"
This was soon done and the crowd pressed into the building.
"Now open the safe!" the chairman demanded, "and show us what's there."
But just here Farrington, terrified though he was, hesitated. Like the man
who, about to die on the gallows, cherishes hope of deliverance almost to
the last, so did he. Perhaps his friends would interfere to save him from
the ignominy. But alas! his former boon companions, Tom Fletcher and his
gang, were nowhere to be seen. They had quietly slunk away, fearful for
their own safety from the infuriated people. Now that safe door stood only
between Farrington and eternal disgrace. It was no wonder that he paused.
How could he do it? The perspiration stood in great beads upon his
forehead, and his knees would hardly support his body.
"I can't!" he gasped, looking imploringly around.
A yell was the only response to his appeal.
"Boys," cried the chairman, when the confusion had subsided, "there's a
coil of new rope over there in the corner, and a stout tree stands
outside. Suppose we give him his choice. He can either open the safe or go
up to the first limb."
"Hear, hear!" was the reply, and a rush was made for the rope, a long
piece cut off and a loop formed.
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