Panhandle by Brett Cogburn

Author:Brett Cogburn
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Westerns, Fiction
ISBN: 9780786030262
Publisher: Pinnacle
Published: 2012-11-06T00:00:00+00:00

We found a grove of big cottonwoods along a dry branch less than a half a day’s ride east of Ft. Sumner. We didn’t even unhitch the team, or loosen our cinches. Without a word from Cap, Martin led the prisoners into the trees. Cap asked for another horse, but nobody wanted to volunteer their mount. I guess none of us liked the thought of a man being hanged from the back of our horse. Cap didn’t volunteer his either, but remained on its back while we all stood around on foot. I guess it wouldn’t have looked right for him to preside over an execution from the ground.

H.B., being of mature years and possibly more used to such occasions, brought his horse forward by the bridle. He looked up at the kid. “Swap horses, Cake.”

Cake got down, but he refused to mount. “You ain’t hanging me. Give me a gun and I’ll fight the lot of you.”

I was beginning to think he had a little sand, but then he started crying. “My father is rich. You just let me go and he’ll make it right.”

The kid’s knees buckled, and H.B. had to catch him and hold him up for a moment. H.B. didn’t seem to know what to do.

Finally, Cap rode forward. “Get on that horse.”

I guess when the kid met Cap’s hard gaze he knew it was over, and he just died right then and there. He climbed right up on the horse and only sniffled a little while his hands were tied behind his back.

Two catch ropes were thrown over two big limbs on the same side of the tree. The prisoners were led under them, and their horses stood nose to tail facing opposite each other. We gathered around while Cap and several of the boys placed the loops over the bandits’ necks. I don’t know how they managed it. I could have shot the thieves in pursuit, or in a fight, but for some reason hanging them was different. It was justified, but easier said than done.

I stood holding one bridle and Billy the other. Cap stepped back and looked up to the kid. “Have you got anything to say?”

We all thought the kid would break down again, but instead, he spoke in a tight, controlled voice. “Don’t tell my father what happened to me. Bury my belongings here with me and let him think what he will. What he can imagine is bound to be better than the truth.”

Cap waited him out and then turned to the other man. “What about you?”

Lem looked each and every one of us in the eye like a preacher in the pulpit looking back at his congregation. “I’ve shot buffalo when there were so many you couldn’t see where they began or ended. I’ve found water where there wasn’t any, and the worst of it was plenty good. I remember when it was nigh a week’s travel to the settlements, and the Indians were thick as flies and bound to take your hair.

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