The Hanging of Elmer Ford

“You couldn’t know Elmer’s nature,” Sam allowed. “Elmer was never a standup neighbor. Yet it’s going to pain me to have to hang him.”

Dan nodded assent. “He got a wife and family?”

“Yep. And ten kids. Looks like I will have to help them out some after he’s gone.” The rancher fetched his gunbelt and a Buntline pistol. After cinching it around his waist, he took out a shotgun, then reached for his biggest hat. “We will round up any hands that’s willing and we’ll ride.”

They had Gus saddling horses as they looked around for hands working nearby. There was two loading hay in the barn and three preparing to slaughter a beef. All five became bent on avenging their comrades. They somehow kept clear of Sue, who would have insisted on coming along, and soon all were in the saddle, riding at a quick trot, off to take that “bastid” Ford. First, of course, they would see to burying his victims and were carrying blankets to wrap the bodies.

When they came on the bloody scene, hardened men were repulsed at what they saw. Words should not be employed to make pictures of such a horror. Dan discovered a trace of life yet in the eyes of Curly. Like a candle the eyes flickered, then faded. He was gone. With the fading, Dan also saw other eyes, the eyes of a dying sister, in her final instant. Annie -

They tenderly wrapped the lost comrades, then carefully and reverently buried them. Sam spoke a few words, but no words could address the sorrow these men felt. Or the urge for revenge.

Despite the sagebrush in bloom, an occasional yellow cactus flower among prickly pears slowly turning red, swarming birds in the trees, a rabbit across their path, the men felt gloom like an impending storm upon their souls. Soon enough, they went over the ridge, where a full view of the ranch house, with its barn and corral roundabout, stood in blissful silence. They found Elmer sitting in a homemade chair, alone on the porch, with his hand resting on a favorite dog. He seemed somewhat in a trance. He looked crushed like a battered cabbage.

The riders formed a single row, shoulder to shoulder, the length of the porch. Sam, along with his foreman, dismounted and approached as far as the steps. His eyes and Elmer‘s met and they just looked for a time. “Where can I find a suitable horse?” Sam asked.

Elmer pointed to his left without ever altering his position in the chair. Dan went off to the corral. He came back, leading a large paint. Together he and the boss approached the doomed man. They caused him to stand. Dan tied his wrists behind him. They helped him down the steps and hoisted him atop the saddle. “Are there a good limb hereabouts? Must we go looking for one?” Dan said, gently.

“We got an old hanging tree on the way towards Del Lobo,” Elmer replied.

The riders followed the wagon trail, making no sound but clopping hooves. A short way up trees began to crowd the trail a bit and then the way parted. Before them grew the greatest oak tree many had ever seen. Dan had fashioned a noose on the way, which he now slung over a limb. He tied off the loose end so that once Elmer swung the noose would tighten appropriately. He slipped the knotted rope over the man’s head and settled it snuggly about the neck.

Sam minded the horse’s reins as Dan moved back, ready to slap the paint’s rump. “Any last words?” Sam enquired matter of factly.

“I know now I done wrong,” Elmer lamented. “But I ain’t sorry, ‘cause I thought I done the right thing when I done it. That drifter we shot lived long enough to tell us how we mistook innocent men. It was after we done what we done to those men. So hang me and get over with it.”

Dan slapped the horse as hard as he could and it ran off to leave Elmer dangling. At first, his feet started like they were walking. They quickly went limp.