The prosecutor frowned. He was a tall, skinny man. "Mort, you should have had Slim out on that street thirty minutes ago."
Mort replied, "His breakfast came late."
Slim’s tray of food sat on the floor untouched.
"You’re hoping Jess Harper will arrive."
"What if I am? I told you that Jess sent a telegram that he was on his way."
"We can’t postpone this hanging because Slim’s friend is not here. Probably it’s better if Harper doesn’t get here in time. No telling what he would do to try to save Slim."
"Surely we can wait five more minutes," Bret Carlin pleaded.
"For what reason?" the prosecutor challenged. "It’s not going to make a bit of difference if Harper shows. He telegraphed that he had killed Bonnor. We all know without Bonnor’s testimony, Slim has no hope of being found innocent."
"Why Jess had to go and kill him," Mort’s anger was heard in each word.
"Now the judge ordered that Slim be hung at sunrise. We’re already late. Mort, do your duty."
The sheriff didn’t move. He just sat at his desk, sipping his coffee. The deputy stirred restlessly.
"Mort, it’s time," the prosecutor stated.
"I’m not taking Slim to the gallows." Mort took another huge sip of coffee.
The prosecutor’s face flashed red with anger. "It’s your job!"
"Don’t tell me my job!" Mort snapped back. "My job isn’t to hang a friend. ‘Cause if it is, then I don’t want the job. You can have it!"
"If you disobey an order by a judge, then I’ll hold you in contempt..."
"And don’t threaten me with legal talk either," Mort barked. "I’ve made up my mind!"
"If you’re refusing..."
"He’ll get hung! But not by me having anything to do with it!" Mort glanced down at his coffee as if unable to look at Slim. "That’s why I got Gandy to be deputy today. He’ll escort Slim. I know enough about the law to know that it don’t have to be me."
"You ain’t walking me?" Slim turned towards Mort.
"I can’t."
"Mort, I’d rather have a friend walk with me to the gallows. It’ll give me courage having you by my side."
Mort’s eyes were misty as he looked at the tall cowboy. "Slim, I knew your Pa. He was my friend. You’re my friend too."
"That’s why I need you there beside me."
Mort closed his eyes for a long moment. "All right. If that would help you. But I’m not sleeping at night as it is."
"Then it’s settled. Let’s go," the prosecutor ordered.
"You’re in an awful big hurry to see a man die," Mort criticized.
The prosecutor neared the cell. "For what it’s worth, I don’t like this business either. And I guess I am pushing to get it over with. Slim, this isn’t anything personal. But there’s a group of men across the street who’ve been drinking all night long and betting that Mort won’t carry out his duty because of your friendship. This trial has this town torn apart.
If Harper shows, there could be gun play. I don’t want to see this town explode and people get hurt. I wish to God if you killed someone it had been a man and not a woman. You might have gotten off. At least people wouldn’t have been so angry."
"You still don’t think I’m innocent," Slim barked.
"I can only go by the evidence," the prosecutor replied. "I did my job. But I hated it was you." He turned away and faced the sheriff. "Mort, if we don’t leave, then there’s going to be a mob at your door, wanting to escort Slim themselves."
Mort looked out the window. There were at least ten men gathered across the street. Mort grabbed his shotgun. He checked to make sure the gun was loaded. "Let’s go." He opened the cell. His eyes dodged Slim’s.
"You better tie his hands."
"He ain’t going to run," Mort argued.
The prosecutor said softly, "It’d be better for Slim if his hands are tied. That way those men out there will know that he can’t get away."
"With me carrying a shotgun and my deputy holding a rifle..."
"Tie my hands," Slim requested. "I don’t want trouble breaking out because of this. This will be hard enough on Andy and Jonesy as it is."
Mort nodded to the deputy.
"Sorry, Slim," the young man mumbled.
"Easy, not too tight," Mort instructed. "All right, satisfied?"
The prosecutor nodded.
Slim was escorted down the street by the two men and his lawyer. The prosecutor made his way by himself to stand near the front of the gallows.
Slim kept his eyes looking straight ahead. He refused to meet anyone’s stare. Still he noticed that it was a large crowd.
Slim said, "Well it looks like the entire town turned out."
"They usually do, " Mort mumbled.
Slim hesitated before climbing the steps to where the hangman stood. With each step he took, sweat began to form on his face. A tiny bead ran down the back of his neck. At the top of the stairs, he stopped.
"You’re doing good, Slim," Mort whispered.
Slim moved to stand on the trapdoor. The rope hung in front of him. As Slim came face to face with the rope, a shiver sped through his body. Mort grabbed his arm.
"Easy," the sheriff whispered. "I’m right here."
Slim swallowed hard but the lump in his throat wouldn’t go away.
For the first time, Slim looked at the crowd. He saw both neighbors and friends. One girl was crying.
Another was wiping her eyes. Still another refused to look.
A chill swept through Slim’s body as the hangman slid the rope around Slim’s neck. Slim felt the rope tighten. He swallowed then coughed. He stood straight, staring at nothing. For a split second he spotted Mose in the crowd. Mose gave Slim a reassuring nod then turned his back.
"You got anything to say?" Mort asked, his own voice shaking.
"I’m innocent," Slim said, his voice cracking.
Mort nodded. He squeezed Slim’s shoulder with reassurance before stepping away. Mort looked down at the platform, avoiding watching what was taking place.
Another tremble overtook Slim’s body. He bit his lip to stop himself from crying out with fear.
The hangman grabbed the level to open the platform. "May God have mercy on your Soul." The hangman pulled the level and the floor under Slim’s feet dropped.
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
As the rope started to tighten around Slim’s neck, two gunshots rang out. The bullets sliced the rope, splitting it in two. Slim fell several feet to the ground. Lying on the ground, he began coughing violently. He rolled over, then managed to get up as far as his knees.
Several men drew their guns including Mort and his deputy.
Jess threw his rifle on the ground then rode down the street with his hands held high in the air.
"I got proof that Slim is innocent," Jess called out as he stopped his horse on the edge of the crowd. Jess’ hat and shirt had perspiration rings. His hair was soaked in sweat. He was so tired that he leaned on the saddle horn for support.
Mort climbed down from the gallows. As he helped Slim to his feet, he called out,. "Someone get him some water...Now!"
The prosecutor raced to Mort. "We don’t want gun play. We got women and children in this crowd. If we stop this hanging, then there’s bound to be..."
"I’m going to listen to Jess." Determination was heard in each word that Mort spoke. "If he’s got evidence that Slim is innocent, then we’re not going to have a hanging today."
"Mort, you’re just delaying the inevitable. The judge already sentenced..."
"You want to hang an innocent man?" Mort snapped. "You that ambitious?"
"It’s your duty!"
"My duty is to make sure a guilty man hangs. Not an innocent one! I want to hear what Jess has to say. And if you try to stop me, well Mr. Prosecutor, I’ll arrest you, put you in jail, and throw away the key. That’s a promise!"
"All right, Mort. We’ll do it your way... for now. I’ll listen to what Harper has to say." The prosecutor nodded towards the sheriff’s office. "We better get Slim in there before this crowd gets out of hand. And I want Harper disarmed before we sit down to listen to him! And check his boots for a knife and gun. And Mort?" The prosecutor’s eyes were cold with anger. "I’m making you a promise. If this is a ploy by Slim’s friend, I’ll put Harper in jail and hang Slim myself!"
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
A crowd of men followed as Slim was lead to the sheriff’s office. Mort left his deputy outside the door to watch the mob.
"Anyone tried to get in here, he’ll shoot," Mort warned the crowd before entering the office.
"You cut it kind of close," Mort greeted.
Jess gave a nod. "Can someone take care of my horse? He’s in bad shape. I pushed him too hard."
Mort opened the door and gave an order. The blacksmith stepped forward and retrieved Jess’ horse.
Mort slammed the door shut. He handed Jess a cup of coffee. "Looks like you pushed yourself hard too."
"Let’s get on with it," the prosecutor announced. "We got a hanging to get to."
"Sorry to disappoint you but..." Jess tossed the ring on the table. "Here’s the deposition from the blacksmith in Canyon City that he bought this ring from Bonnor."
"How does this prove Slim is innocent?" the prosecutor asked with the same tone that he used to question witnesses in a courtroom.
Slim explained, "That’s my Ma’s ring. I gave it to Margaret."
"Do you have any witnesses?"
"You bet he does! Me for one!" Jess snapped with the last of his energy.
"Somehow your testimony doesn’t carry much weight with me," the prosecutor said.
If Jess hadn’t been so tired, he probably would have darted off that chair. But all he could manage was a look that would have chilled even the bravest of men. The prosecutor moved closer to Mort as Jess said, "Then ask Mort and Frankie. They’ll testify that Slim had that ring in his pocket when he and her left for Laramie the day she died."
"Still..." the prosecutor began.
Jess pulled more papers out of his pocket. He handed these documents to Mort, who in turn handed them to the prosecutor, who by now had put a good distance between himself and Jess.
Jess said, "That’s the sheriff’s deposition that the man who sold that ring was Frank Bonnor. He’s still got a cousin in Canyon City who identified him. And the wanted poster matched his description. And if that ain’t enough, here’s a copy of a telegram that Bonnor sent to her sister in St Louis explaining how she died accidentally from a fall from a buggy. Seems her sister was taking care of their child. He wanted her to know that he wouldn’t be laying claim on the child but he’d send money from time to time."
"According to Slim’s story, she fell because Bonnor slapped her," the prosecutor said.
"You reckon he would admit to that in a telegram?" Jess snarled.
"I suppose not."
"That telegram shows Frank was there when she died," Jess argued. "And there’s two more depositions from two saloon girls..."
"Saloon girls!" the prosecutor mocked. "You expect me to believe..."
"Bonnor talked freely when he was with them. Told them each that he had lost his wife and how she died accidentally."
"Was he drunk at the time?" the prosecutor asked. "Maybe the drink..."
Jess cut in, "You got enough evidence there that should get Slim another trial..."
"Jess is right," Mort agreed. "There is enough evidence to postpone the hanging and reopen the trial."
The prosecutor frowned. "I don’t know..."
"If I had this evidence before the trial, I’d have never charged Slim with murder...and you wouldn’t have either," Mort argued. "No jury would convict Slim with this kind of evidence. Why don’t you admit you were wrong to charge Slim with murder? You don’t want an innocent man hanging."
"Let me read these!" the prosecutor said. He moved to Mort’s desk. He read each document several times. He then reread each one several more times. "I saw Mose in the crowd. I want to talk to Mose. And Frankie if he’s around..."
Within minutes, Mose was standing inside the sheriff’s office. "Frankie’s on a run to Medicine Bow," Mose explained.
"You saw the ring that Slim gave Margaret?" The prosecutor stood in front of Mose as if he was standing in front of the witness chair in the courtroom. His eyes were locked on Mose’s face but he spoke as if addressing the entire room.
"Yes sir." Mose turned towards Jess. "I knew you’d get back in time. I told Slim that you would. You done good, boy."
"Mose, pay attention," the prosecutor ordered.
Mose turned quickly to face the prosecutor. "I’m listening to you!"
"Is this the ring?"
Mose brought the ring close to his face. He turned the ring over as he studied it. "Sure is."
"You sure?"
"Sure, I’m sure!" Mose barked. "I got good eyesight. I can see a bug on a leaf fifty feet away."
He winked at Slim.
"You say Frankie is on a run. When will he be back?"
"You saying I’m lying?" Mose face wrinkled even more with anger.
"No. But you are a good friend of Slim’s."
"I’m no liar!" Mose argued. "I told the truth in court didn’t I? Even if my testify hurt Slim, I still told the truth."
The prosecutor said to Mort, "I’m not agreeing this is the ring that she wore the day she died until I talk to Frankie..."
"He’ll tell you the same as I did," Mose said with a nod.
"How can you be so sure, Mose? One gold ring looks like another," the prosecutor said. "How do I know that Harper didn’t buy this ring..."
"How about the depositions?" Jess snarled. "Wire the sheriff if you don’t believe me! He’ll stand by my story."
"Easy, Jess," Slim cooed.
Jess leaned back in the chair.
The prosecutor said, "We’ll post pone the hanging until Frankie returns. And as soon as I talk to Frankie, then I’ll decide..."
"That ring have letters in it?" Mose asked.
"Letters?" the prosecutor repeated.
"Inside the band. I noticed them right off when I picked the ring up. It had MS. I reckon that stands for Matt Sherman. Was that your Ma’s ring, Slim?"
"Sure was, Mose."
The prosecutor brought the ring close to his face. He squinted. He moved to the window and held it so the light shone directly on it. He twirled the ring as he tried to see the letters. "Well I’ll be! There are some letters. Worn out. But I can make them out as M.S."
"I told you I can see a bug on a leaf fifty feet away," Mose bragged. "But it looks like you could use some glasses, young fellow."
The prosecutor frowned at Mose’s remark. "I can see just fine."
"Mose’s not the only one that can testify about that ring. Now that I think back, I remember Slim’s Pa telling me that ring cost a pretty penny. If I remember right, he had to sell three cows to get that ring. That’s why he only had two letters engraved. Couldn’t afford more. He put his initials so she’d never forget who loved her. I’ll testify myself to that being Slim’s Ma’s ring." Mort crossed his arms over his chest. "Well is that enough proof for you?"
The prosecutor looked from anxious face to anxious face. He gave a slow nod. "More than enough. I think all of this warrants a new trial. I’ll wire the judge right away."
"He ain’t going to be happy coming back," Mort said.
"As long as justice is done, I don’t care how put out the judge is," the prosecutor replied. "And Slim, I got a good notion, a new trial will prove you’re innocent. That her death was a result of an accident caused by Frank Bonnor. At least as prosecutor, that’s how I’m presenting this new evidence to the judge when I asked him for a new. No hard feelings, I hope? I was only doing my job."
Slim gently touched the rope burn on his neck. "I guess not."
"Well since we’re all in agreement, what do you say we let Slim go home?" Mort said.
"That’s highly irregular," the prosecutor replied.
"Maybe...but I’d sure hate to keep an innocent man in jail any longer. ‘Sides that rope burn is gong to need looking after. And I think Jonesy is just the man to tend to Slim."
"I don’t know, Mort," the prosecutor said.
"I’m tired of sleeping here at night. Much rather be at home in my own bed than playing nurse maid to a man who shouldn’t be in jail in the first place!" Mort snapped.
The prosecutor smiled. "Mort, you should have been a lawyer. You make a convincing argument.
"You got my word that Slim will be back when you hold a new trial," Mort added.
"Come on! Let Slim out!" Mose echoed the plea. "I’m tired of helping out with them stage horses.
Been missing Jonesy’s cooking ‘cause I can’t take time to eat. And fellow’s got to keep up h is strength."
The prosecutor burst out laughing. "Well I’d hate for you to waste away to nothing, Mose. All right. I’ll agree to Slim staying at his ranch until another trial can be scheduled." His voice suddenly had an edge of warning, "But Slim, don’t you leave the ranch until we get all this straightened out."
"I’m not stepping a foot off the ranch," Slim promised. "Never thought I’d get to see it again. So I ain’t hankerin’ to leave it any time soon. Come on, Jess, let’s go home."
Jess didn’t move.
"Jess..."
"He’s asleep," the prosecutor said with surprise.
A small snore escaped from Jess’ lips.
Mort smiled. "He’s plum worn out. He must have lived in the saddle since he left Laramie looking for Bonnor."
"I’d say that’s a good friend," Mose added. "Wouldn’t you say the same, Slim?"
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
As the stage pulled away from the relay station, Slim made his way to the well. He lifted the bucket and gulped the water. A small stream ran down his neck and wet his shirt.
"You going to drink that well dry," Jess joked as he watched Slim move from the well back to the porch.
"My throat still feels sore," Slim said in a hoarse voice.
"Reckon it will be for some time. I know mine was when they tried to string me up."
Slim’s eyes opened wide with surprise. "You came that close?"
Jess nodded. "And never been more scared. in my life. I thought surely I’d dine with that devil that day." Jess left the porch, moving to his horse. He tied his bedroll on the back of his horse.
"Going somewhere?"
Jess looked surprised. "I thought you’d want me to ride out."
"I never said that."
"Not in so many words but..."
Slim moved to stand beside Jess. He glanced at the house. "I never thought I’d see this place again. I got to missing things I do every day that I never gave a thought to before I was locked up. I almost lost everything. If it hadn’t been for you..."
"You owe me nothing." Jess said in a gruffer tone than he meant. "I’m the one in your debt. For giving me a job with my reputation. You didn’t have to bank on me but you did."
Embarrassment married Slim’s face. "Jess, Margaret made a fool out of me."
"Slim, you ain’t alone. Even after she hurt me that itch was still there. No denying that. So if anyone’s the fool, well you’re looking at him. And I reckon we ain’t alone. She left a long trail of men acting like fools."
"Well I don’t aim to be a fool again. And I figure if I let you ride out of here, then I’d be the biggest fool in Wyoming." Slim’s hoarse voice trailed off as he began to cough.
Jess handed him the bucket of water as Slim sat down on the steps of the porch. Slim drained the bucket, then wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "Thanks."
Jess gave a short nod as he sat down next to Slim.
"You staying?" Slim asked.
"Take awhile for you to get back to normal. I’ll stay on for awhile to help you with the chores and ranching. That barn needs white washing. There’s some shingles on the house that needs replacing.
And I reckon you’re going want some horses caught and broke to pay for the winter hay."
"Jess, all that work could take a long while."
Jess glanced at Slim. "It will take a long while....if I’m lucky."
A slow grin broke out on Slim’s face. He slapped Jess on the back with brotherly affection.
"I been meaning to ask you..." Jess chewed on his lip.
"Ask me what?"
Jess looked away. He said softly as if scared to say the words, "Slim, how come you believed me and not Margaret?"
"You mean when she said that you wanted her to leave with you?"
Jess nodded. "You believed right off that I didn’t want her to leave with me."
"Well that ain’t hard to figure out why I wasn’t worried about her leaving with you."
"It ain’t?"
"No. What girl in her right mind would leave me for you? I knew I was safe even if you had made a play for her. ‘Sides who’d want a girl dumb enough to leave me for you."
For a long moment, Jess was thoughtful. Suddenly he looked as if he had been hit with a rock. "Wait a minute! Slim!"
Slim’s laughter was heard as he raced inside the house with Jess close on his heels.
Inside, Slim stopped. "Where are you two going?"
Andy picked up the fishing pole. "Fishing."
"What about lunch?" Jess asked.
"Well Andy and me figured that we both needed a day off. What with Jess gallivanting all over the territory..."
"Gallivanting!" Jess shouted.
"And you," Jonesy pointed at Slim, "sitting around doing nothing all day but playing checkers with Mort and eating fried chicken. I’ll have you know that you ate some of our best hens!"
"Jonesy! You sound like it was a vacation!" Slim’s face reddened with anger.
"Me and Andy did all the work around here. So it’s time you two did your fair share."
Andy handed Jonesy a fishing pole. "‘Sides, Jonesy is going to tell me about women."
"Jonesy?" Jess mocked.
"That’s right! I’m going to give Andy my expert advice about women." A look of confidence molded Jonesy’s face.
Jess burst out laughing. He laughed so hard that he bent over. Slim tried not to smile but finally he too joined in the laughter.
Jonesy’s frown grew larger as the laughter grew louder. "And what’s so funny about me talking to Andy about women?"
Slim said, "Jonesy, maybe I better explain to Andy..."
"You don’t see me having women trouble like you two have," Jonesy fired off. "Slim, you almost got hung because of a woman! And Jess, what about that married woman that you took off with to Tumavaca! You got yourself shot. If Slim hadn’t come down and brought you back, no telling what would have happened to you. And then there was the time..."
"All right, Jonesy! We get your point," Slim said quickly as he sobered.
Jonesy added, "We sure don’t need someone else around here having women trouble, like you two have. Come on, Andy. Them fish are biting. We’ll talk while we fish."
Slim said nothing until the door shut. He growled, "He knows women!"
Jess snarled, "You ever hear anything so foolish?"
Slim glanced at Jess. Jess glanced back at Slim.
"You know, Jess, it wouldn’t hurt to listen to what Jonesy has to say."
"You know I was thinking the same thing. Well don’t just stand there, let’s catch up to ‘em. I don’t want to miss out on what he tells Andy."
As they raced through the door, they skidded to a halt. Jonesy and Andy stood on the porch.
"What kept you so long?" Jonesy greeted as he handed each a fishing pole. "Guess I don’t only know women. I know you two both good too."
Jess burst out laughing. Slim joined in. Andy too grinned broadly.
And that day, the four spent hours at their favorite fishing hole, once more enjoying being a family.
