As Bridge
examined the various pictures an odd expression en-
tered his eyes--it was a mixture of puzzlement, incredu-
lity, and relief. Tossing the paper aside he turned to-
ward The Oskaloosa Kid. They could hear the sullen
murmur of the crowd in front of the jail.
"If they get any booze," he said, "they'll take us out
of here and string us up. If you've got anything to say
that would tend to convince them that you did not kill
Paynter I advise you to call the guard and tell the truth,
for if the mob gets us they might hang us first and listen
afterward--a mob is not a nice thing. Beppo was an angel
of mercy by comparison with one."
"Could you convince them that you had no part in
any of these crimes?" asked the boy. "I know that you
didn't; but could you prove it to a mob?"
"No," said Bridge. "A mob is not open to reason. If
they get us I shall hang, unless someone happens to
think of the stake."
The boy shuddered.
"Will you tell the truth?" asked the man.
"I will go with you," replied the boy, "and take what-
ever you get."
"Why?" asked Bridge.
The youth flushed; but did not reply, for there came
from without a sudden augmentation of the murmur-
ings of the mob.
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