down the
slope they go. across the level and up the
low lying ridge, which is much easier to
mount than its predecessor. 1t is the ex-
speakers first experience in man hunt,
and he grows half mad with the excite
ment of the chase. His spurs are rarely
out of his black mounts sides; he sits far
forward in the saddle and shrieks words
of mingled encouragement and protest
ears. The crest is gained, and then the
first one there sends out a cry which is
like nothing save the first deep, angry bay
of bloodhound seeming the trail. The
others respond with all the force of their
lungs, for the prey is sighted.
Not two miles distant speck can be seen
moving over the prairie. 1t is Spanish
Jim astride the buckskin mare. Now, if
anything, the pace grows faster. The
fugitive has evidently caught sight of his
pursuers, for he lets out another notch OF
speed; but nearer and nearer it comes
that howli1g, relentless band. All hope
of escape 'e3nishes from Spanish Jim's
breast, and he calmly prepares for the in
evitable. Dismounting, he unslings his
army carbine and rests the barrel across
the saddle, making a partial screen for
himself with htsoody of the painting mare
At a hundred yards distance the pursuers
halt
Boys" is the order, eve can kill the
fellow easily, but you know 1 want him
alive. Besides, don't wish the buckskin
hurt if we can help it,"
Let's go at him Indian STYLE" suggests
Garnett; "circle about, and the first man
that has chance shall fire"
Slowly the horsemen separate and begin
the formation of the deadly Gordon. Span
ish Jim recognizes the plan for his undo
ing and opens hostilities.
Crack goesihis gun, and Broncho Bills
hat floats softly to the ground The ball
has plowed furrow through the mans
abundant hair, but he is uninjured A
comrade sees an opportunity, and responds
with shot which takes effect in the horse
thiefs leg and causes him to totter. He
braces himself against the saddle and
strains violently at the carbine. What is
the matter? ''The shell extractor doesn't
work. Close in" eXclaims cowboy
In they dash. Jim draws his knife and
makes n vicious lunge at the first enemy
that comes within reach. Then down he
goes, to be tramplcd over by horses and
seized by the executioners. He is lifted ON
the buckskin mare, his hands tied behind
him, and the ready lariat noosed about his
neck. But never Il word falls from his
nps. His swarthy face has a grim, set eX-
preston and his eyes CLEAN fiercely Blood
flows from his wounded leg, but not
groan tells of the pain he must suffer. His
captors look about them.
Over there" remarks the leader.
Cover there" is the shallow course of
small creek, along whose borders grow
some dwarf pines. Slowly the space is
Travelled, and in half an hour the goal Is
reached Broncho Bill rides under one of
the trees, and, reaching up to "a branch,
tests its strength.
'This'll do" is all he says. He passes on,
and Spanish jim takes the place. The
loose end of the lariat is fastened taut
about the limb. Then one of the lynchers
speaks.
Jim" he addresses the captive you
knew the penalty when you stole the
mare Have you anything to say before
you die?"
'My mother was wolf, and her whelps
never squeal.'
Pull her out''
The MONDAY sun looks down upon a
SILENT dangling form, beneath which the
coyotes have already begun to gather, and
marks in silhouette the passage of a little
troop of horsemen over the crest of a ridge
upon the eastern horizon.
FRED G. DAYTON.