The sheriff grabbed the hood that would have covered Alexander's head for the hanging. He wiped his bloody hand on it and tossed it to the ground below. The other two men dragged him over to the center of the platform. There before him, he saw the noose. The realization of what was about to happen hit him like a ton of bricks. He muttered, “Why?”
They shoved him forward. He did not resist.
“Hang that son of a bitch! He’s crazy! He tried to kill me! Hang him!” yelled the sheriff.
Alexander felt the cold stiff rope fit tightly around his neck. The rope had a wet dank smell. He was giving up. He had failed. His son was dead. The sheriff saw a posse fast approaching the town square. He could not tell who they were but he was certain that they were there to interfere with the hanging. It was a blistering hot day on the platform. He looked over at the noose around Alexander’s neck that was just moments from snapping. Alexander would soon fall through the trap door. The sheriff wanted Alexander dead. He’d waited years to exact his revenge on the man responsible for his wife’s death. No one was going to deprive him of this – not when he was this close.
“Damn it! Who the hell is that?” He said as he pointed in the direction of half a dozen men coming into the town square. The sheriff had committed a heinous crime. He murdered the son of the man that was about to be hanged. Moreover, the sheriff successfully managed to blame Alexander for the stagecoach robbery just a couple of days before. The Sheriff had killed the driver and a wealthy couple from Alexander’s hometown.
“Hurry up get this thing done. We are here to serve justice!” the Sheriff said to his deputy. “But-” said the deputy. The deputy looked at Alexander’s face. It was bloody and bare. “Shouldn’t he have a hood?” The sheriff glared at the deputy. “Yes, sir,” said the deputy. “We are here to do a hanging,” said the sheriff. The sheriff didn’t wait; he climbed down the stairs and ran to his horse.