This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.

had sounded denunciation in the voice of judgment.

The smoke of the guns stood heavy between Henderson and the adobe wall. He could see Toberman's white shirt, his body stretched full-length where he had fallen on his face. The general spoke to Don Abrahan, looking again toward Henderson. They conferred together, as if considering some stroke of punishment fitting to the affront.

The officer in command of the firing squad gave a harsh command to the shrinking ranch laborers, who had been compelled to assemble and witness the degradation and death of the man whom they had respected and obeyed, some of them all their lives. A few went forward with reluctant feet, lifted Toberman's body and bore it away.

Henderson was careless of all consequences to himself, superior to the helplessness of his present state. The weariness of lying all night in ropes under Simon's unfeeling eyes was forgotten, the pain and stiffness dissolved out of his muscles and was gone. When Don Abrahan and the military commander approached, he leaned in the saddle, straining on his bonds.

"Don Abrahan Garvanza, you have done a cowardly and atrocious thing!" he charged.

Don Abrahan stopped, looking Henderson sternly in the eyes, gazing long, as if sounding him for the courage and manhood that lay within.

"So a traitor has died, so traitors must die," Don Abrahan said.