Placerville:
The journey from Sacramento to Placerville passed by uneventfully. Camping to rest, the wagon train made it in roughly thirty hours. They pulled into town just after dark to find the town square filled with people. Torches held high, not in celebration but in anticipation of the lynching about to happen.
“What’s going on?” Helena was unsure about the display in the town park. A sprawling oak tree was outfitted with a noose.
“We’re goin’ hang us a witch,” the closest man said.
Helena searched the crowd looking for anyone who might be the intended victim before turning to Sigmund. “We can’t let this happen.”
“We don’t even know what this is?” Sigmund swept his hand over the crowd as he replied to her comment.
Helena pointed at the hanging tree her voice raised in volume, “
