hand and foot, and entirely at the mercy of his captors, was as cool and collected as if he was seated behind his gambling-table, shuffling cards for a lot of greenhorns. He would sneeringly address those who were crying out for his life, and say:
"You dern fools are a-wastin' of yer breaths. Yer can't hang me. 'Tain't in the cards. I wasn't born to be hung. So 'tain't no use making a fuss about sich a little matter, and you'd be making money ef you'd stop botherin' me."
"What makes you think there is no danger of our hanging you?" asked one of those who had been stationed as guard over the prisoner.
"'Cause when I was born'd, the stars showed that I was to be drownded."
"May be the stars will fail."
"They can't. They have shone in the heavens ever since the creation, and will remain thar until the end of time; so 'tis impossible for 'em to fail."
"We'll see about it after a while."
The question of how the prisoner should be tried was a difficult one to settle. There was no regularly instituted court nearer than Marysville, and to send him there and await the law's delays would cost too much money, occupy too much time, and be certain to result in the prisoner's escaping merited punishment. After the subject had been thoroughly canvassed in all its bearings, it was decided to organize a court, and have the trial take place immediately. Gabe Husker was chosen judge, another miner sheriff; a jury was then selected to try the prisoner, and
