Detective and mystery stories; West (U.S.) -- Fiction
"I couldn't help coming," said Helen. "I have a feeling that innocent
men are going to suffer a great injustice. Tell me, do you think they
have a chance of going free?"
"They may be held for trial," said Lowell. "No one knows what will be
brought up either for or against them in the meantime."
"But they should not spend so much as a day in jail," insisted Helen.
"They--"
Here she paused and looked over Lowell's shoulder, her expression
changing to alarm. The agent turned and beheld Bill Talpers near them,
his gaze fixed on the girl. Talpers turned away as Lowell escorted Helen
upstairs to the court-room, where he secured a seat for her.
As the prisoners were brought in Helen recognized the unfriendliness of
the general attitude of White Lodge toward them. Hostility was expressed
in cold stares and whispered comment.
The men afforded a contrasting picture. Fire Bear's features were pure
Indian. His nose was aquiline, his cheek-bones high, and his eyes black
and piercing, the intensity of their gaze being emphasized by the fever
which was beginning to consume him. His expression was martial. In his
football days the "fighting face" of the Indian star had often appeared
on sporting pages. He surveyed the crowd in the court-room with calm
indifference, and seldom glanced at the gray-bearded, benign-looking
judge.
Jim McFann, on the contrary, seldom took his eyes from the judge's face.
Jim was not so tall as Fire Bear, but was of wiry, athletic build. His
cheek-bones were as high as those of the Indian, but his skin was
lighter in color, and his hair had a tendency to curl. His sinewy hands
were clenched on his knees, and his moccasined feet crossed and
uncrossed themselves as the hearing progressed.
Each man testified briefly in his own behalf, and each, in Helen's
opinion, told a convincing story. Both admitted having been on the scene
of the crime. Jim McFann was there first. The half-breed testified that
he had been looking for a rawhide lariat which he thought he had dropped
from his saddle somewhere along the Dollar Sign road the day before. He
had noticed an automobile standing in the road, and had discovered the
body staked down on the prairie. In answer to a question, McFann
admitted that the rope which had been cut in short lengths and used to
tie the murdered man to the stakes had been the lariat for which he had
been searching. He was alarmed at this discovery, and was about to
remove the rope from the victim's ankles and wrists, when he had
descried a body of horsemen approaching. He had thought the horsemen
might be Indian police, and had jumped on his horse and ridden away,
making his way through a near-by gulch and out on the prairie without
being detected.
"Why were you so afraid of the Indian police?" was asked.
The half-breed hesitated a moment, and then said:
"Bootlegging."
There was a laugh in the court-room at this--a sharp, mirthless laugh
which was checked by the insistent sound of the bailiff's gavel.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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