The man who had served as hangman bent over, staring at the rope embedded in Parr’s neck. He tried to work his finger under the hemp. When that came to no effect, he pulled out his jackknife and sawed at the rope until it parted. Parr was left with the welt made by the rope and several shallow cuts from the jackknife. His chest expanded as he sucked in a huge breath of air.
“Bring that hoss back,” said the pipe-smoker sourly. “And somebody find a decent rope.”
Now Parr was truly despairing. They were going to do it again. It just wasn’t right. Even a guilty man shouldn’t have to hang twice. And Wes Parr was damn well innocent!