territory is bound to attract a great deal of attention.”
“And the hangin’ will attract even more, wherever they do it. Everybody in the territory wants to see Joshua Shade get what’s comin’ to him.”
Sam knew that was true. Public hangings were like holidays in most frontier towns. People would come from miles around. Kids would run around and play, shouting and laughing. If Arrowhead had a band, it would probably play a few rousing patriotic songs. There might even be a speech or two before the main event.
Sam had read stories in Eastern newspapers calling such hoopla over a man’s execution barbaric. What those soft-handed Easterners failed to understand was that a hanging was a reminder, however fleeting, that such a thing as law and order actually existed. In a land where swift, brutal death could strike without warning—from outlaws, from Indians, from nature itself—it did folks some good to see that every now and then, justice was served…even if it was a harsh, unforgiving justice.
What else could people expect in a harsh, unforgiving land?
Sam didn’t feel any sympathy for Joshua Shade. The man was a vicious lunatic, and Sam reserved his sympathy for all the people Shade and his gang had hurt along the way.
Now that the feeling had spread through the town that it would be better if Shade wasn’t hanged here, the worry that a lynch mob might try to take him out of the jail had eased. Matt and Sam didn’t have to stay barricaded behind the building’s thick walls around the clock except for when Flagg brought in their meals.
Flagg came up to the blood brothers and gave them a friendly nod. “Been down at the town hall makin’ sure there’ll be enough chairs for everybody. Of course, there won’t be, the way folks’ll pack in there. But at least there’ll be places for the judge and the lawyers and the defendant to sit.”
“You actually found a lawyer to represent Shade?” Matt asked.
“Yeah, old Colonel Wilmont said he’d do it. I don’t know how he intends to defend a varmint like Shade, but that’s his problem.” Flagg thumbed back his hat. “My problem is I need somebody to ride out and meet the judge to make sure he gets into town all right. I got to worryin’ that Shade’s bunch might try to stop him.”
“That would just postpone the trial,” Sam pointed out. “It wouldn’t really change anything.”
“Yeah, but who knows how an outlaw thinks?”
“You want us to take care of that chore?” Matt asked.
“I was thinkin’ you might,” Flagg admitted. “Randy and me and my other deputy can hold down the fort here. I got half a dozen other volunteers who’d be glad to pitch in if I needed ’em, too. I don’t reckon we’re gonna have any trouble here, though. Stan Hightower’s passed the word to all the other ranchers in the area to let the trial go on as planned, and Mayor Wiley’s done the same thing here in town. We may have a few hombres gettin’ drunk to celebrate what’s gonna happen to Shade, but I reckon that’ll be about all.”
Matt lowered his rifle so that the barrel smacked into the palm of his left hand. “All right,” he said. “After the last few days, it’ll feel good to get out and move around some, won’t it, Sam?”
“I’m sure our horses will appreciate the opportunity to stretch their legs,” Sam agreed.
Flagg told them which trail the judge would be coming in on. They headed for the livery stable and saddled up their horses. Since they didn’t know exactly how far out of town they would have to ride to meet the judge, they filled their canteens and took some biscuits left over from breakfast to tide them over in the middle of the day if necessary.
The horses were skittish and high-spirited from being cooped up, as Sam had predicted. He and Matt felt pretty much the same way. As soon as they were well clear of town, they put the animals into a hard gallop to ease some of that tension.
After half a mile, the blood
“And the hangin’ will attract even more, wherever they do it. Everybody in the territory wants to see Joshua Shade get what’s comin’ to him.”
Sam knew that was true. Public hangings were like holidays in most frontier towns. People would come from miles around. Kids would run around and play, shouting and laughing. If Arrowhead had a band, it would probably play a few rousing patriotic songs. There might even be a speech or two before the main event.
Sam had read stories in Eastern newspapers calling such hoopla over a man’s execution barbaric. What those soft-handed Easterners failed to understand was that a hanging was a reminder, however fleeting, that such a thing as law and order actually existed. In a land where swift, brutal death could strike without warning—from outlaws, from Indians, from nature itself—it did folks some good to see that every now and then, justice was served…even if it was a harsh, unforgiving justice.
What else could people expect in a harsh, unforgiving land?
Sam didn’t feel any sympathy for Joshua Shade. The man was a vicious lunatic, and Sam reserved his sympathy for all the people Shade and his gang had hurt along the way.
Now that the feeling had spread through the town that it would be better if Shade wasn’t hanged here, the worry that a lynch mob might try to take him out of the jail had eased. Matt and Sam didn’t have to stay barricaded behind the building’s thick walls around the clock except for when Flagg brought in their meals.
Flagg came up to the blood brothers and gave them a friendly nod. “Been down at the town hall makin’ sure there’ll be enough chairs for everybody. Of course, there won’t be, the way folks’ll pack in there. But at least there’ll be places for the judge and the lawyers and the defendant to sit.”
“You actually found a lawyer to represent Shade?” Matt asked.
“Yeah, old Colonel Wilmont said he’d do it. I don’t know how he intends to defend a varmint like Shade, but that’s his problem.” Flagg thumbed back his hat. “My problem is I need somebody to ride out and meet the judge to make sure he gets into town all right. I got to worryin’ that Shade’s bunch might try to stop him.”
“That would just postpone the trial,” Sam pointed out. “It wouldn’t really change anything.”
“Yeah, but who knows how an outlaw thinks?”
“You want us to take care of that chore?” Matt asked.
“I was thinkin’ you might,” Flagg admitted. “Randy and me and my other deputy can hold down the fort here. I got half a dozen other volunteers who’d be glad to pitch in if I needed ’em, too. I don’t reckon we’re gonna have any trouble here, though. Stan Hightower’s passed the word to all the other ranchers in the area to let the trial go on as planned, and Mayor Wiley’s done the same thing here in town. We may have a few hombres gettin’ drunk to celebrate what’s gonna happen to Shade, but I reckon that’ll be about all.”
Matt lowered his rifle so that the barrel smacked into the palm of his left hand. “All right,” he said. “After the last few days, it’ll feel good to get out and move around some, won’t it, Sam?”
“I’m sure our horses will appreciate the opportunity to stretch their legs,” Sam agreed.
Flagg told them which trail the judge would be coming in on. They headed for the livery stable and saddled up their horses. Since they didn’t know exactly how far out of town they would have to ride to meet the judge, they filled their canteens and took some biscuits left over from breakfast to tide them over in the middle of the day if necessary.
The horses were skittish and high-spirited from being cooped up, as Sam had predicted. He and Matt felt pretty much the same way. As soon as they were well clear of town, they put the animals into a hard gallop to ease some of that tension.
After half a mile, the blood
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