Authors: Robert J. Conley
I looked at the clock on my wall, and I couldn't read it for it being so blurry. “What time is it?” I ast.
Happy said, “It's ten thirty.” Then it come to me. I hadn't been paying no attention to it on account a' all the trouble we'd been having, but today was of a sudden the day the judge was supposed to be a-hitting town.
“Happy,” I said, “wake Owl Shit up. The judge is coming in today. We got to have Owl Shit ready for court. And don't throw no water on him. He ain't got a change a' clothes here.”
“Yes, sir,” Happy said, and he unlocked the cell door and went inside to wake up Owl Shit, and it tuck him some time to do it too. “What's the matter here?” he said. “You ain't woke me up like this here before.”
“Owl Shit,” I said, “I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but today is your court day. The judge is a-coming into town today.”
He set up a-looking real sober. His back was straight and his face was serious. “Couldn't someone ride out to the ranch house and get me a clean shirt?” he said.
“Owl Shit,” I said, “we burnt your house to the
ground. You ain't got a clean shirt.” I thunk for a minute, and then I said, “Happy, run over to the gen'ral store and have ole Suder come over here.”
Happy run and got Suder, and when Suder come into the office I had him take a good look at Owl Shit, and I said, “He's got to go to court today, Suder. Can you go back over to your store and pick him out some good clothes?”
“Yes, sir,” he said, and he went to studying on ole Owl Shit. Then I sent for a barber, and whenever we got all through, Owl Shit looked like as if he were a-going to teach a Sunday school class. He was damn near pretty. He were almost a-feared to set down for fear a' wrinkling his new britches. Course, I charged ever'thing to Peester's office, knowing that I'd hear about it later from him, the pettifogging bastard.
“Barjack?” said Happy. He were standing at the front winder.
“What?” I said.
“Who's that a-coming into town?”
I went over to have a look. It were a skinny old man a-riding on a mule. He was a-wearing a black suit and a stovepipe hat, and he had a full beard all over his face. “That there's the judge,” I said. He were riding straight toward my office too.
Well, we filled that scraggy ole judge in on ever'thing what had done happened regarding Owl Shit and Chugwater, and he kinda shuck his head and grumbled. He said, “That ain't the way we likes to have things done around here, but I reckon it just couldn'ta been helped. This, uh, Chugwater, is he still a-running loose?”
“Yes, he is, Your Honor,” I said, “we been a-chasing him, but he just seems to 'a' disappeared. Can't find him nowheres.”
“You'll have to keep after him until you catch or kill him,” the judge said. “It's too bad we can't have him and his brother on trial at the same time.”
“Yes, sir,” I said.
“How many deputies do you have, Barjack?”
“I have two reg'lar depitties,” I said. “In rare cases like this one here we been a-talking about, I can raise up a few more special depitties. I had five extries on this Chugwater case, but I've done let them go on account a' we ain't even seed Chugwater now for some time.”
“What about the county sheriff?”
“I went to him for help, but he just downright refused me,” I told him.
“Hmm. I'll have a talk with him about that. Well, we'll have the trial right away, say, ten o'clock in the morning.”
And we did too, and it were brief. I was the main witness against ole Owl Shit being as how he had shot that man down right smack in front a' me, and I told the tale just how it happened too. I was a little bit sad to have to do that, on account a' I had growed some fond a' that worthless shit, Owl Shit, and I was a-going to be the main reason a' his neck stretching, but I done my duty, and I tole the tale. There was a few more witnesses what had saw the thing happen, and they tole it their way too. Owl Shit didn't have no lawyer, but it wouldn'ta done him no good if he had. Whenever the judge asked him if he had anything to say for hisself, he stood up in his shackles and coughed. Then he looked right at the judge, and he said, “I didn't think I was doing no one no harm when I shot that man. Hell, he was a stranger around here. No one knowed him, so the way I see it is that there wasn't no one around here what had the right to file no complaint on me. This here case had ought to be dismissed. That's how I see it.”
Course the judge didn't see it thattaway. He sentenced Owl Shit to be hanged out to dry. Owl Shit jumped up and yelled, “I won't never hang. My brother will be back, and he'll kill ever' one a' you bastards.”
The judge found Owl Shit guilty a' contempt a'
court, but it didn't seem to me that there was no use in that. Owl Shit didn't have no money, and he was going to hang up anyhow, so what the hell? I damn near put my hand in my pocket to find enough cash to pay the fine, but I never. We tuck Owl Shit back to the jail cell and locked him up to wait for his hanging time. He sulked the whole time. I went and got drunk that night, and the judge went on toward the county seat. I tried to imagine the scene with the ole judge a-chewing out ole Dick Cody for refusing to give me a hand against ole Chugwater. It made me chuckle to think about it.
We went and had a actual gallows built up in Asininity. We had never did that before. We hadn't had no need for it in quite a spell, and way back when we did have a need, we had just used a overhanging beam somewheres on the roof overhang over the boardwalk or else a tree branch when we could find one. But we hired a goddamn good carpenter, ole Billy by Damn, well, his real name was Billy Burton, but we all just always called him Billy by Damn, and he was a hell of a good carpenter. He put up a damn fine gallows too. I was just about sad that we would have to tear it down. I wisht we had some more to string up along with Owl Shit. It just seemed like to me a crying shame to have such a fine thing constructed by a fine craftsman like Billy by Damn, and then to not keep it around. Billy, he didn't mind, though, on account a' he was going to be paid to build the thing, and he was going to get the joy a' watching his creation in use, and he was a-going to get paid again for tearing it
down. On top a' that, he was going to be able to keep all the material too and reuse it however he might want to, all the lumber, the nails, hell, even the rope.
I decided that ole Billy had ought to make even more money, so I ast him if he would like to pull the handle to spring the trapdoor when the day come, and he grinned real big and said, “Yes, by damn, I surely would.” So we agreed how much I would pay him for that little job. Actual, it would be Peester who would pay him, not me.
Well, Owl Shit had to set in his cell and listen to Billy by Damn a-pounding nails and sawing boards all day long ever' day a-knowing that what was going up was the scaffold which he would climb up onto to be swung out to the end a' his rotten life. It come to me that it was a gruesome practice which we in law enforcement was a-practicing. I decided that if it was left up to me, what I would do would be to sentence them to death and then take them out in the street and shoot them dead right then and there and be quick about it.
Well, the day and the time final come, and Billy by Damn was outside a-sanding on the gibbet. I checked the time, and I sent a rider out for Churkee, Polly, and Butcher. When they final arrived in from the ranch, I said, “That's it. This job has got to be did. It's time for the hanging.” He stopped his sanding and run inside, where he washed his face and hands in the bowl in the back room. Then he put on a tie and a coat and a derby hat. He looked kinda silly, I thunk, but he
were just a-trying to be in the right spirit for the occasion.
Well, I pulled on my black coat and hat, and even ole Happy and ole Butcher, they done the same. We was a somber-looking bunch, I can tell you. We went into the cell and handcuffed Owl Shit's hands behint his back, and then I went to doing a solemn march out to the gibbet. Butcher and Happy, one on each side a' him, marched Owl Shit along behint me. Billy by Damn come along last. We didn't have no preacher on account a' Owl Shit had done run him off, calling him all kinda foul names as he was a-running away.
I walked up the stairs, and my depitties with the condemned man come right behint me. Billy dropped off below and went to the death handle. He stood there a-looking real by damn proud a' hisself. Happy and Butcher placed Owl Shit right on the trapdoor, and I stepped up behint him. I read the death warrant out loud so ever'one in the crowd what had gathered up in the street to gawk could hear it, and then I ast Owl Shit if he wanted to say any last words. “Just hang my ass,” he said.
“Do you want a hood?” I ast him.
“Hell, no,” he said. “I want to look ever'one in the eye what's a-looking at me.”
“Have it your way,” I said, and I fitted the noose down over his head and around his neck, snugging the knot down tight just behint his left ear. Then I walked to the front a' the platform in order for Billy by Damn to be able to see me whenever I motioned to him to pull the handle. But I reckon
that he had forgot his instructions, on account a' as soon as he seed me step to the front, he pulled the damn thing. The trapdoor dropped. The noise startled me, and I looked around real quicklike just in time to see Owl Shit's head disappear down the hole and the rope go tight, and I think I even heared a loud cracking sound what was likely Owl Shit's neck a-snapping. A big gasp went through the crowd. Some women hid their faces like they would ruther not have saw the scene, but then, why was they there?
I motioned Happy and Butcher to go on down, and then I started down. It were prob'ly a strange time for it, but I was a-thinking about what a hell of a fine job Billy had did on the building a' that platform. It were solid. Not a board squeaked whenever I walked on it and down the stairs. I looked underneath whenever I got down to the street again, and I seed Owl Shit's carcass a-swinging gently in the breeze. He looked dead, for damn sure. I ain't said nothing about it yet, but all the time I was looking over the crowd and even the whole street a-watching out for Chugwater. I never seed nothing of him.
I walked straight down to the Hooch House. Along the way, Bonnie caught up with me and tuck me by my right arm. She had been in the crowd a-watching. “You done good, sweetie,” she said.
“It ain't a job I'm proud of,” I said.
We went on inside and set down at my private table in my own private chairs, and Aubrey seen us coming and brung our drinks right fast. I can't recall a time when I felt so much like I was in
need of a glass a' good whiskey. I gulped it right down, and he brung me another one. Dingle come in a-scribbling as he walked. He bumped right smack into a great big workingman a' some kind. Lucky for Dingle the man din't have no bad temper. He just tuck Dingle by the upper arms and lifted him up into the air, moved him over and set him down again. Then he went on his way, and Dingle, still a-scribbling, come on back to my table and set his ass down. Sly came in, and right after him, both my depitties. Churkee and Polly final come around and the gang was complete. It was quiet, though. Sly final said something.
“Barjack,” he said, “do you think that, now that Owl Shit is dead, Chugwater will stop?”
“It seems like he done has,” I said.
“I know that his main reason was to try to save his brother,” Sly said, “but my question is now that reason is gone, will he quit, or will he go on to seek revenge?”
“I don't know the man that good, Widdamaker,” I said. “I wisht I did.”
“I think I seen ever'body except Chugwater at the hanging,” Happy said.
“I wonder if I'd get a big crowd like that at my hanging,” said Butcher.
“You planning to hang, Butcher?” Happy said.
“No, I ain't, but I mean, if ever'one knew I was going to die, would so many show up to watch me do it?”
Aubrey come over to serve ever'one drinks, and he brung me a third. I looked over at Churkee. “How's things out at the ranch?” I ast him.
“We haven't had any more trouble, Barjack. The fence is still down, but we've mixed all the cattle together and we're using Chugwater's pasture for them. I think we'll need to hire a couple a' men at least.”
“Go on ahead and hire them,” I said.
“Okay.”
Peester come in, and he come straight back to my table. “Barjack,” he said, “congratulations on a job well done. I'm sure that everyone in Asininity is glad to have it over with and done so successfully.”
Just at that there time, I couldn't think a' nothing mean to say to the old pettifogger. I just looked up at him and said, “Thank you, Mr. Mayor. Would you care to set down with us and have a drink?”
“Well, I don'tâ”
“On the house?”
“Thank you,” he said, and he pulled out a chair and set down. I waved at Aubrey, and he come over. The mayor seed the pink sissy drink Bonnie was having, and he ast for one a' them. I still never teased him nor picked on him. There would always be another time.
Just then there was a loud bang. It sounded to me like a shotgun blast. It was loud enough, and it was so unexpected, that it made me jump. “That sounded like a shotgun,” said Sly.
I looked down at Happy. “Happy,” I said, “you and Butcher go check it out.”
They both jumped up and said, “Yes, sir.” They went a-running out. We all went quiet again after
that. I noticed that Peester had jumped at the sound too, and he had spilt his pink sissy drink down the front a' his white suit. In another minute, Happy come back in. He was a-carrying what looked like a letter in his hand. He come back to the table, and he give me the letter.
“It looked like Chugwater, Barjack,” he said.