The Washburn times. [volume] (Washburn, Wis.) 1896-1976, 1921-03-03

that surged up to his eyes and struck
out splinter Of fire. He turned TO
the man on the horse.
"Sheriff, if you'll stick my gun back
and cut my hands loose, I'll rope you
the real Red Mask
1t was an unwise thing to say. He
knew it the moment he'd said 1t. lt
was unlike him. The man leaning IN
apparent carelessness against the
hitch rack was probably quite I'M
aware that he was suspected. Ii
might prove costly mistake to let
him know that he was. Besides, It
was extremely unlikely that he would
have the pearl still on him. With the
pearl gone, the proof would be gone.
The Pearlhunters usual slow caution
should have brought good many con-
siderations to his mind before he SAID
that. But rope around mans neck
makes a prodigious difference In the
look of things. One cannot help won
dering what would have been the OUT
come had the sheriff needed the re-
quest and cut loose the hands OF MS
prisoner. Things would have hap
pened-and they would have hap
pened fast.
The sheriff laughed; hard, raspy
laugh. A good many things in that
laugh: the jangle of handcuffs; the
CRATE of keys in stiff locks--but never
mite of mirth.
Hes roped now"
Hes not" was the Pearlhunter's
incautious answer ''but he's handy"
He had purposely raised his voice.
But the man for whose ear it was in
tended never shifted his position
never changed, even in the slightest,
his easy smile. He did slip his hand
down the front of his frock coat and
loosen it against his side, but that
was all.
The sheriff swore; turned slowly IN
his saddle and glanced the crowd over.
Ladies an gentlemen" he said, rails
ing his voice, "as i said before. this
man Is entitled to a trial, an a trial
he'll git. He'll hang-but it'll be the
law that hangs i'm, an not you. / adj
wise you to break up this damn fool
ishness an go home
It could be seen with half an eye
that the sheriff was in no humor to
stand any back talk. The crowd didn't
try it; they obeyed--many sullenl"
some grumbling openly. A few stayed.
The man leaning against the hitch
rack went back to the Mud Hen.
The village of Buckeye struggles
for quarter of a mile along the river
road. The road is bigger institution
than the town. 1t formed the princi-
pal street The village lookup, or
iail stood in plain sight a short way
to the west on the north side of the
road.
The sheriff dismounted, picked up
the slit and trampled blouse. threw 1t
about the shoulders of his prisoner
and united the severed rope end still
knotted about his neck. With NUT
tered command; he made slight mo-
ton toward the jail with his revolver.
The PeaTlhunter, still with bound
hands, his shirt so tattered that it
left him half-naked from his waist up,
the blood upon his face and body fast
stiffening into clots, obeyed the COM
mand.
Inside the lookup the sheriff cut his
hands loose, and Immediately stepped
outside and locked the door, seeming
to have no fancy to tarry after his
prisoners hands were free. Turning
back to his prisoner he pointed out
his house and told him he would bring
over some supper later on.
The Buckeye lookup was two
story, rectangular structure of heavy
logs. There were two cells, with a
hallway between, on the first floor,
and the same arrangement above. The
Pearlhunter was the only prisoner, so
he had free range of both lower cells.
The barred gate opening to the stair
leading to the upper floor was heavily
padlocked. The door Of the Jail faced
south-faced the river road. Each
cell had one window; the window of
the one looking east, the window OF
the other looking west. These win
dows were both rather larger than
might have been expected. Each con-
tanned a single sash. with the four
bars to each window, set in auger
holes in the logs at the top and bot
tom. The sash was hinged at the side
so as to swing In. Z
The Pearlhunter opened the sash at
the west window and swung it back
as far as it would go. Through the
bars he could look out under the cool,
calm trees in the Jail yard. The river
road wound dusty and dry toward the
shutdown; wound to the first curve
and hid itself in the hills; wound on
to that sharp turn at the rim of the
deep woods by the low fence. And
there the path began, the dim slim
path worn by wonderful feet; the path
that led to a girl with eyes like the
placid sky at the bottom of the
spring; eyes that trusted" him, that
would look for him. What would they
be like when he didn't come; when
the word reached her that he was the
Red Mask? He thought, of that bit of
scarlet cloth behind the books, with
the knife thrust near an eyehole
What if he should never have the
chance to set himself right-if he
should die without the chance? What
would the eyes be like then?
y7yl, II - ! Ill