headed by the gentlemanly hangman, swinging a rope; then bobbies, jailers, trusties. The doomed man walked rather jauntily at the side of the parson, who was mumbling prayers and looking benign.
"Presently the procession stood under the gallows, all necks craned, and a hush fell upon the expectant crowd as the hangman's assistant pulled the linen cap down over his victim's face. As he got busy adjusting the noose, shouts of 'reprieve!' 'reprieve!' went up. The hangman looked at the governor and the governor turned towards the gate, which had opened to admit a small messenger boy from the telegraph office.
"The boy was waving a yellow envelope over his head, and the governor signalled to the hangman to wait.
"At the same time the telegraph boy was hoisted over the shoulders of the crowd until he reached the place where the governor stood. As the governor received and opened the dispatch, there were more hoarse cries of 'reprieve!' and they were not cries of relief or triumph either. Sure, the crowd thought itself cheated. The men and women and children (for there were plenty of children, as usual) thought that they had bet on a horse that didn't run—a dead horse that wasn't dead enough, so to speak!
"But, presto! another change. The governor, having glanced at the message, made a wry face, then crumpled the paper up in his
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