Stepsons of Light Part 18

"No trial to-day," said Gwinne gruffly. "Justice of the peace is up in the hills beyond Kingston, doin' a.s.sessments. They've gone after him, but they won't get back till late to-night."

"H'm!" Johnny rubbed his nose and looked searchingly at his ridiculously small and shapely feet; he wriggled his toes. "And don't I eat till His Honor gets back?" he inquired diffidently.

Gwinne rose heavily and shambled to the cell. "If I let you out to eat breakfast with me like a white man--no pranks?"

"Nary prank," said Johnny.

"She goes," said Gwinne.

He unlocked the door. Johnny slipped on his high-heeled boots and followed his jailer to the kitchen.

"Water and washpan over there," said Gwinne, and poked fresh wood in the fire. "Ham and eggs this A. M." He rumbled a subterranean ditty:

_Ham-fat, ham-fat, smoking in the pan-- There's a mighty sight of muscle on a ham-fat man._

Johnny sent an amused glance up and down his warden's inches.

"You must have been raised on it, then."

"Hog and hominy. There's a comb and brush."

"Got a comb." Johnny fumbled comb and toothbrush from his vest, and completed his toilet. "Haven't you had breakfast yet?"

"Naw. I hated to wake you up, you was. .h.i.tting it off so regular. And you're the only prisoner I got now. Court's just over and the sheriff he's gone to Santa Fe with my only boarders. Lord only knows when he'll get back," said Mr. Gwinne parenthetically. "Jim is a good sheriff, a mighty good sheriff--but when he gets away from home he sees life through a gla.s.s darkly. They had him in jail, last time. So I thought we might as well be sociable."

"Oh! Then you're the party for me to jolly up when I want favors?"

"No," said Gwinne regretfully, "I'm not. The justice is gone, the sheriff's gone, and the district judge is always gone except when court sits here. But the prosecuting attorney--he serves for the whole district, five counties, like the judge, you know--why, by bad luck, he's right here, a-hoppin' and a-rarin'. So I'm under orders."

"Well, so am I. What are they? What can I do to help?" The ham sizzled merrily. "Um-m!" said Johnny appreciatively.

"You might set the table. I'll do the cooking to-day. If so be you get to be a star boarder you'll have to do your share of the cooking--though I reckon they'll want me to keep you under key if you're bound over. Come to think, this prosecuting person would likely kick like a green bay horse if he knew I was lettin' you mill round foot-loose. However, he don't know. How many eggs? Hard or soft?"

"Oh, about four--medium. We can always cook more if we have to. And four pods of _chili_. But why has the prosecutor got it in for me? He don't want to cinch me unless I'm guilty, does he?"

"It isn't that, exactly. You see, it has got out that you ride for the Bar Cross. And the Bar Cross boys got Wade's goat, some way, down in Cruces. I don't know what they did, but he's sure on the peck, and here's where he stands to break even. Pour the coffee. Tin cow yonder on the shelf."

"Oh, well--he may have a little fun coming to him," said Johnny generously. "But let us hope, for his own sake, that he gives me a fair shake when it comes to my trial. If the Bar Cross and the John Cross aren't just satisfied they are capable of any rudeness--abandoned ruffians! Say, I hope someone took care of my Twilight horse."

"He's all right. I put him up with Otto Gans, myself. There, she's ready. _Sientese!_" The jailer seated himself opposite the guest.

"No b.u.t.ter. You'll have to excuse me."

"b.u.t.ter, h.e.l.l. Whadya think I am--an incubator kid? Say, there's a few old vets here in Hillsboro that used to know my dad--me, too, when I was a little shaver, some of them. Spinal Maginnis, George Perrault, Kayler, Nick Galles and Preisser. H'm, let me see--and Jake Blun, Mabury and Page. Could you manage me a palaver with some one or two of 'em after breakfast?"

"Pleasure first, pain afterwards," growled Gwinne. "You eat a few lines while I hold high discourse to you about the good and great.

District attorneys, now. Us being a territory thataway, district attorneys are appointed by the President--allee same like our judges and U. S. marshals and clerks of the court. All of 'em are appointed for four years, the same being the President's term. Presidents being so const.i.tuted by a wise and beneficent Providence, they appoint men from states where said men and their friends, if any, vote for President, and not from our humble midst. 'Cause why? We're not allowed to vote. More coffee?"

Johnny held his cup. Gwinne took up his discourse.

"Also, and moreover, they appoint politicians. We will not pursue this painful subject further except to add that, New Mexico being what and where it is, these appointees, while they might be first-cla.s.s men and seldom were--they were always tenth-rate politicians. Because politicians rated higher than tenth-rate demanded something better.

Yes. When Grover was in, they all came from Missouri, and they wasn't so bad but what they might have been worse, with proper care. And now they're all from darkest Injianny; a doubtful state. Something else, too. Even when they was well-meaning--which often was guessable--why, they're not our people. We have our little ways and they have their own little ways, and they're not the same little ways; and they rule us by their little ways. That's bad. To judge a man by the standards of another time and place is prejudging, and that means oppression, and oppression breeds riots in h.e.l.l. That is how most trouble starts, I reckon--not understanding, prejudging. Men don't naturally like to press down. They'd a heap rather comfort and help--if they could just see the way clear. Helping someone out of a tight is just about the pleasantest thing a man can do. But these people Uncle Sam sends here to manage us, they don't think our thoughts and they don't speak our tongue. They ask for brick and we bring them mortar; they ask for bread and we rock 'em to sleep. That's the way I look at it. Won't you coincide with me?"

"Why, yes," said Johnny, "now that you mention it--I don't care if I do."

The jailer eyed his captive with painful distrust. Then he sighed heavily.

"Flippant and inattentive! A bad mark. Nine more demerits and you'll be suspended." He rose and went to a closet and returned with a bottle and gla.s.ses. "A long drop and a quick finis.h.!.+"

"Wis.h.i.+ng you the same!" said Johnny Dines. The gla.s.ses clinked together.

"So you be advised and don't waive examination," resumed Gwinne. "Wade will want you to do that. Don't you listen to Wade. You make your fight to-morrow. Old Andy Hinkle, the J. P., he's a homespun. When he hits a drill he hits her with all his carca.s.s, from the ground up, and when he goes a-judging, justice is what he wants. His habit and disposition is real earnest and he mostly brings back what he goes after. You could rake all h.e.l.l with a fine-tooth comb and not find a worse man to try you--if you killed Adam Forbes. If you did kill him you're goin' to lose your shadow soon--and there's your fortune told, right now."

"It is my thinking that I will make old bones yet, and tell tales in the chimney corner. Now you sit back and smoke while I wash up," said Johnny, gathering up the dishes. "I gotta ingratiate myself with you, you know. Go on, now--tell us some more. And how about me having a confidential with my friends?"

"That's just it. I was a-preparing of your mind, so you wouldn't be disappointed too much. This prosecuting person, Wade--he done instructed me not to let you see anyone except your lawyer."

"Lawyer, h.e.l.l! What do I want of a lawyer?"

"Oh! Then you claim to be innocent, do you?" Gwinne's silken brows arched in a.s.sumed astonishment.

"Well, I hope so!" said Johnny indignantly. "If I was claiming to be guilty, why confab with my friends? Say, this is one raw deal if a fellow can't get an even break."

"Wade claims you might frame up something. He was particularly anxious the John Cross shouldn't hear of it until after your preliminary.

Undue influence and all that."

"Frame up my foot! I didn't kill that man and I reckon I can prove it if I have any chance to know what evidence they're going to bring against me." Again that angry spot glowed on the clear olive of his cheek. "How can I study it over when I don't know what's happened or what is said to have happened? I'll have to go to trial in the dark--no chance to cipher on what's what, like I would if I had a chance to thresh it out with my friends."

"Well," said Gwinne gently, "what's the matter with me?"

"So that's all?" said Gwinne, after Dines had told his story. "Sure of it?"

"Absolutely. He rode up while I was branding my long-ear. He gave me a letter to mail and ga.s.sed while he smoked a cig, and wandered back the way he came, while I oozed away down the canon. No more, no less. Said he was prospecting, he did--or did he?" Johnny reflected; remembering then that Forbes in giving him a letter to mail had mentioned location notices. "Yes, he did."

With the words another memory came into his mind, of the trouble with Jody Weir on day herd--about another letter, that was. This memory--so Johnny a.s.sured himself--flashed up now because Weir was one of his five accusers. No--there were only three accusers, as he understood it from the talk of the night before; three accusers, five to arrest him.

Yet only one had come actually to make the arrest. Queer!

"Now," said Johnny, "it's your turn."

He curled a cigarette and listened. Early in the recital he rubbed his nose to stimulate thought; but later developments caused him to transfer that attention to his neck, which he stroked with caressing solicitude. Once he interrupted.

"I never stole a calf in a bare open hillside, right beside a wagon road, never in my whole life," he protested indignantly. "As an experienced man, does that look reasonable to you?"

"No, it don't," said Gwinne. "But that's the story. Adam was found close by your fire--shot in the back and dragged from the stirrup; shot as he rode, so close up that his s.h.i.+rt took fire. And no one rode in Redgate yesterday, but you, and those three, and Adam Forbes."

"Yes. That might very well be true," said Johnny.

"It is true. They wouldn't dare tell it that way if it wasn't true.

Tracks show for themselves. And they knew that good men would be reading those tracks."