The Adventures of Henry Turnbuc by Francis M Nevins Jr Martin H G

Author:Francis M Nevins Jr, Martin H G [Francis M Nevins Jr, Martin H G]
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

The Hanging Tree

Captain Robertson had sent Ralph and me to Green Bay to quiz a likely murder suspect in custody there; however, our trip proved unprofitable.

Rather than take the monotonous intrastate highway for our return journey, we consulted our map and elected to drive the scenic back roads.

Late in the afternoon, as we were traveling through a forest corridor, our motor began losing power and then stopped entirely.

Ralph let the car coast onto the shoulder of the road, where he tried to restart it. The motor turned over, but refused to catch.

After a while, we got out of the car, raised the hood, and studied the motor.

“What are we looking for, Ralph?”

He rubbed his neck. “Damned if I know. I took woodworking in high school.”

We poked and pressed various things and then got hopefully back into the car. It still refused to start.

Ralph gave up. “We’re running down the battery. We’ll just have to sit here until somebody gives one of us a lift to the nearest garage.”

We waited more than an hour, but not a single car passed, either coming or going. It was beginning to get dark.

“Ralph,” I said, “I just noticed a driveway about a hundred yards ahead. Maybe there’s a house at the end of it and we can get to use a phone.”

Ralph put the glove-compartment flashlight into his pocket and we got out of the car—and found that the driveway was actually a rather narrow country road.

I peered into the distance. “There seems to be a hamlet of sorts ahead.”

After five minutes of walking, we reached the first building.

“By Jove,” I said, “that’s a one-room schoolhouse! I didn’t think there were any still in operation in this state.”

Ralph regarded it without undue interest. “I don’t think this one is either. The windows are black with dirt.”

I yielded. “Perhaps you’re right. However, that does present us with an anomaly. The schoolhouse appears to be unused and yet there is not one blade of grass in the school yard, which indicates heavy traffic.”

“The kids are probably bused to school somewhere else,” Ralph said. “But that doesn’t mean they don’t still use the school yard as a playground when they come back.” Then he frowned. “What the hell is that?”

“What the hell is what?”

He pointed to a thick rope dangling from the limb of a huge oak tree, its end featuring a rather impressive hangman’s noose.

“There must be some logical explanation,” I said. “We’ll have to remember to ask.”

We continued walking. A number of the buildings in the hamlet appeared to be deserted and falling into ruin. Occasionally we saw a dim light behind the curtains in some of the windows.

Ralph had been looking at the roofs. “Not one TV antenna in the town.”

“It probably has cable TV.”

At the end of the street, as though welcoming us, stood a fair-sized two-story structure that appeared to be an inn.

Ralph still looked about as we talked. “Where are the people? The kids who trample the grass in the yard

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