There were Jem and two others dragging a man along whose white face and knocking knees betrayed his guilt and his terror.  Robinson knew him directly; it was Walker, who had been the decoy-duck the night his tent was robbed.

“Here is the captain!  Hurrah!  I’ve got him, captain.  This is the beggar that peppered the hole for me, and now we will pepper him!”

A fierce burst of exultation from the crowd.  They thirsted for revenge.  Jem had caught the man at the other end of the camp, and his offense was known by this time to half the mine.

“Proceed regularly, Jem,” said Robinson.  “Don’t condemn the man unheard.”

“Oh, no!  He shall be tried, and you shall be the judge.”

“I consent,” said Robinson, somewhat pompously.

Then arose a cry that made him reflect.

“Lynch!  Lynch! a seat for Judge Lynch!” and in a moment a judgment-seat was built with cradles, and he was set on high, with six strange faces scowling round him for one of his own clique.  He determined to back out of the whole thing.

“No, no!” cried he; “that is impossible.  I cannot be a judge in such a serious matter.”

“Why not?” roared several voices.

“Why not?  Because I am not a regular beak; because I have not got authority from the Crown.”

There was a howl of derision.

“We give you authority!”

“We order you to be judge!”

“We are King, Lords, and Commons!”

“Do what we bid you, or,” added a stranger, “we will hang you and the prisoner with one rope!”

Grim assent of the surrounding faces; Robinson sat down on the judgment-seat not a little discomposed.

“Now then,” remonstrated one; “what are you waiting for?  Name the jury.”

“Me!” “Me!” “Me!” “I!” “I!” “I!” and there was a rush for the office.

“Keep cool,” replied another.  “Lynch law goes quick, but it goes by rule.  Judge, name the jury.”

Robinson, a man whose wits seldom deserted him, at once determined to lead, since he could not resist.  He said with dignity:  “I shall choose one juryman from each of the different countries that are working in this mine, that no nation may seem to be slighted, for this gold belongs to all the world.”

“Hurrah!  Well done, judge.  Three cheers for Judge Lynch!”

“When I call a country, give me a name, which I will inscribe on my report of the proceedings.  I want a currency lad first.”

“Here is one.  William Parker.”

“Pass over.  France.”

“Present.  Pierre Chanot.”

“Germany.”

“Here.  Hans Muller.”

“Holland.”

“Here.  Jan Van der Stegen.”

Spain and Italy were called, but no reply.  Asleep, I take it.

“United States.”

“Here.  Nathan Tucker.”

Here Robinson, casting his eyes round, spied McLaughlan, and, being minded to dilute the severity of his jury, he cried out, “Scotland.  McLaughlan, you shall represent her.”