THE TESTIMONY OF BILL UGGER
Sacramento City at that date had a rude but effective government of its own. An alcalde and other city officers had been elected; and certain unwritten laws, for the protection of life and property, had been promulgated and were strictly enforced. Lynching, in the sense that we know it to-day, was almost unknown. There were no disorderly mobs, who, under the spurs of their own brutal passions, strung up their victims unheard and without even the semblance of a fair trial. Justice, if sudden, was usually careful to see that it was justice and not brutality that rendered the verdict. And yet, many of these early trials had the outward semblance of lynching-bees in the swift severity of their punishments. A murderer would be arrested, tried, convicted, and decently hanged, all before sundown of the same day. The mob spirit was there, but usually held in check by the sturdy manhood of the American miners, who had nearly all come from law abiding and law respecting communities.
This swift severity of Justice was, in a sense, compelled by the unusual, the almost unprecedented conditions surrounding life in a city born suddenly in a wilderness. There were few locks and bars and bolts, or, even, doors, in Sacramento City at that time; and large sums in gold and great values in goods were often left exposed and almost unprotected. The thief, under such circumstances, had to be dealt with severely and promptly; or the property of no one would be safe. There were no regularly established courts in the city to try criminals, no written code of laws to dictate methods of procedure, no court officials to enforce mandates, and no safe jails in which to confine prisoners. Under such circumstances the people had to form their own courts, make their own laws, and see that they were enforced; or have no laws; and the criminal had to be dealt with summarily. The thief was sometimes whipped, or, even, cropped, that is his ears were cut off, and he was always driven from the city, and warned not to come back under penalty of death. The murderer, when proven guilty to the satisfaction of the people, was always hanged. No prisoners were held. They were proven guilty and sentence pronounced and executed at once; or they were set free.
Such was Sacramento City in 1849, the Sacramento City in which Thure and Bud now found themselves under arrest for the horrible crime of murder, the most serious crime that can be charged against a human being anywhere, but rendered especially serious in the present case by the peculiar surrounding circumstances. In all the city, so far as either boy knew, they did not have a friend, or even an acquaintance, who could vouch for them—and yet, before the sun set that night, they must prove themselves innocent of the crime charged, or, in all human probability, be hanged!
The alcalde's office was small, only a few of the great crowd of men who had followed the sheriff and his prisoners could get inside of it; and, when the alcalde saw the size of the gathering outside of his office and learned the serious nature of the charge against the two boys, he at once ordered the "court" to be held under the big oak in the horse-market, where there would be room for all to see and hear how justice was dispensed. Accordingly all started at once for the horse-market, situated near the bottom of K Street, where an immense evergreen oak stood in the middle of the street, furnishing an agreeable shade for many feet around and a fittingly picturesque scene for the holding of such a trial as was about to take place.
The method of procedure, on arriving at the horse-market, was simple but effective. The alcalde took his station near the trunk of the great oak, and summoned the prisoners and their accusers before him, while the crowd gathered in a grim and stern-faced circle around this improvised courtroom.
"What is the crime the prisoners are charged with?" and the alcalde turned to the sheriff.
"Murder!" answered the sheriff briefly.
"Who makes the accusation?"
"Those two men standing there," and the sheriff indicated the big red-headed man with the broken nose and the small man with the pock-marked face, who now stood just behind the sheriff and his two prisoners.
"Stand forth by the side of the prisoners," commanded the alcalde.
The two men shuffled awkwardly forward and stood uneasily by the side of Thure and Bud, their eyes shifting restlessly from the face of the alcalde to the faces of the surrounding crowd.
For a couple or more minutes the alcalde studied the faces of the two boys and the faces of their two accusers in silence. Evidently he was endeavoring to form an opinion of the characters of the prisoners and their accusers; but, what that opinion was, his face did not betray.
"Why do you accuse these two young men of murder?" and the alcalde suddenly fixed his eyes upon the face of the man with a broken nose.
"Because I seen 'em do it," answered the man. "Me an' my pard, Spike, seen 'em do it. Ask him," and he turned to the small man, who stood close by his side.
"And you are both willing to make oath that you saw these two young men, who are little more than boys, commit the awful crime of murder?" the alcalde continued.
"Yes," promptly responded both men.
"Then, may God have mercy on your souls, if the accusations are false! What have you to say to the accusation? Guilty; or, not guilty?" and the alcalde turned abruptly to Thure and Bud.
"Not guilty," answered Thure, his face very white. "We—"
"That will do for the present," interrupted the alcalde. "Gentlemen, how shall the case be tried?" and he turned to the surrounding crowd of stern-faced men.
"Give 'em a jury, an' git a-goin'," called a rough voice impatiently.
"Do you wish a trial by jury?" and again the alcalde turned to Thure and Bud.
"Yes," answered both boys.
"The trial will be by jury," announced the alcalde. "I summon to act as this jury," and his eyes searched the circle of surrounding faces, as he slowly called out the names of twelve men, who, as their names were called, stepped forth and took their stations by the side of the alcalde and in front of the prisoners and their accusers.
When the twelve jurymen had been selected, all were solemnly sworn by the alcalde to render a true and just verdict, according to the evidence presented; and the trial of Thure and Bud for the murder of John Stackpole, the miner, was ready to begin.
During all this time Thure and Bud had been doing some very serious and some very rapid thinking. At first the suddenness and the unexpectedness of the rush of men upon them in the busy street, followed so swiftly by their arrest and the dreadful accusations of the two men, whom they had every reason to believe had committed the crime themselves, had almost completely benumbed their faculties; but this condition of mind had lasted only a short time, and long before they reached the place of trial their minds were busy with the dreadful problem of how to prove themselves innocent of the crime charged, when two men were ready to swear that they saw them commit the crime, and when they did not have, could not have, a single witness who could swear to the truthfulness of their statements concerning the miner's death. No one but themselves had seen him die; and, so far as they knew, no one but themselves and their accusers knew the cause of his death. If they only had time to send home—But, even if they had witnesses from home, what could they prove? Only that the two boys had brought the dead miner home and had buried him; and that would be no proof that they had not killed him and invented the story of the two robbers.
True, on their side, they could accuse the two men of committing the murder themselves; but they had no positive proofs that they were guilty of the crime, only the description of his assailants given them by the dying miner. There might be other men with broken noses and pock-marked faces. All that they could swear to of their own knowledge was that one of the men they had seen murdering the old miner was larger than the other. They had not got near enough to the murderers to be able to recognize them again, even if they should see them, except by the description given by the murdered man. And for them to accuse the two men, who had caused their arrest, of the murder, in itself would look suspicious to those who did not know the real facts and would have a tendency to make them doubt their whole story of the death of the miner.
Then there was another matter that troubled the two boys greatly. Why had the two men accused them thus publicly of the murder of the miner? Why had they run this risk of turning suspicion against themselves? They must feel very certain that the "evidence" they would produce would convict; or, they never would have dared to have chanced accusing them of the crime; for their acquittal would be almost sure to turn suspicion in their own direction. True, there was the skin map, and, possibly, the accusation was some scheme to get the map into their possession; but, how could their hanging bring this about? If they were hanged, the map and its meaning would be almost sure to be made public; and then every man in Sacramento City would have as good a chance of finding the Cave of Gold as would the two scoundrels themselves, a condition of things that both boys felt quite sure the two men were exceedingly anxious to avoid, and the map itself would be almost certain to be kept from them.
Then, again, the possession of the skin map itself was the cause of the gravest anxiety and dread. If they confessed to its possession it would reveal to all the secret of the Cave of Gold, something that they were almost ready to give their lives to prevent, and would not help their case in the least. Indeed, under the circumstances it would, probably, be considered the strongest possible circumstantial evidence of their guilt.
But, what if the alcalde should order them searched and the map be found? Or, what if the two men, becoming desperate, should ask that they be searched, to see if anything that belonged to the miner could be found in their possession, and the buckskin bag and the gold nugget and the skin map should all be discovered in their place of concealment under Thure's left shoulder?
When the two horns of a dilemma are both equally long and sharp, how, then, can the peril be avoided?
Indeed, the longer and the closer Thure and Bud looked at their situation, the more dreadful and impossible of remedy it appeared. How could they prove their innocence, when they did not have a single witness to appear in their defense? How could their youth and inexperience, friendless and alone, hope to combat successfully with the cunning and the experience of these two unprincipled men, who would stop at nothing to accomplish their ends? But, they were not the kind of boys to give up a fight for life, as long as they could strike back; and the more difficult their situation appeared, the more grimly determined they became to win out somehow, or, at least, to die fighting.
"Not a word of the skin map and the Cave of Gold," hastily warned Thure in a whisper to Bud, as the alcalde, having completed the tale of the jury, again turned to them. "Tell everything just as it happened, but that. The telling of that would not help us a bit; and, if it were known that we had a map and a gold nugget that had belonged to the miner, it would look suspicious and might hurt us a lot; and we don't want to give away the Cave of Gold, not if we can help it."
"Right," whispered back Bud. "It's got to be our word against the word of those two cowardly villains, I reckon," and he glared furiously in the direction of the two men. "We've just got to beat them some way," and his young face grew grim and stern.
By this time the jurymen had all seated themselves comfortably on the ground on both sides of the alcalde, and were ready to hear the testimony.
"You may step forward and be sworn," and the alcalde's eyes signaled out the big man with a broken nose.
The man stepped up in front of the alcalde, who sat on a stump, with a barrel standing on end in front of him and an old worn Bible lying on top of the barrel.
"Hold up your right hand," commanded the alcalde, his keen eyes fixing themselves sternly on the red, brutal face; "and repeat the oath after me."
The man's right hand went up with a sort of spasmodic jerk.
"I do solemnly swear," began the alcalde slowly, "that the testimony I am about to give in the case now before the court, shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth; and may God eternally damn my soul, if I knowingly utter a false word."
Hesitatingly and with a whitening face, the man slowly repeated this oath.
"Kiss the Bible," commanded the alcalde; "and may God blister the lips that have touched His holy book, if they suffer a false word to pass between them."
The man hesitated a moment: and then, at a muttered objurgation from his companion, he bent and hastily pressed his lips against the cover of the holy book.
"What is your name and business?" In this rude and informal court the alcalde not only acted as judge, but also examined all witnesses.
"William Ugger, Bill Ugger, for short," answered the man, his eyes shifting restlessly from face to face as he spoke. "Me an' my pard are bound for th' diggin's."
"Now, remembering that you have sworn to speak nothing but the truth and that your lips have just kissed the holiest of books, you may tell the jury and the people here assembled what you know of this alleged murder of the miner, John Stackpole. Be as brief as possible, please," and the alcalde's eyes, as well as the eyes of every man gathered there, fastened themselves on the face of Bill Ugger.
"Wal," and the shifting eyes fixed themselves for a few brief moments on the ground in front of the big feet, "it happened like this. Me an' my pard, Spike, thar," and he nodded toward his companion, "was on our way from San Francisco tew Sacramento City an' th' diggin's a-hossback. Somehow we happened tew git off th' reg'lar trail, me an' Spike did; an' 'long 'bout noon, three days ago, we comed tew a leetle valley, with a leetle stream of water a-runnin' through it, an' a string of trees an' brush a-growin' 'longside th' water. Both on us bein' tired, we'd ben a-goin' since sun-up, we found a nice shady spot 'longside th' water, an', tyin' our hosses tew th' trees, both on us laid down for a short snooze. Course I don't know how long we'd ben a-snoozin', but, I reckon, 'twas 'bout a couple of hours, when we was both jerked out of a sound sleep by a yell of agony that sounded as if it comed from a man what had ben struck a mortal blow. Nat'rally that yell startled me an' Spike sum, bein' that we both had been sound asleep; an', maybe, for a minute we sot a-lookin' intew each other's eyes, doin' nuthin'. Then Spike says: 'Sounded human, Bill. Like sumone had got his,' an' I seed that he was a-shiverin'; for 'tain't none pleasant tew be waked out of a sound sleep by th' death-cry of a human. 'An' it sounded as if it comed from right ayond that leetle clump of bushes,' an' he pointed a shakin' finger toward a leetle clump of bushes, 'bout a rod away, that shut out our view of th' valley. 'I reckon we'd better investergate,' an' we both began a-crawlin' toward that clump of bushes, not havin' heard no more sounds.
"Wal," and the shifty eyes shot swift glances from the face of the alcalde to the faces of the jury and the surrounding crowd, to note the effect of his words, "when we got tew them bushes an' looked through 'em—" He paused and laid a hand solemnly on the Bible lying on top of the barrel in front of the alcalde—"so help me God! this is what we saw. Th' valley in front of th' bushes was level an' open, so that we could see clear 'cross it; an', 'bout twenty rods from whar we was, we saw a man strugglin' violently on th' ground with two other men atop of him, while three hosses stood a leetle ways off a lookin' at 'em; an', even as we looked, we saw one of th' men flash a knife above his head an' plunge it down, an' th' man on th' ground stopped strugglin'.
"This was a leetle more'n Spike an' I was a-willin' tew stand for, an' we both jumps up out of th' bushes, an', drawin' our pistols, we had no rifles, we yells an' starts for them two men. Both on 'em jumps tew their feet, an' grabs up their rifles, an', afore you could say Jack, they had th' both on us covered, we not bein' near enough tew use our pistols. But we was close enough tew see 'em plain; an', afore God!—" The man stopped abruptly and, whirling suddenly about, pointed a finger dramatically directly into the face of Thure—"it was that young villain a-standin' thar what had his gun a-pointin' straight at me!"
Thure, in utter astonishment, took a quick step backward; and then, suddenly realizing what that pointing finger meant, backed by those startling words, he lost all control of himself for the moment and leaped straight toward Bill Ugger.
"It's a lie! A lie!" he yelled, as with all his young strength he struggled furiously with the great bulk of his antagonist. But, before either could do the other any harm, the strong hands of the sheriff seized Thure by the shoulders.
"Here, you young catamount!" and he jerked Thure violently backward, and lifted the butt of his heavy revolver threateningly, while his face hardened. "Quit it, or—" and the heavy butt descended lightly on Thure's head by way of warning.
"But he lied! Every word that he uttered was a lie!" and tears of rage gathered in Thure's eyes.
"Young man," the alcalde was now standing on his feet, all the sympathy gone from his face, "you will give me your word of honor not in any way again to do violence to the decorum of this court during this trial, or I shall order the sheriff to bind you hand and foot. Do I have your promise?" and he fixed his eyes sternly on the white face of Thure.
For a moment Thure stood silent. Then his young face hardened and his lips tightened into two thin straight lines. Reason again had firm hold of the helm.
"I promise," he answered quietly; "and I ask the court's pardon for my violent action. But the damnable lies told by that—"
"That will do," interrupted the alcalde. "Sheriff, if either of the prisoners forgets himself or our presence again, bind him hand and foot. Now," and he turned to Bill Ugger, who, as soon as Thure had been torn from him, had again returned quietly to his place before the official barrel, his red face flushed and his little eyes shining with triumph, "you may go on with your testimony, William Ugger. You were saying that you recognized one of the prisoners as one of the murderers and that he had you covered with his rifle. Remembering your oath and comprehending fully what your dreadful accusation means to a fellow human being, you still swear that the man who sprang up from the prostrate body and leveled his rifle at you was this prisoner?" and the alcalde's lifted hand indicated Thure.
The interest of the crowd surrounding the court had by this time become intense. Men were breathing heavily and their faces had hardened and an ugly look had come into their eyes. All now stretched their heads forward, as they listened almost breathlessly for the reply of Bill Ugger.
"I do," answered the man grimly. "I saw his face plain, a-lookin' at me above th' top of his rifle."
A deep growl went up from the surrounding crowd, a sound more like the throat mutterings of a monstrous tiger than anything human. The sheriff started and his keen eyes swiftly searched the circle of faces.
"I reckon thar ain't no need of waitin' for more testimony," cried a hoarse voice. "They was seen killin' th' man; an' that's all we wants tew know. Let jedgement be pronounced, an' we'll 'tend tew th' ex'cutin' of it."
"Right!" yelled another. "There's no need of wasting more—"
"Silence!" thundered the alcalde, leaping to his feet. "This court, a court elected by your own authority, is trying the prisoners; and, by the Eternal Andrew Jackson! they shall not be declared guilty until they have been heard in their own defense, until they have been proven guilty in full accordance with the laws of this city. William Ugger, you may go on with your testimony. There will be no further interruptions," and the alcalde quietly laid a couple of big revolvers down on top of the barrel, one on each side of the Bible.
At this moment and when all eyes were bent on the alcalde, Thure felt a slight jerk on his coat sleeve, and, glancing down, saw that the smaller of their accusers, the pock-marked man, had moved up close to his side and that it had been his hand that had jerked his sleeve.
"Read at once," and the man swiftly slipped a piece of paper into his hand. "It is your only hope," and he moved away, not having once even glanced toward Thure.
Thure, stepping a little behind Bud and holding the paper so that no eyes but his own could see it, cautiously opened the note and slowly read these words:
If you wil give us the miners map and promice tu say nuthin bout the gold kave Bill and me wil sudenly diskuver that we is mistakin in thinkin that you was the ones tu kil old Stakpole and you wil go free. If you dont you wil both hang afore sun down tu nite and al the gold in Caleforny aint wurth as much tu you as is yur lives. If you agrees tu this nod yur hed 2 times. If you dont git redy tu hang.
The note was unsigned; and no signature was necessary. Its meaning was plain. The two boys were to surrender the skin map to the two scoundrels and say nothing about the Cave of Gold; or, the dreadful plot, in whose meshes they found themselves so tightly ensnared, was to be followed out to its horrible conclusion. The motive back of the two men's action now stood revealed. They expected to frighten the two boys into giving up the skin map and into keeping secret their knowledge of the Cave of Gold. But, what a fiendish plot! And with what diabolical cunning it had all been worked out and was being executed!
Thure read the note through slowly; and, in a flash, he had comprehended the whole atrocious, scheme and with what devilish cunning circumstances had been manipulated to bring about their present terrible situation; but, only the furious look in his eyes showed how the note had affected him.
"From Pockface," he whispered, as he quietly slipped the paper into Bud's hand. "Read it on the sly; and then give me your answer."
Bud cautiously took the note and opened it, wondering greatly at its coming from Pockface. He read it through slowly, comprehendingly; and then he turned and glanced into Thure's face. One look was sufficient.
During all this time Pockface's eyes had been covertly watching the boys.
Bud now waited until he saw that the man's eyes were upon him, then he deliberately raised the piece of paper to his mouth, spit on it, and, bending down, placed it under the heel of his boot, ground it to pieces in the ground, and, defiantly turning his back on the man, gave his attention to the doings of the alcalde.
The two scoundrels had misjudged the courage and the pluck of two American boys like Thure Conroyal and Bud Randolph; and, judging from the scowls that disfigured their faces and the ugly light that flashed into their eyes, at the sight of Bud's actions, in their disappointment, they would show them no mercy. They would get the map, or they would hang the boys. Indeed, this action on their part now became almost necessary; for, if they did not succeed in hanging the boys, the boys, in all probability, would succeed in hanging them.
This dramatic byplay had taken but a short time in the enacting and had passed unnoticed in the excitement occasioned by the threats from the surrounding crowd and the placing of the alcalde's two big revolvers by the side of the Bible on top of the barrel standing in front of him. When it was over and Thure and Bud again gave their attention to the court, Bill Ugger was about to continue with his testimony, the majority of the crowd having shown themselves so plainly in sympathy with the actions of the alcalde that the rougher ones evidently thought it wise to keep quiet.
"As I was a-sayin'," continued Bill Ugger, when everything had quieted down again, "afore we could git near enough tew th' murderers tew use our pistols, they held us up with their rifles, an' ordered us tew git an' git lively; an', by way of makin' plain their meaning that skunk," and he glared at Thure, "sent a bullet a-whistlin' so close tew my ears that it made this hole through th' brim of my hat," and the man held up his wide-brimmed hat and pointed with his finger to a little round hole in the brim close to the crown. "Three inches more tew one side an' he'd a-got me, tew.
"Wal, me an' Spike didn't stop tew argy none after that; but got back ahind them bushes an' trees as sudden as our legs would take us. But," and Ugger paused and glared at Thure and Bud, "if I knowed I was on my deathbed an' a-goin' tew die in five minits, I'd be willin' tew swear that th' tew murderers was them tew boys a-standin' thar. We saw their faces plain an' thar ain't no mistake," and his eyes flashed an ugly look in the direction of Thure and Bud.
"Of course," continued Bill Ugger, "they didn't dare follow us, 'cause, if they did, they knowed we could hide ahind a tree an' pot 'em, which we'd ben sum glad tew do," and his eyes glowed vindictively. "Wal, we waited, hid ahind th' bushes an' trees, not darin' tew show ourselves an' bein' tew far off tew do any pistol shooting a-hopin' that they'd ride off an' leave th' body of th' man they'd robbed an' probably killed, but they was tew cunnin' tew do that; for, in a leetle while, they throwed th' body, like it was a bag of grain, across th' back of one of th' hosses an' tied it thar; an' then they rode off, a-leadin' th' hoss with th' body on it ahind 'em. Me an' Spike waited 'til they'd gone out of sight over th' top of a distant hill an' then we made for th' spot of th' killin'. Th' grass was sum tread up an' bloody; an' lyin' in th' blood an' partly tread intew th' ground, we found this," and Ugger thrust his hand into one of his pockets and pulled out a small daguerreotype-case, perhaps a couple of inches square, on which could be plainly seen ominous stains of red.
"This," and he held up the small case where all could see, "has inside of it th' picter of as handsum a lady as I ever seed; an' under th' picter is writ, in a woman's writin,' these words: Tew my beloved husband, John Stackpole'; an' we reckoned, me an' Spike did, as how th' murdered man's name must a-ben John Stackpole. See for yourselves," and he handed the case to the alcalde, who, after opening it and looking at the picture inside and the blood stains on the outside, passed it on to the jury, who examined it carefully.
"Of course," continued Ugger, after he had watched the effect of the daguerreotype on the alcalde and the jury for a minute, "bein' bound for th' diggin's an' knowin' 'twould be almost useless tew try an' trail th' murderers, me an' Spike at once started on our way ag'in for Sacermento City, not expectin' tew see them murderers ag'in, leastwise not so soon. We got intew th' city this mornin'; an' was a-standin' on th' street a-lookin' at th' humans a-passin' by, when who should come a-ridin' along right afore our eyes, but them tew identickle young fellers what we had seen kill that man; an', of course, bein' honest an' law-abidin' men, me an' Spike seen tew it that they didn't git away a second time. Now, I reckon, that's all I've got tew tell, only," and again his eyes turned vindictively to Thure and Bud, "thar ain't ben no mistake made an' you've got th' right men; an' if they don't hang afore night, then thar ain't no justice in Sacermento City. I'm done."
The alcalde sat for a moment looking straight in front of him. Evidently he was swiftly reviewing the man's testimony to see if there were any points that needed clearing up; but everything had been told, apparently, in such a clear, straightforward manner that there seemed to be nothing that needed explaining, and, with a sigh as he thought of the youthfulness of the prisoners, the alcalde turned to the jury.
"Would you like to ask the witness any questions?" he inquired.
"No. Everything seems to have been told as clear and as straight as a string," one of them replied, and all the others nodded their assent to this, statement.
"Have the prisoners any questions they wish to ask the witness?" and the alcalde turned to Thure and Bud.
For a moment the two boys consulted together. Then Thure said quietly: "No, there is nothing that either of us would care to ask that man."
"The prisoner is dismissed for the present," and the alcalde motioned Bill Ugger to step back from in front of the barrel.