As it happened he was over neither.  The platform chanced to be passing across a culvert at the instant.  Beneath the culvert was a slimy pool.  Into this the two men plunged, alighting unharmed.

Byrne was the first to regain his feet.  He dragged the deputy sheriff to his knees, and before that frightened and astonished officer of the law could gather his wits together he had been relieved of his revolver and found himself looking into its cold and business-like muzzle.

Then Billy Byrne waded ashore, prodding the deputy sheriff in the ribs with cold steel, and warning him to silence.  Above the pool stood a little wood, thick with tangled wildwood.  Into this Byrne forced his prisoner.

When they had come deep enough into the concealment of the foliage to make discovery from the outside improbable Byrne halted.

“Now say yer prayers,” he commanded.  “I’m a-going to croak yeh.”

The deputy sheriff looked up at him in wild-eyed terror.

“My God!” he cried.  “I ain’t done nothin’ to you, Byrne.  Haven’t I always been your friend?  What’ve I ever done to you?  For God’s sake Byrne you ain’t goin’ to murder me, are you?  They’ll get you, sure.”

Billy Byrne let a rather unpleasant smile curl his lips.

“No,” he said, “youse ain’t done nothin’ to me; but you stand for the law, damn it, and I’m going to croak everything I meet that stands for the law.  They wanted to send me up for life—­me, an innocent man.  Your kind done it—­the cops.  You ain’t no cop; but you’re just as rotten.  Now say yer prayers.”

He leveled the revolver at his victim’s head.  The deputy sheriff slumped to his knees and tried to embrace Billy Byrne’s legs as he pleaded for his life.

“Cut it out, you poor boob,” admonished Billy.  “You’ve gotta die and if you was half a man you’d wanna die like one.”

The deputy sheriff slipped to the ground.  His terror had overcome him, leaving him in happy unconsciousness.  Byrne stood looking down upon the man for a moment.  His wrist was chained to that of the other, and the pull of the deputy’s body was irritating.

Byrne stooped and placed the muzzle of the revolver back of the man’s ear.  “Justice!” he muttered, scornfully, and his finger tightened upon the trigger.

Then, conjured from nothing, there rose between himself and the unconscious man beside him the figure of a beautiful girl.  Her face was brave and smiling, and in her eyes was trust and pride—­whole worlds of them.  Trust and pride in Billy Byrne.

Billy closed his eyes tight as though in physical pain.  He brushed his hand quickly across his face.

“Gawd!” he muttered.  “I can’t do it—­but I came awful close to it.”

Dropping the revolver into his side pocket he kneeled beside the deputy sheriff and commenced to go through the man’s clothes.  After a moment he came upon what he sought—­a key ring confining several keys.