Stepsons of Light Part 26

The justice of the peace--Judge Hinkle, Andy Hinkle--was a slim, wizened man, brown handed, brown faced, lean and wrinkled, with thin gray hair and a thin gray beard and faded blue eyes, which could blaze blue fire on occasion. Such fire, though a mild one, now died away from those old eyes, and into them crept a slightly puzzled expression. He looked hard at Mr. Wade and he looked hard at Mr.

Dines. Then he proceeded.

"Mr. Wade, this court--Oh, let's cut out the court--that makes me tired! 'This court fines you twenty-five dollars for contempt of court.' How would that sound?"

Wade managed a smile, and bowed, not ungracefully. "It would sound unpleasant--perhaps a little severe, sir."

The court twinkled. "I was only meaning how silly it seemed to a plain man for him to have to refer to himself as the court. I'm not going to fine you, Mr. Wade--not this time. I could, of course, but I won't. It would be unfair to lecture you first and then fine you. Besides, there is something else. You have had great provocation and I feel compelled to take that into consideration. Your apology is accepted. I don't know who began it--but if you have been insulting the prisoner it is no less true that the prisoner has been aggravating you. I don't know as I ever saw a more provoking man. I been keepin' an eye on him--his eyebrows, the corners of his eyes, the corners of his mouth, his shoulder-shrugging, and his elbows, and his teeth and his toes. Mr.

Wade, your moldy old saw about a fool for a client was never more misplaced. This man can out talk you and never open his mouth. I'd leave him alone if I was you--he might make a fool of you."

Johnny half opened his mouth. The judge regarded him sternly. The mouth closed hastily. Johnny dimpled. The judge's hammer fell with a crash.

"I give you both fair notice right now," said Judge Hinkle, "if you start any more of this quarreling I'm goin' to slap on a fine that'll bring a blister."

Johnny rose timidly and addressed the court.

"Your Honor, I'm aimin' to 'tend strictly to my knittin' from now on. But if I should make a slip, and you do have to fine me--couldn't you make it a jail sentence instead? I'm awful short of money, Your Honor."

He reached behind him and hitched up the tail of his vest with both hands, delicately; this accomplished, he sank into his chair, raised his trousers gently at the knee and gazed about him innocently.

"My Honor will be--"

The judge bit the sentence in two, leaving the end in doubt; he regarded the prisoner with baleful attention. The prisoner gazed through a window. The judge beckoned to Mr. Gwinne, who sat on the front seat between See and Hobby Lull. Mr. Gwinne came forward. The judge leaned across the desk.

"Mr. Gwinne, do you feed this prisoner well?"

"Yes, sir."

"About what, now, for instance?"

"Oh--beefsteak, ham and eggs, _enchilados_, canned stuff--most anything."

"Mr. Gwinne, if I told you to put this prisoner on a strict ration, would you obey orders?"

"I certainly would."

"That's all," said the judge. "Thank you. Mr. Dines, you may go on with the case. The witness may answer the question. Objection overruled. State your question again, Mr. Dines."

"Mr. Hales, will you tell His Honor what color was the calf I branded in Redgate Canon, day before yesterday, about two o'clock in the afternoon?"

"I don't know," answered Hales sulkily.

"Oh! You didn't see it, then?"

"No."

"Then you are not able to state that it was a calf belonging to Adam Forbes?"

"No."

Johnny's eyes sought the window. "Nor whether it was a calf or a yearling?"

"Of course not."

"Did you see me brand the calf?"

"I did not!" Hales spat out the words with venomous emphasis. Johnny was unmoved.

"Will you tell the court if the brand I put on this heifer calf or bull yearling was my brand or Adam Forbes' brand?"

The gavel fell.

"Objection!" barked Wade.

"Sustained. The question is improperly put. The witness need not answer it. The counsel for the defense need not continue along these lines. I am quite able to distinguish between evidence and surmise, between a stated fact and unfair suggestion."

"Does Your Honor mean to insinuate--"

"Sit down, Mr. Wade! Sit down! My Honor does not mean to insinuate anything. My Honor means to state that you have been trying to throw dust in my eyes. My Honor wishes to state that you should never have been allowed to present your evidence in any such shape, and if the prisoner had been represented by a competent lawyer you would not have been allowed--"

The judge checked himself; his face fell; he wheeled his chair slowly and glared at the prisoner with awful solemnity. "Dines! Is that why you made no objections? So the prosecuting attorney would queer himself with this court by attempting unfair tactics? Answer me, sir!"

"But is it likely, Your Honor, that I could see ahead as far as that?"

"Humph!" snorted His Honor. He turned back to the prosecuting attorney. "Mr. Wade, I am keeping cases on you. Your questions have been artfully framed to lead a simple old man astray--to bewilder him until he is ready to accept theory, surmise and suggestion as identical with a statement of facts or statements purporting to be facts. I'm simple and old, all right--but I never did learn to lead."

Mr. Benjamin Attlebury Wade sprang to his feet.

"Your Honor, I protest! You have been openly hostile to the prosecution from the first."

"Ah!" said the judge mildly. "You fear my remarks may unduly influence my decision--is that it? Calm yourself, Mr. Wade. I cannot say that I blame you much, however. You see, I think United States, and when I have to translate into the customary idiomcies of the law I do a b.u.m job." He turned his head and spoke confidentially to the delighted court room. "Boys, it's gettin' me!" he said. "Did you hear that chatter I put out, when all I wanted to say was that I still knew sugar from salt and sawdust from cornmeal--also, in any case of extreme importance, as hereinbefore mentioned, and taking in consideration the fine and subtle nuisances of delicate thought, as it were, whereas, being then and there loaded with shot and slugs, I can still tell a hawk from a handsaw. Why, I'm getting so I talk that jargon to my jacka.s.s when I wallop him over the place made and provided on him, the said jacka.s.s, with a _curajo_ pole! I'll tell you what--the first man I catch voting for me next year I'm going to pat him over the head with a pickhandle. You may proceed with the case, Mr. Dines."

"This is an outrage!" bawled the furious and red-faced prosecutor.

"This is an outrage! An outrage! These proceedings are a mockery! This whole trial is a travesty on justice!"

The gavel banged down.

"This court is now adjourned," announced Judge Hinkle.

He leaned back in his chair and sighed luxuriously. He took out a pair of steel-rimmed spectacles and polished them; he held them poised delicately in one hand and beamed benevolently on the crowded court room.

"We have had a very trying forenoon," observed Mr. Hinkle blandly.

"Perhaps some of us are ruffled a little. But I trust that nothing which has happened in this court room will cause any hard feeling of a lasting character. And I strongly advise that under no circ.u.mstances will any of you feel impelled to take any man and put his head under a pump, and pump on his head." The gavel rapped smartly. "This court will now come to order! Mr. Dines, as I remarked before recess, you will now proceed with the case."

"I'll not detain you long, Mr. Hales," said Johnny. "I didn't bother to cross-examine the previous witnesses"--he smiled upon Caney and Weir--"because they are suffering from the results of an accident. In the mines, as I hear. Mining is a dangerous business. Very. Sometimes a man is just one-sixteenth of a second slow--and it gets him trouble.

I understand, Mr. Hales, that you three gentlemen were together when you found the murdered man?"

"Yes."