THE VERDICT OF THE COURT
"I charge this young man, Stacy Brown, with having violated the game
laws by killing a bull moose down in Moquin Valley on the sixteenth
day of June," announced the warden.
"What evidence have you of the fact?" demanded the justice.
"His own admissions."
"To whom?"
"Pretty nearly every person in the village. He told them all about
it at the hotel. Word was brought to me and I went there. He
repeated his story to me in great detail."
"What was done with the carcass?" demanded the justice.
"Part of it was eaten, the rest buried, according to the boy's
statement."
"Did he take the antlers?"
"No, the antlers were buried. It seems the guide of the party was to
return later and get the antlers out, after the season opens in
October."
"Who was the guide?"
"Cale Vaughn. He is at home laid up with a broken ankle, else I
should have had him here to give evidence, and perhaps to answer for
the killing of the moose."
"He had nothing to do with the killing, did he?"
"Not according to the boy's story."
"Then this court has nothing to do with Cale Vaughn in the present
issue. The question is, did the accused kill a moose on the date
mentioned in the complaint? I will hear from some of our citizens.
Did any other person present in this court hear the statements
attributed to the boy Brown?"
Several voices answered in the affirmative. The justice called three
men to the stand, one after the other. Each told the same story, the
Pony Rider Boys listening with close attention.
"Stacy didn't leave much to the imagination, did he?" whispered Tad
in the ear of Ned Rector.
"I should say he didn't. But this must be another moose that he is
talking about. This a brand-new story we are hearing."
"It's the same old moose, but with new trimmings," answered Tad.
The evidence of the villagers fully confirmed what Jed Whitman had
said; in fact, it was wholly convincing. During all the talking
Chunky had stood before the deal table behind which sat the justice,
the boy twisting and untwisting his weather-worn sombrero, now and
then gazing about him with wide, soulful eyes.
"Reminds me of a yearling calf about to be turned into veal,"
muttered Ned. Squire Halliday heard the whisper, though not catching
the words, and threatened to eject the party from the room if anyone
spoke without being asked.
"Stacy Brown, stand up!" commanded the squire.
"I--I am standing up," stammered Chunky. "I've been standing up all
the time."
"Silence!"
Chunky shrank within himself.
"The accused will now give his version of the affair," announced the
justice.
The accused grew red in the face, but did not speak.
"Give your testimony."
"Tell the court your side of the story," directed Jed.
"I--I didn't mean to do it," stammered the fat boy.
"Then you admit it?" snapped the squire.
"I--I had to do it, or he would have killed me," protested the fat
boy.
"Explain."
"I was standing against a tree. I looked up and saw that big thing
standing in front of me. I was scared stiff--"
"Moderate your language, young man," commanded the court. "A
respectful attitude must be maintained toward this court, or the
offender will be severely punished. Proceed."
"He came for me with his head down. I fell over. He butted his head
against the tree where I had been standing. Then he fell over, too.
I guess the bump must have given him a headache for he didn't get up.
I got to my feet and saw him lying there. Then I happened to think
of my knife. I jumped in and cut his throat. You see, I was
excited."
"Ah!" breathed the court.
"Yes, sir," exclaimed Stacy, warming to his subject. "I cut that
moose's throat. I almost cut his head off. I wasn't a bit afraid of
that fellow with a back like a giraffe, and ears like a mullen leaf."
"You were not afraid," nodded the justice.
"No, sir, I wasn't. Why, when I first set eyes on him, I just went
for him like this." Stacy squared off, and swinging his arms he
advanced, sidestepped and ducked. "No, sir. I wasn't afraid. I'm
not afraid of any animal that runs on four legs. I made up my mind
that he was going to be mine. I wanted a piece of steak from that
old moose."
"You could have got away from him, had you wished, could you not?"
questioned the justice.
"Got away from him? Of course I could. But why should I want to get
away? I wanted him, and I got him."
"Just so," answered the justice dryly. "Who are the members of your
party?"
Stacy named them, pointing to each one, the justice eyeing them
frowningly. Tad had groaned when Stacy told his story--his second
story. He saw that the boy had made his own case as bad as it could
be made, through his desire to glorify himself.
"Thaddeus Butler, stand up!" commanded the justice. "What do you know
about this case, young man?" he demanded.
"No more than you already have heard, sir."
"Were you a witness to the killing?"
"No, sir."
"When was your attention first attracted to it?"
"When I heard my companion call out."
"Was the moose dead when you reached the scene?"
"Practically."
"Brown had killed it?"
"I supposed so."
"What did he tell you?"
"Something like what he has told to you. I guess the main facts were
somewhat similar," answered Tad with a faint smile.
"You ate some of the meat?"
"We did."
"Did your guide, Cale Vaughn, approve of what had been done?"
"He did not. He said it was against the law to kill moose at this
time of the year."
"Did he bury the antlers, proposing to return later and get them?"
"We buried the antlers, sir. The moose was dead. No further harm
could be done, it seemed to me."
"No, you are right. You had already done quite enough. You had
violated the law. You could violate it no further except by killing
another moose or a deer. That will be all. Professor Zepplin, stand
up. You are in charge of this party, are you not?"
"Yes, sir."
"Do you think you are doing your duty as a law-abiding citizen by
permitting one under your charge to violate one of our most sacred
laws?"
The Professor's whiskers bristled.
"I do not see how I could have prevented this, sir."
"A proper supervision of your party surely would have kept them from
breaking the laws, no matter how lawless--"
"My young men are not lawless, sir," retorted Professor Zepplin
indignantly. "They are most respectable, law-abiding young men. What
occurred was accidental. I am thoroughly convinced of that.
Statements to the contrary are untrue, and--"
"Silence!" thundered Squire Halliday.
"I demand the right to be heard in this matter. If we cannot get
justice in this court we shall seek it elsewhere. My young men have
done nothing to warrant this high-handed proceeding. One of my party
was attacked by an angry beast. He defended himself to the best of
his ability. Had he not killed the moose the probability is that the
beast would have killed him. Even had this not been the case one or
the other of us would have been obliged to shoot the moose to protect
ourselves."
The Professor was angry and made no attempt to disguise his feelings.
He considered the detention of Stacy Brown a high-handed proceeding
and he resented it.
"I have nothing more to say at the present time. I may have occasion
to remark further at another time," was the way Professor Zepplin
wound up.
"The case appears plain enough. I shall have to give the young man
the limit of the law. I am sorry that there is a limit," said the
court.
"What? You are going to punish him?" demanded the Professor,
bristling.
"Certainly. He admits killing the moose, does he not?"
"Yes," assented the Professor.
"Then I have no alternative. I must pronounce sentence."
Stacy's face grew suddenly pale.
"Stacy Brown, I fine you one hundred dollars and costs. The costs
will probably reach twenty-five dollars. Pay your fine or take a
jail sentence, whichever you may prefer."
"Oh, help!" moaned the fat boy, gazing about him helplessly.