THE TRIAL
The meeting took place in the Bella Union, and the place was crowded to
the doors. All the roughs in town were on hand, fully armed, swearing,
swaggering, and brandishing their weapons. They had much to say by way
of threat, for they did not hesitate to show their sympathies. As I
looked upon their unexpected numbers and listened to their wild talk, I
must confess that my heart failed me. Though they had not the advantage
in numbers, they knew each other; were prepared to work together; were,
in general, desperately courageous and reckless, and imbued with the
greatest confidence. The decent miners, on the other hand, were
practically unknown to each other; and, while brave enough and hardy
enough, possessed neither the recklessness nor desperation of the
others. I think our main weakness sprang from the selfish detachment
that had prevented us from knowing whom to trust.
After preliminary organization a wrangle at once began as to the form of
the trial. We held very strongly that we should continue our usual
custom of open meeting; but Morton insisted with equal vehemence that
the prisoners should have jury trial. The discussion grew very hot and
confused. Pistols and knives were flourished. The chair put the matter
to a vote, but was unable to decide from the yells and howls that
answered the question which side had the preponderance. A rising vote
was demanded.
"Won't they attempt a rescue?" I asked of Danny Randall, under cover of
the pandemonium. "They could easily fight their way free."
He shook his head.
"That would mean outlawing themselves. They would rather get clear under
some show of law. Then they figure to run the camp."
The vote was understood to favour a jury trial.
"That settles it," said Danny; "the poor damn fools."
"What do you mean?" I asked him.
"You'll see," said he.
In the selection of the jury we had the advantage. None of the roughs
could get on the panel to hang the verdict, for the simple reason that
they were all too well known. The miners cautiously refused to endorse
any one whose general respectability was not known to them. I found
myself one of those selected.
A slight barrier consisting of a pole thrown across one corner of the
room set aside a jury box. We took our places therein. Men crowded to
the pole, talking for our benefit, cursing steadily, and uttering the
most frightful threats.
I am not going to describe that most turbulent afternoon. The details
are unessential to the main point, which was our decision. Counsel was
appointed by the court from among the numerous ex-lawyers. The man who
took charge of the defence was from New York, and had served some ten
years in the profession before the gold fever took him. I happen to know
that he was a most sober-minded, steady individual, not at all in
sympathy with the rougher elements; but, like most of his ilk, he
speedily became so intensely interested in plying his profession that he
forgot utterly the justice of the case. He defended the lawless element
with all the tricks at his command. For that reason Woodruff was
prevented from testifying at all, except as to his ownership of the
cattle; so that the effect of his pathetic story was lost. Dr. Rankin
had no chance to appear. This meeting should have marked the awakening
of public spirit to law and order; and if all the elements of the case
had been allowed to come before the decent part of the community in a
common-sense fashion, I am quite sure it would have done so. But two
lawyers got interested in tangling each other up with their
technicalities, and the result was that the real significance of the
occasion was lost to sight. The lawyer for the defence, pink and warm
and happy, sat down quite pleased with his adroitness. A few of us, and
the desperadoes, alone realized what it all meant.
We retired to Randall's little room to deliberate. Not a man of the
twelve of us had the first doubt as to the guilt of the prisoners. We
took a ballot. The result was eleven for acquittal and one for
conviction. I had cast the one vote for conviction.
We argued the matter for three hours.
"There's no doubt the men are guilty," said one. "That isn't the
question. The question is, dare we declare it?"
"It amounts to announcing our own death sentence," argued another.
"Those fellows would stand together, but who of the lot would stand by
us? Why, we don't even know for sure who would be with us."
"This case ought never to have been tried by a jury," complained a third
bitterly. "It ought to have been tried in a miners' court; and if it
hadn't been for those soft heads who were strong for doing things
'regularly' instead of sensibly, we'd have had it done that way."
"Well," said an older man gravely, "I agree to that. I am going to be
governed in my decision not by the merits of the case, but by the fact
that I have a family back in the States. I consider my obligations to
them greater than to this community."
I reasoned with them for a long time, bringing to bear all the arguments
I had heard advanced at various times during our discussions in Danny
Randall's back room. At last, seeing I could in no manner shake their
resolution, I gave in. After all, I could not blame them. The case was
to them only one of cattle stealing; they had no chance to realize that
it was anything more. Without solicitation on my part they agreed to
keep secret my opposition to the verdict of acquittal.
Our decision was greeted by wild yells and the discharge of pistols on
the part of the rough element. The meeting broke up informally and in
confusion. It would have been useless for the presiding officer to have
attempted to dismiss court. The mob broke through en masse to
congratulate the prisoners. Immediately the barkeepers were overwhelmed
with work. Here and there I could see a small group of the honest men
talking low-voiced, with many shakes of the head. Johnny, Old, and Cal,
who had attended with his arm slung up, had their heads together in a
corner. Danny Randall, who, it will be remembered, had not appeared
publicly in any way, stood at his customary corner of the bar watching
all that was going on. His gamblers were preparing to reopen the
suspended games.
After conferring together a moment the three express messengers made
their way slowly across the room to the bar. I could not see exactly
what happened, but heard the sudden reverberations of several pistol
shots. The lamps and glasses rattled with the concussion, the white
smoke of the discharges eddied and rose. An immediate dead silence fell,
except for the sounds made by the movements of those seeking safe
places. Johnny and his two friends shoulder to shoulder backed slowly
away toward the door. Johnny and Old presented each two pistols at the
group around the bar, while Cal, a revolver in his well hand, swept the
muzzle slowly from side to side. Nobody near the bar stirred. The
express messengers backed to the door.
"Keep your heads inside," warned Johnny clearly. On the words they
vanished.
Immediately pandemonium broke loose. The men along the bar immediately
became very warlike; but none of those who brandished pistols tried to
leave the building. From the swing and sway of the crowd, and the babel
of yells, oaths, threats, and explanations I could make nothing. Danny
Randall alone of all those in the room held his position unmoved. At
last a clear way offered, so I went over to him.
"What's happened?" I shouted at him through the din.
Danny shrugged his shoulders.
"They killed Carhart and Malone," Danny replied curtly.
It seemed, I ascertained at last, that the three had advanced and opened
fire on the two ex-prisoners without warning.
As soon as possible I made my escape and returned to our own camp. There
I found the three of them seated smoking, their horses all saddled,
standing near at hand.
"Are they coming our way?" asked Johnny instantly.
I told them that I had seen no indications of a mob.
"But why did you do it?" I cried. "It's an open challenge! They'll get
you boys now sure!"
"That remains to be seen," said Johnny grimly. "But it was the only
thing to do. If Carhart and Malone had ever been given time to report on
our confab the other evening, you and Danny Randall and Dr. Rankin would
have been marked men. Now no one knows of your connection with this
matter."
"But they'll be after you----"
"They were after us in any case," Johnny pointed out. "Don't deceive
yourself there. Now you keep out of this and let us do it."
"I reckon we can handle this bunch," said Old.
"Lord! what a lot of jellyfish!" cried Johnny disgustedly. "Danny was
right enough about them. But let me state right here and once again that
practical jokes on immigrants are going to be mighty unhealthy here."