Jasper’s replies did not, however, help him much, for when, returning to the subject, he asked, “Did you not on several occasions drive the witness Lorimer over to Fletcher’s dwelling with presents for his wife?” Jasper answered boldly, “I did, and I guess Mrs. Fletcher would have gone hungry if we hadn’t. Fletcher’s a low-grade wastrel, and anyway he ate most of them presents. Yes, sir; they were fowls and potatoes, and Lorimer never went over but Fletcher was there.”
There was a great laugh from the riders of Carrington, and the defendant’s lawyer frowned. 301
“Are you a friend of the witness Lorimer?”
“I hope so,” Jasper answered simply. “If ever I meet you on the prairie I’ll endeavor to convince you.”
“Were you a friend of Thomas Fletcher’s?”
The answer was emphatic. “No. I guess the sight of the insect makes me sick.”
Again the lawyer smiled toward the jury, and the judge, censuring the witness, directed him to refrain from unnecessary details. The next question came:
“Was it because you were a friend of Lorimer’s, or had such a bitter dislike to Fletcher, that one night you attempted to murder him? Let me remind you that Fletcher, as has been admitted, came to bring back his wife from Fairmead, and was threatened with a rifle there. Then you rode after him, and overtook him on the prairie where it was lonely.”
“It was for neither reason,” Jasper answered, straightening his burly form as he glared at his adversary. “A young girl bluffed off Fletcher and the other ruffian there, the prisoner Gorst. She was alone, but she scared the pair of them with an empty rifle. Suppose you left your sister alone, and came back to find a half-drunk hobo trying to murder her?”
The lawyer, I fancied, had now heard rather more than he knew before, and it struck me that the prisoner’s cunning had overreached itself in not posting him better, for he glanced at his papers before continuing: