Everything seemed changed now. My ma wasn't the same, the house wasn't
the same; Myrtle was talkin' about girls and boys I didn't know. Maud
Fisher had come back from Chicago where she had visited and Myrtle was
goin' up the hill to see her. Maud lived in a great brick house that
looked like a castle. Her pa was one of the richest men in town and they
lived splendid.
And Mitch was changed too. We hadn't found the treasure; we had been
cheated out of our trip to St. Louis, for they wouldn't let us go back
to Havaner to get the boat; we hadn't seen Tom Sawyer. And Mr. Miller
had told Mitch a lot of stories of Shakespeare and had set him to
readin', and Mitch had read a lot of it, and told me about Hamlet who
lost his father, and killed his step-father, and saw his mother drink
poison; and had lost his girl too, and lost everything. And Mitch says,
"Pa says that is about the way. This life is sorrow, you always lose,
you never win, and if you do, it's worse'n if you lost; and you're just
bein' put through a kind of schoolin' for somethin' else. For if you
have trouble, then you are made wise and kind, maybe, or at least you
can be; and so there's something after this life where you can use your
mind as it has been made better by this life."
Well, you see, I couldn't believe this. How about John Armstrong and
Col. Lambkin, and the captain? Warn't they happy? Wasn't my grandma
happy and my grandpa? There must be a way. Some folks must have luck,
even if others don't; so I did my best to cheer Mitch up.
But now we was separated a good deal. For to watch me, pa took me to his
office where I had to sit all day mostly, and tell where he was, if I
knew; and run errands, go over to the clerk's office for papers. And
just now there was a good deal to do for court was comin' on, and they
were getting ready to try Temple Scott for killin' Joe Rainey.
At last the judge came. He came right in to see my pa. He lived way off
in Jerseyville in a different county. I don't believe Mitch and me was
ever any gladder to see each other than pa and the judge. They talked
politics and cases and about makin' speeches to juries; and they agreed
that when you get up to talk you don't know what you are goin' to say,
but you get started and you know when you get the swing, and are really
cuttin' ice. So the judge was invited to our house for dinner, and ma
bought a new lamp for the center table on account of it; and Myrtle was
all dressed up, and so was I. And ma put on a lot of airs, stretchin'
things a lot about her folks and her do'n's in society and pa's
wonderful speeches--some the judge hadn't heard. And pa told some
stories that I had heard him tell before; and when the judge spoke,
every one was quiet and scared like, even pa seemed a little
embarrassed. The judge asked me if I was goin' to be a lawyer, and I
said no, a steamboat captain. Then they all laughed and pa said:
"There's a story about that that I'll tell you, judge." Then I blushed
and Myrtle giggled and ma looked mad, because she was really ashamed of
me.
And finally the court opened. I went up to see what it was like. There
sat the judge on a high seat. And different lawyers would get up and
say, "Docket number 8020" or somethin'. And the judge would turn over
the leaves of a book and say, "Kelly _vs._ Graves," or somethin' and
wait. Then the lawyer would say, "Default of Nora Kennedy" or somethin'.
Then the judge would write, and so on. And my pa acted as if he didn't
know the judge at all. He always said "your honor," and the judge didn't
call him Hardy like he did at our house, but always Mr. Kirby. Nobody
could tell they knew each other.
The town was chuck full of people. Watermelon rinds was all over the
court house yard and there was lots of fights and men gettin' drunk; and
after a few days, the court room was full of people watchin' the court
proceedings. It was lots better than a theater, though not so good as a
circus. I got hold of Mitch finally and he came and sat with me. He got
interested after a while, and whatever he got interested in, he watched
and liked better than anybody. But one day when we was there my pa got
up and told the judge he was ready to try Temple Scott for killin' Joe
Rainey. Then a little man, wearin' nose glasses, awful cunnin' lookin',
with a soft voice, which he could make deep when he wanted to, said he
was ready. He was Major Abbott, Temple Scott's lawyer. And so the case
started.
It went on several days with lots of witnesses testifyin'--all the
people who practiced "Pinafore" that night told about hearing the shots.
And this little lawyer whose name was Major Abbott, as I said, asked
every one, "How many shots did you hear?" Most of 'em said two; but some
said they couldn't remember; and he made some of 'em say they heard
three shots. They had found two bullets in Joe Rainey, and the point
seemed to be that the other shot was fired by Joe Rainey; for pa said to
me one day when we was walkin' home at noon that the defense was that
Joe Rainey fired at Temple Scott first.
[Illustration: Major Abbott]
Then Major Abbott cross-questioned the witnesses about whether they saw
Joe Rainey come into the house and go out just before he was killed. And
most of 'em said yes. And then he tried to get 'em to say that they saw
Joe Rainey go up-stairs and come down and go out; but none of 'em would
say this. Then he'd ask 'em if they didn't hear Joe Rainey say, "Where's
my pistol?" speakin' to his wife; and if she didn't say, "You can't have
it," and take hold of him, and if he didn't pull away from her and go
up-stairs and come down; and then if they didn't hear a shot as if it
was fired from the porch followed by two shots. But he couldn't get the
witnesses to say this, though he asked a lot of questions and worried
'em and tangled 'em about different things. And once in a while my pa
would say, "I object, your honor." And the judge would say mostly
"sustained," and Major Abbott would say, "Your honor will allow me an
exception." "Let it be noted," said the judge, and so on.
All the time Mitch kept twistin' in his seat and sayin', "He's tryin' to
get 'em to lie. That's what he's doin'."
[Illustration: Mrs. Rainey in Court]
Mrs. Rainey was in the court, sittin' behind the railing. Temple Scott
sat behind Major Abbott at the trial table. My pa was on the other side,
and Sheriff Rutledge kept runnin' in and out, bringin' in witnesses.
They had Temple Scott's pistol there with two chambers empty, and the
bullets which had been taken out of Joe Rainey's body, the same size as
in Temple Scott's pistol. And they had a statement which Joe Rainey had
made just before he died in which he swore that he didn't have no
pistol, that he came just inside the door, thinkin' he would go to bed
and leave Temple Scott, and then he came right out in order to quiet him
and tell him he didn't mean anything and was his friend.
"That's the truth," says Mitch, "and I'll bet on it." This statement of
Joe Rainey said that they had been playing cards and was friendly till
they got out on the street, when he asked Scott not to come around his
house any more, that he liked him and could be friends with him, but he
didn't want him to visit any more with Mrs. Rainey. Mitch says: "I heard
pa and ma talk about this and they said Temple Scott wanted to marry
Mrs. Rainey." Well, that seemed to kind of get in the case without
anybody testifyin' to it, exactly. The court room seemed to breathe that
idea, and on the streets it was talked.
Finally Major Abbott stated his side of the case, and he put Mrs. Rainey
on the witness stand, and she said Joe Rainey had come in the house and
asked for his pistol, that she took hold of him and said, "You mustn't
get your pistol," that he tore away from her and went up-stairs; and
came runnin' down, that he went out, that she heard a shot, and then
later two shots of a different sound, that they all rushed to the door
and found Joe Rainey lyin' on the porch floor bleedin' and unconscious.
[Illustration: On the Street It Was Talked]
And my pa cross-questioned her and she rared up and said that Joe Rainey
had brought Temple Scott to her house in the first place and introduced
him and wanted him to come, and had him to meals, and that this talk of
her carin' for Temple Scott was a base slander and the work of mean
enemies. And that no gentleman would hint of such a thing. And as far as
her testifyin' at all in the case, she wanted to see justice done, and
to do it she went through this disagreeable experience, which was enough
to kill anybody. Finally pa asked: "Where is Joe Rainey's pistol?" And
she got mad and said, "I don't know where it is--nobody knows."
"Nobody knows," my pa asked quiet like.
"Nobody that I know of," she answered.
"Oh," said my pa.
Then Major Abbott sneered: "You got what you didn't want then." And the
judge said: "Gentlemen, you must be courteous to each other. There has
been entirely too much personalities in this case and it must stop."
Major Abbott got up to argue. The judge says: "There's nothing before
the court, Major Abbott. Proceed with the case."
And Major Abbott said again: "Your honor will allow me an exception."
"Let it be noted," said the judge, and so on.
Other witnesses testified for Temple Scott and it all came to the same
thing. There was three shots, and some testified that Joe Rainey had
threatened Temple Scott. So pa made these witnesses or most of 'em say
that they had been threatened too by Joe Rainey, and didn't believe he
meant it, and that they warn't afraid of him. Finally Major Abbott got
up and said: "We had a witness who saw Joe Rainey's pistol lying by the
side of the porch, where it had evidently fallen out of his hand. But he
has disappeared and we can't find where he is. With that out of the
case, the defense rests."
Mitch began to get more and more nervous and to kind of talk to himself.
Then the judge asked, "Major Abbott, did you subpoena this witness?"
"No," said Major Abbott. "We should have done so, I confess, and I
intended to. But I talked to him, he seemed entirely willing to testify;
nevertheless I intended to subpoena him the first of the month and got
ready to do so, and found that he had disappeared."
"What's his name?" said my pa real quick.
"His name," said Major Abbott in a deep voice and very calm, "is Harold
Carman." That was the man who was takin' the part of one of the sailors
in "Pinafore"; and sure enough he had disappeared and no one knew where.
So Major Abbott sat down in a satisfied way. Mitch says, "Why don't
Temple Scott go on and tell that Joe Rainey shot at him?" "He don't have
to," says I; "pa says no man has to testify against hisself, and you
can't criticize him for it."
"Against hisself," said Mitch. "Why if he, Joe Rainey, shot at him
first, he'd be testifyin' for hisself, and not against hisself. He
darn't testify," says Mitch. "It's a lie. Joe Rainey didn't shoot at
him. I can just see right through this case."
I believed Mitch, for besides everything else, he was the smartest boy I
ever knew.
Then the judge asked pa--"Any rebuttal?" And pa says, "Just a few
things, your honor, but it's now ten minutes to twelve, and near
adjournin' time, and if your honor will indulge me, I'd like to have
court adjourn now till one o'clock."
So the court said very well, and Sheriff Rutledge adjourned the court,
and all the people began to go out.
And then I see for the first time that mornin' that Mr. Miller was in
the court room. He rose up as my pa came down the aisle and spoke to
him, and they walked away together and up the hill, goin' home together
with Mitch and me follerin'. When we got to our house pa says, "I'm
goin' up to Mr. Miller's for dinner, you tell your ma." And they all
went away together, Mr. Miller, my pa, and Mitch.