Only Five Minutes.

Te Aroha News, 15 February 1890, Page 4

Only Five Minutes.

The Time a Man was Given to Prepare: job a Violent Death. Colonel Will Middlehy, who has justreturned from the Indian territory, relates a startling experience. ‘I had permissionto traverse the territory,’ said the Colonel,. ‘ but I soon found that the white scoundrels who inhabit the country had no regard for it. One day, wet and hungry, I Btopped at a sort of public-house. A company of rough white men had assembled in the bar of the house. lat once noticed that I was regarded with disfavour, and I was on the eve of quitting the place when one fellow, as rough a man as 1 ever saw, said—‘Cap’n, what’s your bus’ness? ’ ‘ I am out here to look at the country.’ ‘ Hain’t you looked at it ? ’ * Yes.’ ‘ W T all, what air you bangin’ roun’ fur ?" * I have a right to hang around.’ ‘ What right ? ’ * This,’ I replied, producing my passportand presenting it to him. ‘ ’Tain’t worth hell room,’ he said, as he; cooly proceeded to tear it up. His companions roared with laughter. I had it pistol, but what could I do with a dozea desperate men? ‘Now,’ continued tho ruffian who had destroyed my passport, ‘ we understand you pretty well. You are & detective, and hain’t come hero after no good, nuther.’ ‘ I am nob a detective.’ ‘ Do you mean to say that I am a liar f ‘That’s what he does, Jock!’ Bhouted one of his companions. In a moment I was surrounded. Every man had drawn his pistol. ‘ I ought to kill you right here,’ said the ruffian addressed as Jack. ‘ I oughtenfc to let you live another minit.’ Some one advanced and relieved me of my pistol. ‘Now, I’ll tell you what we’ll do,’said Jack. ‘ We’ll just give you five minits to live. Stand right thar, now, an’ do your prayin’.’ In vain I pleaded. The ruffians would not listen to me. ‘lt’s jes’ five minits to twelve,’ said Jack. ‘Look up thar at the clock an’ count your time, an’ when 12 o’clock comes you are gone, an’ if you take your eyes offen it in the meantime you are gone anyhow.’

I gazed ab the clock and began to mumble a prayer. Oh, how precious a single moment of time can be ! I thought of my home, of my wife and childreu. Th® desperate men stepped behind me. I could hear the beating of my heart. Five minutes to live ! It had already seemed an age. Would the time never come ? Cold perspiration rolled down' my faco and almost blinded my eyes* I could but indistinctly see the face oir the clock, bub I knew that only a minute more was left me. That the wretches would kill me I had nob a doubt, but why had they chosen such a method? Then I remembered an article I had once read descriptive of the delight felt by such men in seeing a victim sufler. Death, of itself, was not sufficient punishment. Th® time must have nearly expired. My knees were so weak that I could scarcely stand. I wondered how I’d feel when the ballets should strike me. I wondered if I would hear the report of the pistols. I heard a laugh. I quickly turned and saw a negro, standing near me. The ruffians were gone. I glanced at the clock. Five minutes to twelve. ‘ What are you laughing at V I demanded of the negro. 1 At dat ole joke dem cowboys played oj» yer. Dat ar deck ain’ running, boss. Bit t gennermen tole meter gin yer dia rafeP Q i Heah it is, er haw, haw, haw 1’