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Vachell, Horace Annesley, 1861-1955

"Bunch Grass A Chronicle of Life on a Cattle Ranch"

The judge pronounced sentence--
"Ye've five minutes. Say yer prayers, if ye feel like it."
The simple preparations were made swiftly. Two raw-hide lariats were
properly adjusted. The prisoners looked on with the stoical
indifference of Red Indians. It might have been said of the pair that
neither had known how to live, but each knew how to die.
"Ready?" said the 'Piker.'
"Hold on!" replied a high-pitched voice.
The crowd turned to behold Mintie. She had crawled up silently and
stealthily. But now she stood upright, her small head thrown back, her
eyes glittering in the moonlight.
"Got a rope fer me?" she asked. "I've heard everything."
Nobody answered. The girl laughed; then she said slowly--
"I shot Jake Farge--with this."
She threw a small revolver at the 'Piker,' who picked it up. "I killed
him at five this afternoon. I knew that if I didn't do it Pap would,
and that you'd hang him. Jake came after me agen an' agen, an' each
time I warned him. To-day he came fer the last time. He was half-
crazy, and I had to kill the beast to save myself. I did it, and"--
she looked steadfastly at Smoky Jack--"I ain't ashamed of it, neither.


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