From Place to Place | Page 5

that it's wuth it, too. The Bible says the labourer is
worthy of his hire. I try to be worthy of the hire I git. I certainly aim to
earn it--an' I reckin I do earn it, takin' everything into consideration--the
responsibility an' all. Ef there's any folks that think I earn my money
easy--seventy-five dollars fur whut looks like jest a few minutes'
work--I'd like fur 'em to stop an' think ef they'd consider themselves
qualified to hang ez many men ez I have without never botchin' up a
single job."
That was his chief boast, if boasting it might be called--that he never
botched the job. It is the common history of common hangmen, so I've
been told, that they come after a while to be possessed of the devils of
cruelty, and to take pleasure in the exercise of their most grim calling.
If this be true, then surely Uncle Tobe was to all outward appearances
an exception to the rule. Never by word or look or act was he caught
gloating over his victims; always he exhibited a merciful swiftness in
the dread preliminaries and in the act of execution itself. At the outset
he had shown deftness. With frequent practise he grew defter still. He
contrived various devices for expediting the proceeding. For instance,
after prolonged experiments, conducted in privacy, he evolved a
harnesslike arrangement of leather belts and straps, made all in one

piece, and fitted with buckles and snaffles. With this, in a marvellously
brief space, he could bind his man at elbows and wrists, at knees and
ankles, so that in less time almost than it would take to describe the
process, the latter stood upon the trap, as a shape deprived of motion,
fully caparisoned for the end. He fitted the inner side of the crosspiece
of the gallows with pegs upon which the rope rested, entirely out of
sight of him upon whom it was presently to be used, until the moment
when Uncle Tobe, stretching a long arm upward, brought it down, all
reeved and ready. He hit upon the expedient of slickening the noose
parts with yellow bar soap so that it would run smoothly in the loop and
tighten smartly, without undue tugging. He might have used grease or
lard, but soap was tidier, and Uncle Tobe, as has been set forth, was a
tidy man.
After the first few hangings his system began to follow a regular
routine. From somewhere to the west or southwest of Chickaloosa the
deputy marshals would bring in a man consigned to die. The prison
people, taking their charge over from them, would house him in a cell
of a row of cells made doubly tight and doubly strong for such as he; in
due season the warden would notify Uncle Tobe of the date fixed for
the inflicting of the penalty. Four or five days preceding the day, Uncle
Tobe would pay a visit to the prison, timing his arrival so that he
reached there just before the exercise hour for the inmates of a certain
cell-tier. Being admitted, he would climb sundry flights of narrow iron
stairs and pause just outside a crisscrossed door of iron slats while a
turnkey, entering that door and locking it behind him, would open a
smaller door set flat in the wall of damp-looking grey stones and invite
the man caged up inside to come forth for his daily walk. Then, while
the captive paced the length and breadth of the narrow corridor back
and across, to and fro, up and down, with the futile restlessness of a cat
animal in a zoo, his feet clumping on the flagged flooring, and the
watchful turnkey standing by, Uncle Tobe, having flattened his lean
form in a niche behind the outer lattice, with an appraising eye would
consider the shifting figure through a convenient cranny of the wattled
metal strips. He took care to keep himself well back out of view, but
since he stood in shadow while the one he marked so keenly moved in
a flood of daylight filtering down through a skylight in the ceiling of

the cell block, the chances were the prisoner could not have made out
the indistinct form of the stranger anyhow. Five or ten minutes of such
scrutiny of his man was all Uncle Tobe ever desired. In his earlier days
before he took up this present employment, he had been an adept at
guessing the hoof-weight of the beeves and swine in which he dealt.
That early experience stood him in good stead now; he took no credit to
himself for his accuracy in estimating the bulk of a living human being.
Downstairs, on the way out of the place, if by chance he encountered
the warden in