 I reckon y'all heard the rumors about the old hanging tree just outside of town. Let me tell you right now, they ain't rumors. The legend of the hanging tree goes back a ways. All started a year or so after I first rode into town with a starving horse in empty pockets. Had an area sent to my name back then, so I took what odd jobs I could find here and there. And like many a young man in these parts, that led me to hunting bounties. Let me tell you one thing for sure. Bounty hunting ain't all it's cracked up to be. It's a dangerous job, and though the sheriff makes sure I get my dues, you don't get much thanks for it. And over time, it starts to change you. Makes you start seeing the world different. Makes you start thinking about life and what it's worth different. The same time I started hunting, a young man started to make a name for himself. He was snatching up bounties left and right, and a few of them got people talking. He even managed to catch the invisible bandit, started getting a real big hit about it too. Even got himself a fancy moniker to go with his growing list of bounties, the hangman. At least a dozen folks brought in by the hangman saw their last light hanging from that there tree before we noticed something was up. And they're all still there. No, not the bodies. Sheriff makes sure they get brought over to old Hiram at the graveyard right quick. The memories, their hearts, their souls. That's all that's left. That's what the tree keeps. Don't believe me? Touch it. Go on ahead and touch it. I'll wait. No? That's what I thought. Sheriff Ray was the first to really figure out what was happening with that tree. He was taking down the hangman's latest trophy and said he saw a vision. It was like a dream, but I weren't sleeping, he said. Told me he was seeing things through someone else's eyes as the hangman drug him back to town. Saw him slipping the noose over his neck. Said he could even feel his breath running out before he finally got his hand off that cursed oak. Sheriff Ray wasn't quite sure how to handle it. He called in the town preacher and he did some prayer, mumbo-jumbo, but it didn't do any good. Mayor even managed to convince a medicine man from the local tribe to have a look. He took one glance at that tree, shook his head and left. The hangman was making more and more of a name for himself by then. Sheriff Ray told him what he saw when he touched the tree, but the hangman didn't care. He was just interested in the bounties. He just kept dragging more folks back to town, knowing full well that there was something off about that tree. As long as he was getting paid, he didn't give a goddamn about those poor souls trapped in that tree. Then one day, one of his bounties went sour. He limped back to town, hoarseless and bleeding something awful. Before he could get to Doc Miller, he had to take a rest and he slumped right up against that tree. He saw them all. Sheriff Ray saw one, but the hangman saw every single bounty he had brought to be hung from that tree. He saw what it was like to face him, to face death, to breathe your last with the regret and fear in your heart. Doc Miller found him at death's door the next moment, still slumped against that tree, crying and wailing about how sorry he was. The hangman died that night at the self-same tree that he took his name safe from. All that was left was just another ranger doing his best to keep people safe and some knotted rope still swinging in the wind.