Frontier and pioneer life -- West (U.S.) -- Fiction; Western stories
He concluded with the
various alternatives of fact according to which the jury must find its
several possible verdicts. When he had finished, the room sat sullen and
still, and the twelve went out. I am told that they remained ten minutes
away. It seemed one to me.
When they had resumed their seats I noticed the same fishlike oracular
eye in most of them unchanged. "Not guilty," said the foreman.
"What!" shouted the judge, startled out of all judicial propriety. "None
of 'em?"
"Not guilty," monotonously repeated the foreman.
We were silent amid the din of triumph now raised by Tucson. In the
laughter, the hand-shaking, the shouting, and the jubilant pistol-shots
that some particularly free spirit fired in the old Cathedral Square, we
went to our dinner; and not even Stirling could joke. "There's a certain
natural justice done here in spite of them," he said. "They are not one
cent richer for all their looted twenty-eight thousand. They come out
free, but penniless."
"How about Jenks and that jury?" said I. And Stirling shrugged his
shoulders.
But we had yet some crowning impudence to learn. Later, in the street,
the officers and I met the prisoners, their witnesses, and their counsel
emerging from a photographer's studio. The Territorial Delegate had been
taken in a group with his acquitted thieves. The Bishop had declined to
be in this souvenir.
"That's a picture I want," said I. "Only I'll be sorry to see your face
there," I added to black curly.
"Indeed!" put in Jenks.
"Yes," said I. "You and he do not belong in the same class. By-the-way,
Mr. Jenks, I suppose you'll return their horses and saddles now?"
Too many were listening for him to lose his temper, and he did a sharp
thing. He took this public opportunity for breaking some news to his
clients. "I had hoped to," he said; "that is, as many as were not needed
to defray necessary costs. But it's been an expensive suit, and I've
found myself obliged to sell them all. It's little enough to pay for
clearing your character, boys."
They saw through his perfidy to them, and that he had them checkmated.
Any protest from them would be a confession of their theft. Yet it
seemed an unsafe piece of villany in Jenks.
"They look disappointed," I remarked. "I shall value the picture very
highly."
"If that's Eastern sarcasm," said Jenks, "it's beyond me."
"No, Mr. Jenks," I answered. "In your presence sarcasm drops dead. I
think you'll prosper in politics."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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