“I feel pretty good,” the man said. “My back was a’ hurtin’ when I clumb up here, but it ain’t a’ hurtin’ no more.”
“Try to play the banjo again.”
“So’s you can have fun by pointin’ out how bad I am?” the man asked.
“Trust me. Just give it a try.”
The man raised up the banjo, plucked a few strings, sounding as discordant as before. Then, suddenly he began playing “Ole Dan Tucker,” dancing around as he did so.
“Give me some of that!” someone shouted from the crowd, and Smoke, who had stopped to watch the show, smiled as he rode on away from the wagon.
Finding an empty hitching rail, he dismounted, then tied Seven to the rail. As he did so, a young, freckle-faced boy walked over to him, holding up a stiffened piece of card.
“Mister, you want to buy this here official program what was put out by the town of Crystal?” the boy asked. “It only costs a nickel, and you’ll be able to keep it for a long time as a souvenir.”
“A nickel, huh?” Smoke took a coin from his pocket. “Well, I reckon I can see my way clear to spending a nickel. But tell me, what is it a souvenir of ?”
“Why, it’s a souvenir of the hangin’ of course,” the boy said. “You mean you didn’t know nothin’ ’bout the hangin’ we’re fixin’ to have here?”
“I’m afraid I didn’t,” Smoke replied. “Is that what all this is? Are all these people here to see a hanging?”
“Yes, sir, that’s what this is. This fella Parnell that we’re fixin’ to hang, him and four others it was that robbed the bank and got away with over six thousand dollars, they say. Only it ain’t the bank robbin’ he’s gettin’ hung for. What the robbers done is, they kilt Mr. Walker, Mr. Jones, and Mr. Teasdale, all of ’em bein’ customers in the bank when it was bein’ robbed.”
Although Smoke had told the boy he knew nothing about the hanging, that was a lie. He was there, not only because of the hanging, but specifically because Parnell was the name of the man being led to the gallows.
“Yes, sir, it’s goin’ to be a jim-dandy of a hangin’ all right,” the boy said. “I can’t hardly wait to see it.”
“Have you ever seen a hanging, boy?” Smoke asked.
“No sir, not for real. That’s ’cause we ain’t never had no legal hangin’ here before. But last summer, a fella by the name of Kelso was found hangin’ from a tree downtown, and I seen that afore they cut him down. Onliest thing is, they don’t nobody know whether he kilt hisself, or whether someone else kilt him.”
“Trust me, son,” Smoke said. “A hanging isn’t a good thing to watch.”
“Yes, sir, well, I reckon I’m goin’ to watch this one, though. And the hangin’ is all legal and proper. He was tried and ever’thing, and found guilty. You can read all about it in the program.” The boy turned and started toward another part of the crowd. “Program!” he shouted. “Get your souvenir program here!”
Smoke read the program.
LEGAL HANGING!
OF THE BANK ROBBER
COLE PARNELL
TO TAKE PLACE IN THE TOWN OF
CRYSTAL, COLORADO
ON THE 21ST INSTANT
SCHEDULE OF EVENTS:
ADDRESS BY MAYOR KINCAID
SONGS BY METHODIST CHURCH CHOIR
PRISONER VISITATION ON THE GALLOWS BY
FATHER LESTER D. OWENS
OF ST. PAUL’S EPISCOPAL CHURCH
READING OF WARRANT OF EXECUTION BY
SHERIFF JOHN C. DENNIS
LAST WORDS BEFORE HIS EXECUTION BY
COLE PARNELL
HANGING!
Smoke looked around until he saw the jail, then walked to it. A deputy stood just outside the front door. He held out his hand to stop Smoke. “Can’t nobody go in till after the hangin’.”
“I’m a deputy United States marshal investigating a murder,” Smoke said. “I need to talk to your prisoner before they hang him.”
“I don’t care who you are. Sheriff Dennis told me not to let anyone in and that’s just what I’m doin’.”
“Is the sheriff inside?”
“Yeah.”
“Let’s see what he says.” Smoke started toward the door.
“I done told you what he said.” The deputy went for his gun.
Smoke had his own pistol out so quickly the deputy was startled. He stopped, midway through his draw and offered no resistance as Smoke reached out to take his pistol from him.
“What do you say we talk to the sheriff now?” Smoke suggested.
They went inside. The sheriff was standing alongside his desk, looking down at an older man, who was filling out some papers.
“Here, what is this?” the sheriff asked. “Scooter, I told you to keep everyone out till after the hangin’.”
“Don’t blame Scooter, Sheriff Dennis. I forced the issue.” Smoke still held both pistols in his hands and seeing that, the sheriff put his hands up.
“What do you want, mister?”
Smoke put his pistol back in his holster, then handed the deputy’s gun back to him. “It’s like I told your deputy. I’m a deputy United States marshal, and I’m investigating a case. I need to talk to your prisoner before you hang him.”
“Did you have to come in with your gun drawn?”
