Terror at Hellhole by L. D. Henry Page B

both hands, groping, tearing at the thing cutting into his throat. Losing his balance, his legs kicked out and suddenly the ladder began to slide sideways along the wall as though propelled by some strange force. His scream was cut short and his struggling feet tried to walk on air when the ladder crashed to the ground. The crimson burst in his eyes before he was enveloped in the black void.
    Speechless, the three convicts and Hack stared up at Powers suspended halfway up the eighteen-foot wall, quivering, but with no visible support.
    And it was full minute before Hack stirred to action.
    Alerted by the frantic guard who had just interrupted his evening meal, Warden Tarbow ordered the hysterical Hack to silence. “Quiet!” he snapped. “Now slow down a minute, damn it. I can’t make out a thing you’re saying.”
    He ushered the man away from the door and off the porch, not wanting to disturb his wife still seated at the table. Then he tried again. “Now tell me what happened.”
    Calmer now in the presence of his superior, Hack said: “I really don’t know, sir. Powers had just finished punching a ventilator hole through the roof of that new cell, and he was coming down the ladder, which was leaning against the wall in the corner by the guard tower. I didn’t pay him too much mind once he started down the ladder ’cause I didn’t trust that three-fingered bastid or that big nigger as long as they had sledges in their hands. Not after what they done to poor old Sheaves.”
    Tarbow nodded. “Easy now, you’re doing fine. Then what happened?”
    Lamplight shining from the superintendent’s doorway caught the angle of the agitated guard’s jaw. He swallowed grimly, then continued: “Next thing I knew the ladder slid from under him, only he didn’t fall. The ladder hit the ground but Powers just kept hanging up there in midair, kicking like a man on the gallows...only we can’t see no rope!”
    Tarbow took the man by the arm and started toward the sally port entrance to the prison yard. “Keep talking, Hack. Tell me the rest of it,” he urged.
    â€œWell, sir, I herded them prisoners back to their cell, then I hollered for the yard captain to bring some lanterns. I got Allison and Frettly standing by at the body now, so I came to tell you quick as I could.”
    After the gate guard had allowed them inside the wall, they walked rapidly through the yard to the rear wall. Tarbow saw the lanterns circling the two guards standing watch. Powers’s body could be seen hanging motionless, outlined as a darkened shadow on the wall by lantern light. Closer now, he could see the dark line of blood forming a black band around the dead man’s neck, the skin bulging and cut, the front of his throat having disgorged his life’s blood over his drenched clothing.
    â€œPut up the ladder,” Tarbow directed the two guards. “Hold it while I go up there and take a look.”
    He picked up one of the lanterns and carefully climbed the ladder now positioned beside the still body. By the yellow light, he could see the man’s swollen neck, then he raised his eyes upward, following the silvery sheen of the thin steel wire to where it was wrapped around a corner post of the tower. Strong, but hair thin, the steel wire was invisible from the ground.
    The superintendent whistled through tense lips. “Garroted and hung in the same breath. The poor beggar’s hanging by his neck bone alone,” he said to the guards eagerly looking up at him. “Get another ladder alongside him, and bring a pair of cutting pliers. He’s hanging by a wire.”
    Jittery, Tarbow came carefully down the ladder, glad to be away from the dead man. “When you get him down, take the body around to the carpenter shop. Put him on one of the workbenches. Lock the door and put a guard on it until the doctor gets here.”
    The superintendent