Frontier and pioneer life -- West (U.S.) -- Fiction; Western stories
"Open your safe," said he, "and what then? Up steps old Mowry and says,
'I'll thank you to let my property alone.' Where's your proof? What word
did any of them drop that won't bear other constructions? Mowry's well
known to have money, and he has a right to give it to Jenks."
"If the gold could be identified?" I suggested.
"That's been all attended to," he answered, with increasing complacence.
"I'm obliged to you for your information, and in a less sure case I
might risk using it, but--why, see here; we've got 'em hands down!" And
he clapped me on the knee. "If I had met you last evening I was going to
tell you our campaign. Pidcock'll come first, of course, and his
testimony'll cover pretty much the whole ground. Then, you see, the
rest of you I'll use mainly in support. Sergeant Brown--he's very
strong, and the black woman, and you--I'll probably call you third or
fourth. So you'll be on hand sure now?"
Certainly I had no thought of being anywhere else. The imminence of our
trial was now heralded by the cook's coming to Rocklin's office punctual
to his direction, and after her Pidcock almost immediately. It was not
many minutes before the more important ones of us had gathered, and we
proceeded to court, once again a Combination Extraordinary--a spectacle
for Tucson. So much stir and prosperity had not blossomed in the town
for many years, its chief source of life being the money that Lowell
Barracks brought to it. But now its lodgings were crowded and its
saloons and Mexican dens of entertainment waked to activity. From a
dozing sunburnt village of adobe walls and almond-trees it was become
something like those places built in a single Western day of riot
extravagance, where corner lots are clamored for and men pay a dollar to
be shaved.
Jenks was before us in the room with his clients. He was practising what
I always think of as his celluloid smile, whispering, and all-hail with
everybody. One of the prisoners had just such another mustache as his
own, too large for his face; and this had led me since to notice a type
of too large mustaches through our country in all ranks, but of similar
men, who generally have either stolen something or lacked the
opportunity. Catching sight of me, Jenks came at once, friendly as you
please, shaking my passive hand, and laughing that we should meet again
under such circumstances.
"When we're through this nuisance," said he, "you must take dinner with
me. Just now, you understand, it wouldn't look well to see me hobnobbing
with a government witness. See you again!" And he was off to some one
else.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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