“Very well, Jones, you go out to the ground and run a line dividing it the way you think it should be divided.”
“Yes, sir,” responded the exultant Jones.
“And, Brown.”
“Yes, sir.”
“To-morrow you go out and take your choice of the two halves as Jones divides it.”
Probably not since the days of Solomon has a legal dispute been more equitably or effectually settled than was that by Judge Begbie—an Englishman just out from the Old Country, in a wild frontier mining camp.
Judge Rouleau held court at widely-scattered points throughout the Northwest Territory and he was noted for the rough and ready, but shrewdly-just, quality of his decisions. On one occasion a half-breed, Louis Frechette, was charged before Judge Rouleau and a jury with the theft of a mule. The evidence was not very convincing—hardly sufficient for a Carolina mob to hang a nigger on—but the jury evidently believed somebody ought to be convicted of stealing the mule. There was no doubt the mule had been stolen. That was the only point that there was no doubt about. However, the jury brought in a verdict of “guilty” much to the chagrin of the judge, who thereupon was bound to sentence the accused which he did as follows:
“Louis, stan’ up. Louis, you have been convict’ of steal de mule. I sentence you to ‘tree mont’ in the polis Barracks at Regina. An’ Louis, d—— you, if I t’ink you guilt’ of steal dat mule I would give you t’ree year.”
Thus did the good judge vindicate the law and at the same time express his contempt for the jury’s verdict.
Another time when a half-breed was up for some offence or other, the evidence was very conflicting and barely warranted a conviction, if that. But he was found guilty and the judge, addressing the prisoner, said: