In one of the counties there was all the machinery for carrying on a considerable court business, but affairs were so exceptionally peaceful that there was very little for the court to do. It was therefore a matter of pride to the inhabitants of that county when it became necessary to try a real red-handed murderer.
The judge had little, if any, experience in murder trials, and felt the importance of the occasion quite seriously. There was great general interest during the trial and the court room was packed. At last the case was ready for the jury which filed out, soon returning with the verdict of guilty. The judge arose and directed the prisoner to stand before him.
“Prisoner at the bar,” said he. “You have been tried by a jury of your peers, and let us hope, superiors, and have been found guilty of the crime charged against you. I therefore sentence you, etc., etc.,” repeating the usual formula, of which the substance was that he should be hanged early in the spring following the present session of court, which was in the late autumn. Then recollecting himself, he said to the prisoner:
“Is there any reason why the sentence should not be imposed upon you?”
The prisoner who had assumed a bored attitude throughout the entire trial, manifested but languid interest.
“I dunno as I have anything to say, except that I don’t expect to be there that day.”
He was not there that day. The jail was a ramshackle affair at best and the prisoner, after apparently enjoying the hospitality of the county during the extreme cold months of the winter, made his getaway a week or two before the date set for his execution, and was never heard from again.
Perhaps at no time in the history of a certain rural valley was the legal profession more appreciated than it was following a public hearing to, if possible, determine who was responsible for an epidemic of incendiary fires.