HAMMER JONES
The jurymen at once gathered about the foreman; but the consultation was
brief. In less than ten minutes the foreman signified that the verdict
was ready.
"Sheriff," the alcalde's lips were tight-drawn and his face whitened as
he spoke, "bring the prisoners forward to hear the verdict of the jury."
The jury now stood together in line, on the right of the alcalde. The
foreman stood a pace in front of this line.
The sheriff led Thure and Bud directly up in front of the line and
within a couple of paces of the foreman; and there he halted the
prisoners to await the giving of the verdict.
For a minute there was absolute silence, as the prisoners stood thus
before the jury. The surrounding crowd forgot to breathe. It seemed, for
a moment, as if the alcalde could not ask the fateful questions; but, at
last, his tight-drawn lips parted.
"Gentlemen of the jury, are you ready to render your verdict?" he asked.
"We are ready," answered the foreman.
"Gentlemen of the jury, you may state your verdict."
The foreman's eyes faltered and turned from the faces of the prisoners.
"Guilty of the crime as charged," he said, and closed his lips tightly,
and turned his head away.
The great crowd breathed again; and an ominous, deep-toned, shuddering
murmur arose from its depths, as all eyes turned toward the alcalde. It
now became his duty to sentence the prisoners; and, in accordance with
the verdict just rendered, he could pronounce but one sentence--hanging.
For a full minute the alcalde stood straight and silent. He realized to
its full the awful irrevocableness of the sentence he was about to
pronounce, and a shuddering horror shook his soul. Never before had he
felt like this when pronouncing a similar sentence. The sight of those
two, white, staring, boyish faces had unmanned him--yet he must do his
duty.
"Thure Conroyal, Bud Randolph--" His voice was clear and firm and the
eyes he turned on the prisoners stern and steady--"a just and impartial
jury have found you guilty of the horrible crime of murder; and it now
becomes my awful duty to pronounce your sentence. Stand forth and
receive your sentence."
As Thure and Bud turned their white faces toward the alcalde and stepped
forth to receive their sentence, a man, almost a giant in size, who had
just pushed himself through the crowd to the inner edge of the circle,
uttered an exclamation of surprise and horror; and, the next instant, he
had flung the men still standing between him and the open space around
the alcalde and the prisoners violently to one side, and, almost in a
bound, had reached the side of the alcalde.
"Great God in heaven, alcalde!" he roared. "What does this mean?" and he
stared from the face of the alcalde to the faces of the two boys, into
whose dulled eyes had suddenly leaped a great light at the sight of the
big man.
"Murder and hanging," answered the alcalde sternly. "The prisoners have
had a fair trial; the jury have pronounced them guilty; and I am about
to sentence them to be hanged."
"Murder! Hanged!" and the utter, unbelieving astonishment on the face of
the big man was good to see.
"It's a lie, a lie! We never killed the man! Oh, Ham, we never killed
the man! You, surely, will believe us!" and Thure and Bud both, with
faces white with excitement and hope, sprang eagerly to the side of the
big fellow.
"Shut up! Stand back!" and he pushed the boys away. "See here," and he
swung around in front of the alcalde, "you know me; an' you know I'd
never try tew save th' neck of no criminal. But I know them boys, know
their dads an' mas; an' I know they never committed no murder. Who seen
'em dew it? Whar are th' witnesses?" and his eyes glared around the
circle of tense faces.
"There they stand, Ham," and the alcalde pointed to the three witnesses,
who at the sudden appearance of Hammer Jones, the big friend of the two
boys, had involuntarily come together, as if for mutual defense; "and
each one of the three swore positively that he saw the boys kill the
man."
"Huh!" and, almost in a stride, Hammer Jones stood directly in front of
Bill Ugger; and, the instant his eyes looked closely into the face of
the man, his own face went white with wrath.
"Hello, Greaser Smith!" and the great hand fell on the shrinking
shoulder and gripped the coat collar tightly. "So you're one of th'
skunks that's a-tryin' tew git them tew boys hanged, be you? Rekerlect
that time down in Sante Fé, when you was a-goin' tew skin a nigger
alive, an' wanted tew kill tew boys for interferin'? Still up tew yur
boyish tricks, I see. Wal, I've still got th' same big foot that kicked
you intew th' mudpuddle; an' th' same big fist that smashed that nose of
yourn when you was a-tryin' tew kiss a Mexican gal against her will. An'
now you're a-tryin' tew have tew innocent boys hanged for a murder that
you probably did yurself," and Ham's eyes flamed. "You cowardly skunk!"
and, suddenly letting go of the coat collar, he took a quick step
backward, and swung up his great fist with all the strength of his
powerful right arm, striking the man squarely under the chin. The force
of the blow lifted Ugger, alias Greaser Smith, off his feet and hurled
him to the ground as senseless as a log.
"Now, we'll have a look at th' other witnesses," and Ham turned to the
cringing Quinley.
"Never seed you afore," he declared, as he looked into the pock-marked
face of the trembling man, whose terrified eyes were fixed on the huge
fist that had so summarily dealt with his big partner. "Wal, you are a
likely lookin' cuss tew be th' side partner of Greaser Smith. I reckon
you tew pull tewgether like tew mules. I'll have sumthin' special tew
say tew you 'bout this case, when I see who t'other witness is," and he
turned to the man with the broken arm, who had been looking excitedly
around, as if he were searching for an opening in the crowd through
which to escape and who now stood with his back toward Hammer Jones.
"Here, you," and Ham caught him by the shoulder and whirled him around,
"jest give me a sight of yur mug--wal, I'll be durned, if 'tain't
Skoonly!" and Ham's eyes widened with surprise and the angry glint in
them deepened, while the man under the grip of his big hand shook as if
he had an ague fit. "Here's matter for the alcalde. Come," and he
started toward the alcalde, dragging the man along with him.
So sudden had been Ham's appearance and so swift and unexpected were his
actions, that, at first, the great surrounding crowd had stood and
stared at him in astonishment, making no move; but, by now, they were
beginning to wake up to the fact that here was a man evidently bent on
defeating the ends of justice; and an angry growl, the growl of a mob, a
sound once heard that is never forgotten, rolled out from its midst. But
there were many men in that crowd who knew Hammer Jones, who had hunted
and trapped and fought Indians with him, who had seen him risk his life
fearlessly to save a comrade's life, and who never yet had known him to
do a dishonorable deed; and these men knew, that, if Hammer Jones said
that the prisoners were innocent, he had good reasons for saying it, and
they were ready to see that he had a chance to prove his statement; and
cries of: "Hurrah for Ham Jones!" "Give him a chance to prove what he
says!" "Hear! Hear! Hear! Ham Jones!" "He shall be heard!" mingled with
yells of: "String him up along with the boys!" "Bust his head!" "He's
trying to rescue the murderers!" and like cries of rage at this
unexpected interference.
But, before these two opposing forces could come to a clash, a tall
spare man, whose deep-set eyes, keen and piercing as a hawk's, shone out
of a weather-bronzed face, pushed himself hurriedly through the crowd
that was beginning to seethe around the open court-room beneath the
great evergreen oak, and hastened to the side of the alcalde.
"What is the trouble?" he demanded in a quiet authoritative tone of
voice.
The alcalde welcomed him with a glad smile of recognition; and, as
briefly as possible, told him what had occurred.
The man turned quickly and the keen eyes glanced, with a violent start
of recognition, for a moment into the faces of the two boys.
"My God, alcalde!" and he whirled about in front of the surprised
alcalde, "you were about to make a terrible mistake! I know these boys
well; and I know they never murdered a man.
"Men! Men! Hear me!" and he leaped lightly up on top of the barrel that
stood in front of the alcalde, his singularly clear and penetrating
voice reaching every ear in the crowd. "Men! Men! Hear me! A terrible
mistake has--"
"It's Fremont!" shouted someone. "Hurrah for Colonel Fremont! The man
who licked the Mexicans! The man who won California for us! Hurrah for
Colonel Fremont!"
The name acted like magic in quieting the fast-growing turbulence of the
crowd. There was not a man present who had not heard of the dauntless
young explorer, the bold soldier, the recent conqueror of California, to
whom more than to any other one man they owed the fact that the
gold-diggings were in the territory of the United States; and all wished
to see this remarkable man, all were ready to hear what he had to say.
As suddenly as it had begun, the violence of the crowd ceased and all
eyes were turned toward Fremont.
"Go ahead, Colonel!" shouted a rough voice. "Thar's enough of y'ur old
men here tew see that you git a fair hearin'."
"Thank you, gentlemen," and Fremont bowed. "The alcalde tells me," he
continued, after a moment's pause, "that you have tried those two boys,"
and he pointed to Thure and Bud, "for murder, have found them guilty,
and were about to hang them. I know these two young men, your prisoners,
well. I know their fathers, their brothers, have known them for years;
and so sure am I that you have made a terrible mistake, that I am ready,
personally, to stand accountable for them until their innocence has been
proven to your complete satisfaction."
"But, three men swore that they saw the prisoners kill the man,
Colonel!" called someone from the crowd. "This has been no mob trial;
but a regular court trial by jury; and the jury found them guilty,
unanimous."
"Where are those witnesses? Let us have a look at them?" demanded
Fremont.
"Here's one on 'em, Colonel," and the huge frame of Hammer Jones loomed
up in front of Fremont, with the trembling Skoonly still in the grip of
his right hand. "I swun, but I am glad tew see you right now," and
quickly shifting Skoonly to his left hand, he extended his right to
Fremont.
"Ham, Hammer Jones!" and Fremont gripped the extended hand with glad
cordiality. "It's like old times to see your face again. But this is no
time for idle talk," and his fine face hardened. "So that is one of the
witnesses against Thure and Bud," and his piercing eyes looked
searchingly into the face of Skoonly. "What did he swear to?" and
Fremont turned quickly to the alcalde.
"He swore," answered the alcalde, "that he saw the prisoners kill the
man three days ago in the Sacramento Valley--"
"Three days ago!" snorted Ham wrathfully. "He saw th' prisoners kill a
man three days ago in th' Sacermento Valley! Not unless he's got a
double-barreled long-shot gun ahind him that can shoot his body clean
from Hangtown tew th' Sacermento Valley in less time than I could take a
chaw of ter-backer; for three days ago I seen this identickle man,
Skoonly, run out of Hangtown for tryin' tew steal th' gold-dust of a
sick miner. S'cuse me for interrupting" and Ham turned his eyes, still
glinting with his honest wrath, to the alcalde.
"What!" and the alcalde's eyes brightened and his whole face lightened,
as if a great load had been suddenly lifted off his soul. "You saw this
man run out of Hangtown three days ago! The very time that he swore he
was on his way from San Francisco to the diggings! The very day that he
swore he saw the prisoners kill the miner in the Sacramento Valley!"
"Right. He sart'in was in Hangtown three days ago. I reckon I otter
know, seein' I was one on 'em tew help run him out. Ay, Skoonly," and
Ham jerked the cringing man around in front of the alcalde. "Now, what
might be th' trouble with that arm?" and he glared down at the bandaged
arm of Skoonly, who had submitted to all these indignities, almost
without a protest. He knew Hammer Jones.
"He said," answered the alcalde, "that his horse threw him and broke his
arm a little while before he saw the murder committed and that that was
why he had not gone to the help of the miner."
"Huh!" and again Ham snorted scornfully, then a sudden gleam came into
his eyes, and he turned quickly to the alcalde. "Supposing" he grinned,
"you have that broken arm investigated. 'Twouldn't s'prise me none tew
find it a durned good arm yit."
"Good!" and the alcalde smiled. "Skoonly can't object, because it will
be a strong point in his favor, if we find the arm really broken."
"But I do object," protested Skoonly emphatically, his face becoming
livid. "Th' pain'll be sumthin' awful; an' doc said that it mustn't be
taken out of the splints for a month on no account."
"Objection overruled," declared the alcalde, who had been watching the
man's face. "Here," and he turned to the foreman of the jury, "this
appears like a proper point for you to investigate. I'll turn him over
to you. Be careful and not hurt the arm any more than you are compelled
to," and he smiled.
The crowd, which by this time had formed a close and deeply interested
circle around the dramatic characters in the little drama that was here
being enacted, watched with tense and grim faces, the foreman, aided by
a couple of his fellow jurymen, slowly unwind the bandages from
Skoonly's arm. If they had been fooled, if they had been led by false
testimony almost to hang two innocent men, nay, boys, their wrath
against the false accusers would be sudden and terrible.
Skoonly yelled and squirmed, when they began unwinding the bandages from
his arm, as if the action caused him the most intense pain, and begged
them to stop, while his face grew so white that even Ham himself began
to fear that the arm, at least, bore no false testimony; but the
unwinding went steadily on.
And, lo and behold! when the last bandage was off, there lay the arm,
sound of bone, and without even a bruise or discoloration along its
whole length!
"Wal, I'll be durned! Jest as I thought! The cur! An' that is th' kind
of evidence you was a-go-in' tew hang them boys on!" and Ham's angry
eyes swept the circle of surrounding faces.
A murmur, that swiftly swelled into a roar of hundreds of angry voices,
broke from the surrounding crowd, when Ham's testimony and the result of
the examination of Skoonly's bandaged arm became known.
"A rope! Get a rope! Hang him!" yelled a hoarse voice; and the cry was
taken up by hundreds of voices; and the jam of enraged men pressed
closer and closer to the cowering man, whose face grew livid with fear,
as he glared wildly around, seeking some means of escape. But there was
none; and despair and a great dread, the dread of a sudden and frightful
death, took possession of his soul.
"Save me! Save me!" he yelled, throwing himself at Fremont's feet. "I
did not mean tew git th' boys hanged. They, Bill an' Spike, told me
'twas jest tew scare them. They was a-tryin' tew frighten th' boys intew
doin' sumthin' for them--Oh-h-h, don't let them git me! Save me!" and he
clutched Fremont's legs with both his quivering hands, as the roar of
the crowd became louder and more threatening.
"Quick," and Fremont bent over him, "will you tell all, all that you
know of this horrible affair, if we will save your neck?"
"Yes! Yes!" eagerly agreed the terror-stricken man. "I'll tell
ever'thing! Afore God I'll tell ever'thing! It's Bill an' Spike who is
responsible, not me. It's them you want."
"Men," and Fremont again leaped up on top of the barrel, both hands
outstretched for silence. "Listen, men, listen!"
For a minute the roar of the crowd continued, and then swiftly subsided,
as all eyes caught sight of the tall figure of Fremont standing on the
barrel top.
"Make your words few and to the point, Colonel. This is no time for
speech-making," warned a voice from the crowd. "We want to get hold of
the skunk who was willing to falsely swear away the lives of two boys."
"My words will be few and to the point," Fremont began, his clear
penetrating voice reaching every ear in the crowd. "Skoonly will confess
everything, if you will spare his neck. He appears to have been but the
tool of the other two men; and we will need his testimony to make out a
case against them and to prove to the satisfaction of all, the innocence
of the two boys. Under these circumstances, it would seem to be best to
allow him to go free, providing he makes a clean breast of everything he
knows concerning this case."
"And further providin'," supplemented Ham, "that he be warned never
ag'in tew show his cowardly face in Sacermento City or any minin'-camp
in Calaforny, under penalty of instant hangin'."
"An' that he be given a hoss-licken, jest afore lettin' him go," added a
roughly dressed miner, standing near the inner edge of the circle.
Growlingly, like a hungry dog driven from a bone, the crowd at length
agreed to this disposal of Skoonly; and the wretched man, with much
faltering and many terrified glances around the enclosing circle of grim
faces, told how, for a thousand dollars in gold-dust, he had agreed to
help Quinley and Ugger out with his testimony, if they needed it; how he
and the two scoundrels had planned out the whole thing the night before
and were on the lookout for the boys that morning; how he had remained
in a near-by saloon, with his manufactured broken arm all ready, waiting
for a summons from the two men; and how, at last, the summons had come
and he had given in his testimony, according to agreement. He declared
that the two men had told him that they only wished to frighten the two
boys into giving up something, he did not know what, that really
belonged to them, and had assured him there would be no danger of
getting the boys hanged, that they would be sure to yield before it got
to that point. About the murder of the miner he knew nothing, except
that Spike Quinley and Bill Ugger had told him that they had killed the
man themselves, and had showed him the money-belt, still heavy with
gold-dust, that they had taken from him--
"Great guns!" broke in Ham excitedly, at this moment, "if we ain't plum
forgot them tew villains," and he made a mad break through the crowd in
the direction of the spot where he had left Quinley and Ugger.
In an instant the wildest excitement prevailed; and hundreds of men were
rushing about excitedly, looking for the two scoundrels. But Quinley and
Ugger were wise in their wickedness, and seeing, with fear-enlightened
eyes, the results of the advent of Hammer Jones and Colonel Fremont, had
taken advantage of the excitement attending the examination of Skoonly,
to disappear so suddenly and completely, that, although Sacramento City
was searched all that day and that night, as with a fine-toothed comb,
not a sign nor hair of either man could be found; and the enraged crowd
had to be satisfied with giving Skoonly the promised "hoss-licken," and
running him out of town the next morning, with a warning never to show
his cowardly face on their streets again, unless he was looking for the
job of dancing the hangman's hornpipe at the end of a rope.
The excitement and the confusion and the swift scattering of the crowd,
attending the search for the two scoundrels, of course ended the trial
of Thure Conroyal and Bud Randolph for the murder of John Stackpole; and
they stood free and worthy men in the sight of all people once more--and
with the skin map still in their possession.
"Great Moses! but I was glad to see you, Ham!" declared Thure, as he
gripped his big friend's hand, after some of the excitement had quieted
down.
"Glad! Glad is no name for my feelings, when I saw your great body loom
up by the side of the alcalde," and Bud gripped his other hand.
"I reckon you was some pleased tew see me," grinned back Ham, "both on
you," and the hearty grip of his big hands made both boys wince.
"Colonel, Colonel Fremont!" and Thure broke away from Ham's hand to rush
up to Fremont, who was talking with the alcalde. "I--we can never thank
you enough for coming so splendidly to our help."
"Then do not try," smiled back Fremont. "My boy," and he gripped Thure's
hand, as his face sobered, "I have not forgotten a certain night, some
three years ago, near the shores of Lake Klamath, when an Indian stood
with bow bended and arrow aimed at my breast; nor the skill and
quickness of the boy, whose bullet struck and killed the Indian before
his fingers could loose the arrow.[2] I fancy that I have not yet
discharged my full debt to that boy."
[Footnote 2: A full account of this incident, the saving of Fremont's
life by Thure, is given in the preceding book of this series, _Fighting
with Fremont_.]
"That--that was nothing," stammered Thure, his face flushing with
pleasure to think that Fremont still remembered the incident. "But
this--Think of the terrible death you helped save us from!" and Thure
shuddered.
"Yes, it was terrible," and Fremont's eyes rested kindly on the face of
the boy, "but, think no more about it now," he added quickly, as he saw
how swiftly the color had fled from his face at the thought of the
dreadful peril he had just escaped. "Come," and he turned briskly to
Ham, "I wish you, and the two boys, and the alcalde, if he will do us
the honor, to dine with me. I have an hour at my disposal before I must
leave the city; and I know of no better way of spending it than in your
company. Besides, I am hungry, and I am sure you are, also, after all
this excitement, now happily over. So, fall in," and he smiled, as he
gave the once familiar command.
The alcalde begged to be excused, on account of other matters that
demanded his immediate attention; but Ham and the two boys, with
answering-smiles on their faces, "fell in"; and, under the command of
Fremont, charged down on the City Hotel, where their generous host
entertained them lavishly on the costly viands of that expensive
hostelry, while he and Ham talked of old times, of the perils and
hardships and joys they had shared on those wonderful exploring
expeditions that had brought a world-wide fame to the then young
lieutenant, and the two delighted boys listened, until it became time
for Colonel Fremont to go.
"Our dads will never forget what you have done for us, Colonel," Thure
said, as he grasped Fremont's hand in farewell.
"I may soon put them to the test," smiled back Fremont, "by giving them
an opportunity to vote for me, when we get our state goverment
organized."
"You sure can count on all our votes," declared Thure eagerly; "that is,
as soon as Bud and I are old enough to vote."
"Thank you," laughed Fremont, and added quickly, his face sobering. "And
it is an honor to any man to receive the votes of men like your fathers
and Ham here and you two boys, even in prospect, an honor, that, believe
me, I appreciate," and the light in his forceful eyes deepened, as if he
were seeing visions of the future. "But, I must be off. Remember me to
your fathers and to all the others," and he sprang lightly on to the
back of his horse, near which he had been standing during these words,
and galloped off down the street toward the ferry.