his Honor stopped him, saying-, "This ere will probably be trying work, and I guess you had better leave the liquor, I may want some more of it."
The trial was then commenced, and conducted with perfect fairness. A number of witnesses testified to the shooting; in fact, the prisoner himself declared to the jury that he had killed the miner, and gave as a reason for having done so, that he had fooled everybody by putting on woman's clothing, exciting their curiosity, and swindling those engaged in the race. For his part, he thought "any dern skunk as would humbug a whole mining camp deserved to have a bullet-hole bored through his diaphragm."
After the testimony had been taken, the case was summed up in short speeches by the counsel and submitted to the jury. A whispered conversation for a few moments followed, and then the verdict was announced. The prisoner had been found guilty of murder in the first degree, and sentenced to be hanged by the neck until he was dead,
"I'll bet any man in the room five to one that I am not hanged until I am dead," coolly remarked the prisoner, when the verdict was rendered.
"I'll take you for a half-dozen ounces," replied the foreman of the jury, who was none other than our old friend, Hank Seymour, "fur it's the only time I ever had a dead thing on you. And now, my dying friend, let me give you a little advice. Select the spot you want to buried in, and engage your undertaker."
"Thank you for your advice, but I guess it hain't
