266 THE HORSE AND HIS RIDER 



Mexican walked over the hill brow, jingling his spurs 

 pleasantly in accord with a whistled waltz. The 

 advocate for law said in an undertone, " That's the 

 cuss." 



C A rush, a struggle, and the Mexican, bound 

 hand and foot, lay on his back in the bar-rooin. 

 Happily such cries as " String him up ! " " Burn the 

 doggoned lubricator ! " and other equally pleasant 

 phrases, fell unheeded upon his Spanish ear. 



' A jury, upon which they forced my friend, was 

 quickly gathered in the street, and despite refusals 

 to serve, the crowd hurried them in behind the bar. 

 A brief statement of the case was made by the ci- 

 devant advocate, and they shoved the jury into a 

 commodious poker-room, where seats were grouped 

 about neat green tables. The noise outside the bar- 

 room by-and-by died away into complete silence, but 

 from afar down the canon came confused sounds as 

 of disorderly cheering. 



' They came nearer, and again the light-hearted 

 noise of human laughter mingled with clinking 

 glasses. A low knock at the door of the jury-room ; 

 the lock burst in, and a dozen smiling fellows asked 

 the verdict. 



' A foreman promptly replied, " Not guilty." 



' With volleyed oaths and ominous laying of hands 

 on pistol-hilts, the boys slammed the door, with 

 " You'll have to do better than that ! " 



e In half an hour the advocate opened the door 

 again. 



