The Wind in the Gallows

A strong wind kicked up dust and blew along a few tumbleweeds on the outskirts of town. In this rough country, only the strong survived. The only town for a hundred miles in any direction was aptly named Blood Gulch. There had been a fierce battle with a large band of Commanche near a fort, and after the victory over them, a town sprang up nearby. There was gold in the hills and plenty of pasture for grazing, and so the settlers streamed in, along with many outlaws. Miners and prospectors flush with cash would carouse in the town's saloons. There was a great deal of drinking, fighting, stealing, and shooting. For a time, the good law-abiding folk of the town were at the mercy of the thieves and other assorted scoundrels. That is until Sheriff Toad and his close friend "Hanging" Judge Roy Badger were dispatched to the town by the territory's governor. Badger knew the area and the Commanche well. 

The town of Blood Gulch had a certain reputation, even among the more lawless locales of the old west. Sheriff Toad and Judge Badger laid down the law as best they could. Today, Friday, just before sunset, a few more notorious criminals would be sent off to meet their maker. The gallows of Blood Gulch were at the end of main street, so it would be the first thing anyone who ventured into town would see. To one side of the gallows was the church and on the other side, the graveyard. It was natural progression, and the last day of more than a few brigands took them to all three places. It was hoped that the prominent placement of the execution grounds would deter crime, yet there still plenty of hangings.

This Friday it was Carlos Panzram's turn to marry the rope-maker's daughter and learn how to fly, as they said in those parts. Panzram had already gone, or rather, been taken in leg irons to the church to meet with the preacher. Despite the preacher's passionate pleas, Panzram was silent and showed no remorse. His crime spree had been the talk of the territory and to make matters worse, most of his gang were still at large. There was hardly a single crime or outrage they had not committed, though their mainstays were robbing stagecoaches and rustling cattle. No one knew quite how many men Panzram had in his gang, but given the scale of their activity, it was widely suspected to number in the hundreds if not more. Sheriff Toad suspected the capture of Panzram was merely a ruse, and that the gang would be riding into town to rescue their leader.

Judge Badger had petitioned the governor directly for the militia to be mobilized, but no to no avail. It seemed that even the rough and ready men of the territory were reluctant to leave their homes and families to confront such a powerful foe. Fortunately, Judge Badger and Sheriff Toad had a few more tricks up their sleeves. For starters, aside from a few conscientious objectors and the infirm, damn near every trustworthy adult in the town was armed and deputized. Still, in a high-stakes game like this, there was no telling exactly what the flop, turn, and river would reveal. Judge Parker decided that Panzram was to be hanged at high noon. He reasoned that Panzram's gang was used to the cover of darkness, and so it made sense to force them into making a move in the daylight if they wanted to rescue their leader.  

As the sun climbed high and all the shadows shrank, the preacher led Panzram up the creaky wooden steps of the gallows. Gusts of wind here and there formed dust devils; it was as though Satan had sent up a welcoming delegation for Panzram. The hangman fit the noose around Panzram's neck and pull the knot just tight enough so that the condemned man could still breathe and speak. 

"Alright, Panzram", yelled out Judge Badger from below. "Any last words?"

"Yeah, hurry up you Hoosier bastards! I could kill a dozen of you sons of bitches in the time you've been foolin' around!"

Sheriff Toad was about to pull the lever for the gallows trapdoor when suddenly, off in the distance, he heard the sound of hoofbeats. As he turned to look, an ominous dust cloud rose up, and the faint sight of men in saddles was proof that this was no stampede. Sheriff Toad drew his six-shooter and fired one shot in the air. That was the signal for everyone in the town to pass on the alarm and get ready. The church bell began to ring, and hastily mustered deputies with rifles took up positions on rooftops and behind cover. The bandits began to take wild potshots until their apparent leader gestured at them to stop. He pulled out a white handkerchief and held it aloft as he and a dozen of his compatriots slowly walked their horses to where Sheriff Toad and Judge Badger stood. Panzram's second-in-command spoke.

"I have a simple proposition for you that I think will leave us all a lot happier. You let Panzram go, we take him with us, and we'll never set foot in this town again. C'mon, sheriff. "

"How about I just hang him right now?", said Sheriff Toad as he adjusted his grip on the trapdoor lever.

"Ah, but if you do that", said the boss bandit as he and his companions all drew their revolvers, "there's gonna be a lot of work for the undertaker."

Sheriff Toad and Judge Badger knew he was right. The bandits had them badly outnumbered and outgunned despite their best efforts. Fortunately, they still had one more trick up their sleeves, and it was a surprise so cunning that not even a man as diabolical as Panzram could have seen it coming. 

"A smart man knows when he's beaten. Go ahead up there and cut your man loose", said Sheriff Toad with an air of weary resignation. He let his hand off the trapdoor lever. A rider dismounted, bounded up the steps quick as a mountain lion, and cut Panzram loose from the scaffold with a Bowie knife. He heaved Panzram over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, descended the gallows steps, and flung Panzram across the back of his horse before mounting the saddle himself. It was an almost comical scene seeing the gang leader be manhandled in such a way. The gang clearly had no intention of sticking around longer than need be. Just as soon as Panzram's rescuer was back in the saddle, there was a chorus of giddy-ups and hyahs, and all the bandits galloped off.

When all the riders had disappeared into the dust cloud, Sheriff Toad turned to speak with Judge Badger.

"Well Roy, I did what you said. Now what?"

"Now we just wait a few hours. There's a band of Commanche waiting for Panzram and his men. The Commanche like to wait for the horses of their enemies to get tired before attacking. They get more scalps that way."

True to the judge's word, the Commanche attacked and scalped Panzram and all his men. Their bodies were left to rot unburied while the victorious Commanche rounded up the outlaws' guns, ammo, and horses. One Commanche rider came back and presented Panzram's scalp to Judge Badger. After a taxidermist preserved it, he nailed it to a wall in his office where it remained for the next 40 years. The judge enjoyed showing it off to visitors and after he retired, and his office became a tourist attraction. For a nickel, you could go into the office and see the scalp of the notorious outlaw.