“Nefer you mind, Bill.  I talk mit you next.  Now von anodder ding I ask Kentucky.  If Shudge Lynch hang not der man, vot den?”

“If Judge Lynch does not hang the man, then the man goes free, and his hands are washed clean of blood.  And further, suh, our great and glorious constitution has said, to wit:  that no man may twice be placed in jeopardy of his life for one and the same crime, or words to that effect.”

“Unt dey can’t shoot him, or hit him mit a club over der head alongside, or do nodings more mit him?”

“No, suh.”

“Goot!  You hear vot Kentucky speaks, all you noddleheads?  Now I talk mit Bill.  You know der piziness, Bill, und you hang me up brown, eh?  Vot you say?”

“‘Betcher life, an’, Jan, if yeh don’t give no more trouble ye’ll be almighty proud of the job.  I’m a connesoor.”

“You haf der great head, Bill, und know somedings or two.  Und you know two und one makes tree—­ain’t it?”

Bill nodded.

“Und when you haf two dings, you haf not tree dings—­ain’t it?  Now you follow mit me close und I show you.  It takes tree dings to hang.  First ding, you haf to haf der man.  Goot!  I am der man.  Second ding, you haf to haf der rope.  Lawson haf der rope.  Goot!  Und tird ding, you haf to haf someding to tie der rope to.  Sling your eyes over der landscape und find der tird ding to tie der rope to?  Eh?  Vot you say?”

Mechanically they swept the ice and snow with their eyes.  It was a homogeneous scene, devoid of contrasts or bold contours, dreary, desolate, and monotonous,—­the ice-packed sea, the slow slope of the beach, the background of low-lying hills, and over all thrown the endless mantle of snow.  “No trees, no bluffs, no cabins, no telegraph poles, nothin’,” moaned Red Bill; “nothin’ respectable enough nor big enough to swing the toes of a five-foot man clear o’ the ground.  I give it up.”  He looked yearningly at that portion of Jan’s anatomy which joins the head and shoulders.  “Give it up,” he repeated sadly to Lawson.  “Throw the rope down.  Gawd never intended this here country for livin’ purposes, an’ that’s a cold frozen fact.”

Jan grinned triumphantly.  “I tank I go mit der tent und haf a smoke.”

“Ostensiblee y’r correct, Bill, me son,” spoke up Lawson; “but y’r a dummy, and you can lay to that for another cold frozen fact.  Takes a sea farmer to learn you landsmen things.  Ever hear of a pair of shears?  Then clap y’r eyes to this.”

The sailor worked rapidly.  From the pile of dunnage where they had pulled up the boat the preceding fall, he unearthed a pair of long oars.  These he lashed together, at nearly right angles, close to the ends of the blades.  Where the handles rested he kicked holes through the snow to the sand.  At the point of intersection he attached two guy-ropes, making the end of one fast to a cake of beach-ice.  The other guy he passed over to Red Bill.  “Here, me son, lay holt o’ that and run it out.”