WESTERN CATTLE LANDS. 347 



man " nor devil. " No," he answered firmly, " you have not 

 money enough in camp to buy me. I'm for the prosecution — 

 and hang him they shall." " We'll shoot you then ! " went 

 forth from a score of ruffianly throats — and a- score of hands 

 went to their waist-belts. " Shoot me — not you !" retorted the 

 Colonel ; " you haven't guns enough in camp to do it." And 

 looking steadily in their faces, not a muzzle went up. He then 

 rode coolly off. Their next move was to send a heavy bribe to 

 the sheriff that another jury should be packed and substituted. 

 But the sheriff, though amenable enough to the influence of 

 gold, knew better than to tamper with the body of citizens 

 now roused to white heat in defence of their newly constituted 

 tribunal. They meant to have everything in order. Judge 

 Steel should direct the jury ; and the prisoner might have the 

 services of Judge Smith (another judge so called, for the de- 

 nomination clings to every individual who has once been called 

 upon to dispense justice, however crudely). 



So Ives was tried ; found guilty of murder ; and Judge Steel 

 passed sentence of death. Up rose Colonel Sanders ; and 

 turning from the judge and jury to the assembled crowd, 

 shouted, " And now for the verdict of the people ! I move that 

 this sentence be carried into effect within one hour, and that 

 the prisoner be hanged by the neck till he is dead before the 

 people ! " A storm of acclamation carried the motion — while 

 the assentors brought their right hands on their pistols and 

 formed front against the cluster of dissentients, who had moved 

 up with a view to rescue. In vain argued the counsel for 

 defence, " Surely no prisoner may be taken to death within an 

 hour of verdict and sentence." The reply came promptly from 

 the mouth of Boedler, the head of the Vigilantes — one whose 

 experience might fill volumes with episodes more thrilling than 

 Dumas, Poe, or Rider Haggard ever dreamed of. " ])id he give 

 the Dutchman an hour ? " " No, no," shouted the excited 

 miners. " String him up ! Bring a rope ! " And moving with 

 his audience, Sanders again jumped upon a cask to be heard. 

 " I now move," he cried, " that this sentence of the people be 



