“All that I have described to you took place very rapidly. I was not conscious of any appreciable interval between the time of my conveyance from the station by the mob and the final act of the execution which my memory had painted for me.
“While the drama of the hanging was being played in my mind, the preparations for a more tangible execution under the auspices of Judge Lynch were going on.
“The boy with the rope ‘shinned’ up the telegraph pole like a young monkey. Arriving at the first cross arm of the pole, he passed the rope over it and threw the loose end down to the expectant crowd of bloodthirsty savages below.
“When the free end of the rope struck the ground, the entire crowd, with the exception of two or three men who were holding me, rushed for it, and fought for holds upon it. Each was more than willing to do his share in the killing of their helpless victim.
“The falling of the rope’s end and the mad rush of the crowd to secure it broke the spell in which I was bound and I regained my voice sufficiently to indistinctly mumble my name. A few seconds more and my death by strangulation would have been more than a mental picture—it would have been a grim reality! One of my guards had sufficient sense—or curiosity, I don’t know which, nor do I care so long as it served me well—to call a halt in the ceremonies.
“‘Hold on, boys! Wait a minute—let’s hear what this feller’s tryin’ to say. We’ve got plenty of time to hear his spiel.’
“Most of the crowd came reluctantly back to listen. The more ravenously bloodthirsty of the mob still held on to the rope and waited impatiently for the continuation of the pleasure party. As the brutes crowded around me I managed to introduce myself a little more coherently.
“‘Go on, what yer givin’ us?’ said the man who had halted the execution; ‘He says he’s a doctor, boys’.
“‘Here, let’s have a look at that feller,’ cried a voice from somewhere in the crowd. A man pressed forward and confronted me.
“‘Gimme that lantern.’