“Did you make a violent attack upon him?”
“I did,” said Jasper, cheerfully. “Oh, yes, and I’m coming to it in my own way. I rode right after him, took Fletcher out of the wagon, asked the other man if he felt inclined to assist him, and, when he didn’t, laid into Fletcher with the whip and just hove him into the sloo. Why did I do it?—it’s a poor conundrum. For the credit of the 302 prairie. We’ve no room for woman-beaters, cattle thieves, slanderers, and dishonest lawyers down to our district. Bring along more questions—you hear me; I’ve lots more to say.”
The judge cut short his eloquence, but he had said enough, and there was wild approval from the prairie contingent, in which some of the citizens joined, and through it Jasper towered before the assembly, a stalwart figure, shaking a great fist and ejaculating something in the direction of his annoyer. The tumult was quelled with difficulty, and an official told me that never before had he seen so much excitement shown. It was due, he added, to the presence of those mad young riders of Carrington. I sat down breathing more easily, for I felt that as yet my honor was clear, and whether Fletcher escaped or not was of minor importance. From the beginning the main efforts of the other side had been directed toward saving him, while as the case proceeded I listened with decreasing interest, until at last the prosecutor said:
“My opponent has done his utmost, even overstepping limits, to prove that the witness Lorimer has ended a long course of injury by supporting a false charge against the prisoner Fletcher. This is after all a side issue, but I think the jury will agree that he has furnished most reliable testimony, and that the prisoner mentioned took an unprincipled advantage of his perfectly well-intentioned kindness.”
There was considerably more which did not affect me, and another speech, though I woke to eager interest again when the judge, in making his final comments, said:
“As regards the witness Lorimer, I entirely agree with the view taken by the prosecution. He has evidently suffered by well-meant efforts to aid the prisoner, and, though that is not connected with the case except in so far as it covers the reliability of his testimony, he has been shown to be an individual 303 of unblemished character. We can accordingly accept his evidence.”
Again there was applause, which the judge checked severely, and proceeded: “You will notice that, while the prisoner Fletcher’s record does not seem to be a creditable one, the evidence fails in some degree to connect him with the other two prisoners as an active participator in the robbery. I refer to—” and so on.
The jury retired for a considerable time, and when the foreman reappeared he announced that they found two of the prisoners guilty, and Thomas Fletcher not guilty, the latter in a very doubtful tone. He also appeared desirous of adding some explanation, which was not permitted; while, as the court broke up, I noticed the detective watching Fletcher much as a cat watches a momentarily liberated mouse. Then I was surrounded by the men from the prairie, who insisted on escorting us to our hotel, and when I asked for Jasper somebody said he had seen him loitering beside one of the court-house doors. We found him partly hidden by a wagon, watching it intently.
“Are you getting up another speech, or trying to freeze there?” one of the Carrington party asked.
“No! I guess I’m laying for that lawyer. Couldn’t get at him inside there for a barrier. Am I a low-grade perjurer—and my friend what he was working round to show? If you’ll stand by for just two minutes I’ll convince the insect—the blamed, vermilion, mosquito!”