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"In the yard there they hung three o' them. He was the last. Our gang was last, too. One after another they hung 'em, and us standing there in the rain at sundown waiting for him to die so we could cart him off.

"Raining an' getting dark fast. Us with leg irons on, wearing yellow an' black, me with arrowheads sewed on to show that I was bad. There we stood in the mud, you an' me an' Brundage, waiting for him to die. An' the doctor there, jiggling his big watch and cursing because he had to wait for the third man to die 'fore he could go to his supper.

"An' we stood there in the dark an' rain, and him up there like a darker something than the black sky, with lightning all about overhead.

"Then they kicked him off. He dropped—cr-r-ack! No other sound like the sound o' bones breaking in flesh. You don't hear it—you just sort o' feel it in your own neck.

"Right off that doctor said, 'Dead an' damned—curse him! I'm late for supper now!' And off he walked, splashing and slipping an' swearing.