The Pulaskian., 1921-10-06

He cleared his throat. spat between two fingers at the fire. and turned to the judge.
 Gentlemen -o' the jury growled the ruling Ball. ~have ye reached a verlict?"
 We have, yOre honor very prompt iy answered the Torrey who was fore man. And we ha' found the pTis'ner guilty e the wust kind Q coIdblooded, premeditated mudder in the fust de- gree, yore honor"
 Old Ball leveled a knotty forefinger toward Bill Dale.
 "Fo' the kiITin' O my son Adam" he pronounced sentence, you shH hang by the neck ontel dead, from a limb O this here warnut tree, by gon- nies, at sunrise in the mornin'."
 Although he had we'll known what the sentence would be- Dale went sud- denly ashen. Tben he took firm grip on himself and began to reason.
 He could not hope, he decided, that the Morelands and the Littlefords would find him before the sun rose. They would miss him, of course, and they would suspect foul play and look for him; but finding him in that wild erneSs-it was impossible. It became plain to him that he would have to save himself if he were saved He believed his best chance lay in his proving that he was anything but q coward; the worst mountaineer, ne knew, admired brave man.
 So he turned slightly toward the sef-appointed judge and asked calm ly:
 "Is there anything really game. about you?"
 "Shore, by gonniesl" quickly. Pm all game. Pm the feller at showed wildcats how to fight. What about it?'
 'Tll see if you're all game" Dale said, and he smiled when he spoke. 'Pll make you this propositions I'll fight any ten of you, two at time, with five minutes rest between fights; if I whip them all I go free. and if I don't whip them all I hang immedi- ately. All parties to be barehanded. no guns and no knives. Are you that gamew
 Ordinarily, it would have been a. thing we'll nigh impossible to do. much. as Dale knew of the pugilistic art great as was his strength and endur- ance. But now most of those about Dale were drunk and therefore weak ened and he believed he had a chance if cld Ball accepted
 But Judge Ball didn't accept. Doubt less he remembered his son Adam's fight with Dale.
 The cain't be no ffghtin' in cote, :" he said. You sh'll hang by the neck onteI dead, at sunrise in the mornin'."
 There was a humble of approval from the others. Doubtless they, too, remembered that the young man whom they held captive had once whipped Black Adam Ball, the mountaineer Goliath, with his bare hands. They did not have the one good trait that Dale had hoped they posseSsed; while they must have admired him for his lHcy MClc lO uSHI without weapons. Dale recalled the fact that the Balls were not originally hillfolk, but lowlanders who had taken to the mountains in order te avoid being forced to fight during the Civil war, a people without principle. The Cherokee Torreys, of course, were even worse.
 kitty, kitty, kitty!" Walt Turner called tauntingly again. 'He walked into the trap like pore little kitty !"'
 A plowline of half-inch cotton rope was produced, and the condemned man was securely bound, standing on. his feet and facing outward. to the big walnut. Desperate as was his case, Dale couldn't help being a trIie amused at that part of it. It was