It was a warrant signed by the governor, and it was his sworn duty to carry it out. His eyes locked on the words to be hanged by the neck until dead. Out the back window, he saw the setting for the duty he had to perform: the courtyard between his office and the jail. He saw the simple wood platform that had been pulled out of the corner for the day’s event. At the top of its steps were two posts and a crossbar with a noose hanging motionless in the stagnant air. Out the front window, the sheriff caught sight of a youngster from the town, a boy about ten years old, walking along the street with his father. The man went into the shop next door, and the boy sat on a bench outside to wait for him. The youngster settled himself comfortably and began to read a book he was carrying. The sheriff noticed how quickly the child became immersed in the book. With his face lowered to the pages and his hair spilling into his eyes, he seemed oblivious to passersby and street noises. The sheriff marveled at the boy’s apparent preference for reading rather than shopping with his father.
