T.W. looked at Goodstead and the deputy and said, “Let’s ride out.”
Kenneth swung himself onto his mare; the moment he was mounted, Goodstead snapped his reins and led the way. T.W. took the tether to Oswell’s horse and rode alongside him, behind the lawmen.
Several people yelled out obscenities, a handful threw vegetables and a few others anonymously discharged their guns into the air to scare the prisoner (which never even caused the man to blink), but the ride to the southwestern edge of town occurred without serious incident. Most townsfolk silently watched the quartet pass by from their porches or through their windows.
They rode past James’s house toward the unsettled hills.
“What happened to Lingham’s coydogs?” Oswell asked T.W.
“Beatrice tried to take them in, but they kept running back here. I suppose they’re wild now.”
The horses climbed a low hill; the wet grass squeaked like mice beneath the beasts’ hooves.
In a quiet voice, Oswell inquired, “Mayor Jeffries?”
“Yes?”
“Did my wife get the letter?”
“She did. I confirmed it with a telegram.”
“Did she wire anything back, or ask for my body?”
“No.”
Oswell nodded his head, but said nothing; T.W. found it hard to look at him.
The horses descended the rise; the mayor and the rancher leaned forward as if a hand pressed upon their backs; hooves squeaked.
“Thank you for checking,” Oswell said.
“You’re welcome.”
The horses continued forward; a leafless oak tree with three perpendicular branches rose from the earth ahead of them. Sheriff Goodstead withdrew a noose from his saddlebag, snapped his reins and galloped ahead.
Oswell asked, “Would you send me where you sent my brother’s remains?”
“Pineville?”
“Yeah.”
“I will.”
The horses climbed another hill; T.W. and Oswell were pushed back in their saddles by the invisible hand. Ahead of them, Goodstead threw the noose over the highest branch of the black tree and wrapped the tether around its trunk.
T.W. and Oswell tipped forward as their horses descended the hill.
The mayor looked at the prisoner and said, “Thank you. For catching her. For saving her.”
Oswell nodded.
The horses climbed the final hill; upon the azure canvas of the western horizon jutted the leafless black tree and the noose. The two men watched the loop grow larger and larger as they rode toward it; three distant trees, a mountaintop and an entire cloud were ensnared within its perimeter.
T.W. led Oswell’s horse beneath the branch. Kenneth John jumped off of his stallion and unlocked the prisoner’s manacles. Oswell put his arms behind his back; the deputy refastened the cuffs. Goodstead cantered his beast alongside the rancher, slid the noose over the man’s head, past his ears, down his cheeks (where it crackled against his beard) and around his neck. The Texan tightened the loop.
“Back away,” T.W. said to the lawmen.
Kenneth John swung atop his stallion; he and Goodstead rode down the hill and up the adjacent rise.
T.W. slapped the hindquarters of the white steed upon which Oswell sat. The horse bolted forward with a whinny; the rancher was yanked from the saddle. The noose cracked his neck; he swung backward and then forward, his face bright red with agony. He made no noise.
The mayor looked away from the asphyxiation. Deputy Kenneth John and Sheriff Goodstead watched. The creaking of the tree branch behind T.W. slowed and then stopped.
“Ship him to Pineville,” the mayor said to the lawmen.
“We will,” Goodstead replied.
Mayor Theodore William Jeffries wiped tears from his eyes, snapped his reins and rode directly at the glaring sun. For the duration of one heartbeat, his long shadow was a shroud upon Oswell Danford’s body.
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Table of Contents
Cover
Title
Dedication
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter Thirty-six
Chapter Thirty-seven
Chapter Thirty-eight
Chapter Thirty-nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-one
Chapter Forty-two
A Congregation of Jackals Page 29