The Winds of Chance

se, he who had effected the capture of the thieves, was speaking to Pierce. "

y Phillips' mind had ranged the events of the last crowded hour into some sort of order; his fancy had tinged them

lips shook his head. In his turn he inquired,

n' makes me weary. I'd hang 'em; I'd kick a bar'l out from under ei

ggestion was made to flog the thieves and send them out of the country. This met with inst

thongs to a whip-handle, the platform was cleared, and a call was issued for a man to administer the punishment. Some

ard. The latter was stripped to the waist, his wrists were firmly bound, then trussed up to one of the stout end-poles of the tent-

vercast, and a damp chill that searched the marrow was settling as the short afternoon drew to a close. The prisoner's naked bod

osure, writhed in his tracks and uttered a faint moan. Profiting by the inattention of his captors, Jim McCaskey summoned his strength and with an effort born of desperation wrenched himself free. Hands grasped at him as he bolted, bodies barred his way, but he bore them down; before the meaning of the commotion had dawned upon the crowd at large he had fought his way out and was speeding down the street. But fleet-footed men were at his heels, a roar of rage burst from the mob, and in a body it took up the chase. Down the stumpy, muddy trail went the pursuit, and every command to halt spurred the fleeing man to swifter flight. Cabin doors opened; people came running from their te

light, the short, swift pursuit and its tragic ending, had the effect, not of sobering the assembled citizens of Sheep Camp, not of satisfying their long-slumbering rage, but of inflaming it, of intoxicating them to a state of insa

an begins to revert in the time it takes his beard to grow. These fellows had left the world they knew behind them; they were in a world they knew not. Old standards had

ard upon the balls of his feet; his frame was racked by a spasm of agony; he strained at his thongs until his shoulder muscles sw

roared

again the leather strips wrapped around the victi

WO

t it. His head was drawn far back between his shoulders, his face was convulsed, and hi

HR

nt. The man's flesh was bei

OU

IV

it had climbed to eight the prisoner's body was dripping with blood, his trousers-band was sodden with it. When it had reach

the platform, seized the upraised whip, and tore it from the executioner's

y down. This action was greeted by an angry yell of protest; there was a rush toward the platform, but 'Poleon was joined by the leader of the posse, who scrambled through the press a

The show's over. The man took his medicine

'll finish the job

bent forward abri

drawing and cocking his six-shooter. "If you men ain't had enough blood for one day, I'll let a little more f

some antiseptic snatched from the canvas drugstore down the street, and with this he wet a handkerchief; then he washed McCaskey's lacerated back. A member of the committee joined him in this work of mercy; soon others came to their

to be numbed, paralyzed, by the nervous shock he had undergone, and yet he was not paralyzed, for his eyes

ng to take the first boat from Dyea. Is there anything y

When he had finished he rose, turned, and stared questioningly at the circle of hostile faces; his eyes still glittered with that basilisk glare of hatred and defiance. There was something huge, disconcerting, about the man. Not once had he appealed for mercy, not once had he complained

were again bound, this time behind him; a blanket roll was roped upon

Spit on me and

of men had formed, and this gauntlet Joe McCaskey was forced to run. He bore this ordeal as he had borne the other. Men

the latter made plain his undying hatred. McCaskey's gaze intensified, his upper lip drew back in a grimace similar to that which he had lifted to the sky when agony ran through his veins like fire; he seemed to concentrate t

say to this? And the Countess-that wonderful woman of ice and fire! That superwoman who could sway the minds of men, whose wit was quicker than light. Well, she had saved him, saved his good name, if not his neck, and his life was hers. Who was she? What mission brought her here? What hurry crowded on her heels? What idle chance had flung them into each other's arms? Or was it idle chance? Was there such a thing as chance, after all? Were n

could not bear to think of losing her. She was big, she w

et's help, had defied the miners'

Tom come back with

d T

ton. We're pardner

s tire

I can't make him understand we'd ought to keep the outfit together; he's got it scattered like a mad woman's hair. But old Tom's in the sere and yellow leaf: he's onnery, like all old men. I t

want work just now," said he. "I

de the trail, so that all who passed might read and ponder,

the body