Four days later Captain Call, Captain McCrae, eight rangers, and several sheriffso were hidden in a clump of timber near the south bank of the Red River, waiting for Famous Shoes to find the renegades and let them know how many fighting men they would have to face.

Famous Shoes easily found the renegades' camp, but he soon saw that Blue Duck wasn't there. He knew this news would displease Captain Call and Captain McCrae, and he was right.

"Who is there, if he ain't?" Augustus asked impatiently.

"There are twelve men and some women--they are cooking a horse," Famous Shoes said.

"Ermoke is not there either. He is a man who rapes whenever he can." "Where the hell is Blue Duck?" Gus asked. "I hate to waste time on the chiggers he left behind. The sheriffso can handle them." "Gus, we're here--we might as well help the sheriffso do this job," Call said. "Maybe some of the men know where he went." "Blue Duck has gone west and he is in a hurry," Famous Shoes said. "He took four horses and two men." "That's it, let's go get after him," Augustus said.

Call looked at the sheriffso, all local men. They did not look happy at the prospect of being left to fight a dozen renegades. All were poor men--probably they had just agreed to serve as sheriffso because they feared starvation if they tried to continue as farmers or merchants. Money was short and jobs scarce in Texas at the time.

"No, let's help the sheriffso round up these outlaws," Call said. "The sheriffso would be outnumbered if we leave." In the event, the renegades in Blue Duck's camp didn't fight at all. One man did raise his rifle when the rangers came charging into camp, but he was immediately shot dead. Then ten dirty, half-starved men threw up their hands --the twelfth man managed to wiggle out of the back of a tent into some reeds by the river. He escaped that day but was killed two days later in Shreveport, Louisiana, while trying to rob a hardware store.

Once the renegades were disarmed Deets was given the job of tying them. Jake Spoon, before he left, taught Deets what he knew about knots. Call and Augustus were ready to hand the prisoners over to the sheriffso, but the sheriffso balked.

One of the sheriffso, whose name was Kettler, pointed to a grove of oak trees not far from the river.

"We can't be putting the county to the expense of raising no jury," he said. "It's planting time. The men need to be in their fields. I ain't asking them to take off just to try a bunch of bad 'uns like these men.

"Your nigger there is good with knots," he added.

"We'd be obliged if you'd wait long enough for him to tie the hang knots." Call looked at Augustus, who shrugged.

"I expect they're all horse thieves, at least," Gus said, pointing to the sizable horse herd grazing nearby.

"All right," Call said. "If they're with Blue Duck I've no doubt they need hanging." None of the doomed men said even a ^w in their own defense, and none of the slatternly women followed the little procession to the oak grove. The women seemed numbed by the morning's events--they sat in dejection near one of the smouldering oak grove campfires.

"I hope you'll at least take these women with you, Sheriff Kettler," Call said. "I imagine some of them were captives. They'll starve if you leave them." "We won't leave them," the sheriff promised.

When they got to the oak grove they discovered that there was no one tree with a limb strong enough or low enough to hang all the men from. Deets, who rarely betrayed any sign of nerves no matter how dangerous the conflict, looked uncertain as he searched among the oak trees for a suitable hanging tree. He had never tied a hang knot and was conscious that the eyes of the several hard sheriffso were upon him. He was being asked to hang white men, ten at that. He knew he had to do it, though; besides worrying that he might not get the knots right--the lariat ropes he had to work with were of uneven strength and texture--he had already begun to worry about the fact that he would soon be setting ten ghosts loose, ghosts that might pursue him and work spells against him. None of the ten condemned men had made any effort to plead for their lives. They stood silently among the sheriffso and rangers, looking like whipped dogs.

"Here's one good stout limb," Augustus said.

"It ought to hold four of them, at least." "I'd make that three," Sheriff Kettler said, looking at the limb in question with a practiced eye. "If you hang men too close together they're apt to bump into one another while they're swinging." "What would it matter, if they're swinging?" Augustus said.

Call found the proceedings an irritant.

Time was being wasted. If only the outlaws had put up a fight they could have shot several of them and not had to proceed with such a lengthy hanging. Finally three limbs were selected. The men were put on borrowed horses; Deets carefully tied the hang knots just as he had seen Jake do. Two limbs held three men each and another limb held four. The sheriffso grouped the men carelessly, so that the tallest man ended up hanging from the lowest and weakest limb. His toes, when he bounced on the rope, were less than an inch from the ground.

Deets, despite his conviction that a passel of spells would soon be unleashed against him, did a careful job. None of the knots failed. The heavier men died instantly, while the lighter fellows kicked and swayed for several minutes.

Only the tall man occasioned much of a wait.

At the end of ten minutes he was still alive.

Call, impatient, wanted to shoot him, but knew that would be improper procedure. Finally the man ceased to kick, but, by the time they were ready to ride off, the limb had sagged so much that the tall man's toes rested on the ground.

"I thank you for obliging me," Sheriff Kettler said to Call and Augustus. "This has saved the county a passel of expense." "Don't forget the women," Call said, as they rode away.

Famous Shoes, too, was impatient--he did not understand the Texans' preference for hanging.

If they didn't want to torture the men, why not just shoot them? It would have been much quicker.

As they rode away Call observed that Augustus seemed unusually melancholy.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked.

"It's gloomy work, hanging men in the morning," Augustus said. "Here the sun's up and it's a nice day, but they won't get to live it.

"Besides," he added a little later, "I get to thinking that, but for luck, it could have been me hanging there." Call was startled by the remark.