Alias: The Hangman From Hell

by Franklin D. Lincoln

Plainview was a growing, thriving community. Unlike a lot of frontier towns, Plainview had grown beyond just one street. Most of the mercantile, livery and other commercial establishments still filled the main street that ran down the center of town. Running parallel to Main Street on each side were three more streets. These seven streets were now crisscrossed with five more streets.

  On the outskirts of town, an area of three or four acres had been cleared and maintained as a town park. At one end of the park, there was a large gazebo, which was obviously used as a forum for group meetings or entertainment. Several rows of bleachers had been built in a half semi circle around it for spectators to sit.

  It was this park like area, that Laredo saw first as his first sight of Plainview. There were several wagons loaded with canvas and several men with ropes and big wooden mallets, milling about. What drew Laredo’s attention, the most, were the other horse drawn wagons. They were brightly painted in red, white, and blue. The logo emblazoned on the sides was a large round circle with pictures of clowns, lions, and tigers. Around the logo were the words ‘McBride Brothers Circus.’

  Two elephants; a large one and a baby one were picketed by a single iron stake, in the shade of a huge elm tree and were nuzzling at bunches of hay.

  As Laredo and the posse rode past the park, commercial establishments became more and more prevalent and as they entered Main Street a banner had been strung across the street high above their heads. It read ‘Plainview Justice Festival July 12-14. Welcome and Have a Good Time.’

  Laredo was curious about what was going on, but he knew better than to ask, for perhaps, Henry Dillard should already know what is was. A gnawing feeling dug in The Kid’s gut. He had a feeling, he knew what this was all about and if he was right, it sickened him to think that people could revel in someone else’s misery, no matter how much it was deserved.

  As they rode farther along the street, Laredo could see that the town seemed to be bursting at the seams with throngs of people. Excitement was in the air and there was hustle and bustle everywhere. Wagons and teams moving up and down the street only added to the congestion, forcing Laredo and the posse riders to hold their mounts to a slow walk, picking their way gingerly through the crowds.

  Heads turned and fingers pointed at the riders. It was obvious that Laredo was an attraction. The Kid held his head down and tried not to notice.

  About half way down the street, Sheriff Logan motioned toward a two story brick building off to the right. The gable was pointed and hanging from the peak of the roof, a flag pole extended outward. An American flag draped from the rod: it’s stars and stripes billowing and waving slightly with the light wind. The legend ‘Plainview Court House’ was carved into the arch above the main entrance door.

  “Mister Dillard and I are stopping off here,” Logan shouted to the other men. “Thank you for riding posse. Go with Clay to the office. He’ll have a day’s pay for each of you.” He lifted the reins and angled his horse toward the court house.

  Laredo followed suit while the other riders separated and pull their mounts toward the other side of the street.

  Logan and Laredo pulled up to the hitch rail in front of the brick building. They dismounted and tied their horses

  .

  Judge Isaiah Caine’s court was on the second floor and it was furnished as a proper court room should, much unlike the makeshift quarters for legal proceedings that were usually found in most small western towns.

  The bench was built high and its top gleamed with imported mahogany. The spectators’ gallery was ample and fenced off from the prosecution and defense tables by a wooden railing. Off to the side was a jury box. The seats were cushioned and another railing separated the box from the rest of the courtroom.

  To the right of the bench was a door with a frosted glass window. Words painted in black lettering said ‘Judge Isaiah Caine-Chambers’.

  Logan escorted Laredo, now known as the hangman, Henry Dillard to this door. Above the door and a tad to the right of it, was a small bell with a cord attached to it and hanging a foot downward.

  Logan grasped the cord and the bell tinkled. From inside the office, a muffled, but gruff sounding voice, commanded. “Come in.”

  Logan pushed the door open and motioned the hangman to go in first.

  The office was large and austere and enshrouded in shadows. The only light came from outside, through the small window at the back of the building. A large block shaped figure filled the window frame, blocking out much of the light. The shape turned to face his visitors, but with the back light behind him, his face was covered in shadow.

  “Judge,” Sheriff Logan said as he removed his hat and ushered Laredo toward the center of the room. “This is Henry Dillard.” Laredo kept his hat on.

  Judge Caine moved away from the window toward them. More light filtered into the room and as the three men came closer, the shadow lifted from the judge’s face. He was a man of about fifty and had a full head of black hair, a broad forehead, and a small gash of a mouth without a curl of softness on either end. His eyes were dark hickory and shined like ice. A flowing black mustache, curled up on the ends, covered his upper lip and his large teeth gleamed white beneath it.

  “Ah, yes. Mister Dillard,” Caine said trying to make his voice sound congenial, but in no way could he hide the arrogance. The voice was deep and commanding. “We’ve been expecting you.” He thrust out his huge paw of a hand.

  Like shaking hands with the Devil, Laredo thought as he took it, trying not to show his apprehension. He merely nodded his greeting.

  “Did you catch those men, Sheriff?” Caine said brusquely, as if ignoring the hangman, now that he had accomplished the introduction.

  “Sorry, sir. They got away. But we did manage to rescue Mister Dillard from them.”

  Caine’s brows pinched together. “Oh? How’s that?”

  “When we came upon Mister Dillard, he had just fought them off. They had tried to steal his horse and had killed his traveling companion.”

  “I thought you said, you rescued Mister Dillard?”

  “Well, in a manner of speaking,” Logan stammered.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Caine said, dismissively. “I know what you’re saying. You just want to make me think you did something, when all you did was let those rascals get away.”

  “But, Judge……” Logan started, but Caine broke in

  “Never mind. We’ll get them another time. There’s no way they are going to escape my gallows forever. I promise you that. Now if you don’t mind, Fred,” he always used the sheriff’s first name when he wanted to show how unimportant he thought the sheriff was. “How about you step outside while I talk to Mister Dillard.” He waved his fingers as if pushing him away.

  Logan turned, his hat still in his hands, and shuffled meekly across the room and out the door. The bell above, tinkled slightly as it closed behind him.

  “So, Mister Dillard,” Judge Caine said, his dark eyes roving up and down the hangman’s frame, sizing him up. “Somehow I pictured you as a much older and bigger man.”

  Ice coursed through Laredo’s veins. The hackles on the back of his neck stood up. Had the judge realized that he was an imposter? Did he in fact know what the real hangman looked like? The Kid found it impossible to find his voice and respond. Luckily, he didn’t have to, for the judge continued on. “From all I’ve heard about you, I thought you must be ten feet tall and as old as Methuselah.” He chuckled, but there was no light in his eyes.

  “Don’t believe everything you hear, Judge.”

  “Why is that? You mean it’s not true?”

  “Depends on what you’ve heard.”

  “I heard that you’ve hanged a hundred men and you do it with flare and style.”

  “And, how many have you sentenced to hang with flare and style,” Laredo said flatly.

  The judge grinned beneath his curled up mustache. “More than you can count, before I’m through. As long as there are sinners breaking the law, I’ll
be sending them to their maker for final judgment and damnation. Don’t tell me you don’t share my dedication.”

  “Never really thought about final judgment and damnation. I just hang ‘em.” The Kid hoped he was sounding like the man the judge expected.

  The judge beamed, though still no light in his eyes. “Seems to me, we’re going to get along just fine, then.”

  The Kid nodded, as if in agreement. The judge continued, “Let me show you the facilities.” He grinned, turned on his big feet, motioning the hangman to follow him, and headed back toward the window. He stepped a little to the right so Laredo could move up close to the glass.

  “Did you ever see such a sight, Mister Dillard?” He waved toward the view. His face beamed with pride.

  Outside, behind the courthouse was another park like area. Not as large as the one at the outskirts of town, but large enough for public gatherings. Obviously, the usual public gathering was for spectators of hangings. At one side of the park, directly facing the courthouse and allowing the judge full view, was a long wooden plank gallows, which had been built to accommodate six hangings at once.

  Hammers and saws echoed across the open area as several men worked diligently at one end of the gallows, building an addition that would allow a seventh hanging. The lumber was new and unpainted, and would probably be painted white to match the rest of the scaffolding.

  “There it is, Mister Dillard. The largest gallows ever built. No one has ever hung seven scoundrels at the same time. Not even Parker. The Hanging Judge, they call him over in Fort Smith. This will be the first seven noose gallows of its kind. And you and I Mister Dillard will make history by being the first ones to make it work. You, Mister Dillard are about to become even more famous than you already are.”

  Laredo had all he could do to choke back his revulsion of the judge’s glee. Too many times he had pictured himself standing on a gallows with a rope around his neck. No matter how much a man deserved hanging, no one should find entertainment or pleasure in watching him die.

  “What do you think of it, Mister Dillard?” Caine rocked up and down on the balls of his feet.

  Laredo really didn’t know what to think. He didn’t want to say anything, but he managed to say, “All seven drop at once or one at a time?” He needed to sound interested.

  “All at once, of course. You can handle that can’t you?”

  “If the mechanism works properly and the structure can take the weight of the fall, all at one time. One man, seven men. Doesn’t seem to make much difference to me.”

  “Good,” Caine said. “The addition should be completed today. Tomorrow, you can see how it works. Right after the parade.”

  Parade? Laredo thought. Is this something he was supposed to already know about. He waited for Caine to offer more.

  “You’ll ride on the first wagon. In front of the elephants and clowns.”

  Elephants? Clowns? A circus parade. And he was going to be a star attraction. Somehow, he was going to have to get himself shucked from this town fast.

  “Take all the bows you want, my friend. Wave to the crowd. It’ll get them more worked up for the coming events.”

  “I…I’m overwhelmed and honored, Sir.” The words had to crawl over the lumps in his throat.

  “Tomorrow’s the first day of our Justice Festival and after the parade, you’ll get to open up the festivities with three hangings in the middle of the afternoon. I think it’ll be more of a teaser, if you drop them one at a time. The spectators can attend the Circus in the evening. We’ll save the seven man hanging for Saturday afternoon. That will be the highlight of the festival. Then everyone can attend the circus again on Saturday night and Sunday during the day. I really would have liked to save the hanging for the end of the festival, but there was opposition to it on a Sunday. Anyways, people can get their psalm singing two days in a row, this way.”

  Laredo forced a chuckle, feigning agreement with the son of a bitch. Then he tried to change the conversation. He had heard enough. “I’ll need to see the..uh..candidates, should we say for this festive occasion. I’ll need to size them up for height and weight, you know. So they can drop properly.” He tried to say it as blasé as possible, with a hint of devilish delight in the prospect.

  “Of course. Of course.” He slapped the hangman on the back turning him toward the doorway. “I’ll have the sheriff take you down to them.”

  “Down?”

  “Yes. With so many of them, we fixed up a special place in the cellar of the courthouse. Easier to contain and guard them here. Good thing too. Those three jaspers you ran into on the trail, were here to break their pards out. I’m sure they expected them to be in the jail, but they weren’t. They were right here under my nose. Anyone try to break any of my prisoners loose, will find themselves swinging from the gallows. And that will suit me just fine.”

  I’m sure it will, Laredo thought to himself. “And hopefully, that translates into more business for me,” he said trying not to choke on his own words.

  “You do a good job for me, Mister Dillard, and I promise you all the business you can handle.”

  “Marvelous,” The Kid said coldly. “Just marvelous.”

  *****

  Chapter Seven