"Shut up!" said Sinclair. "No matter what you done, you deserve hangin' for being yaller. But concerning this here matter, gents, it looks to me like it'd be a pretty good idea to have a fair and square trial for Gaspar."
"Trial?" asked Buck Mason. "Don't we all know what trials end up with?
Law ain't no good, except to give lawyers a living."
"Never was a truer thing said," declared Sinclair. "All I mean is, that you and me and the rest of us run a trial for ourselves. Let's get in the evidence and hear the witness and make out the case. If we decide they ain't enough agin' Gaspar to hang him, then let him go. If we decide to stretch him up, we'll feel a pile better about it and nearer to the truth."
He went on steadily in spite of the groans of disapproval on every side. "Why, this is all laid out nacheral for a courtroom. That there stump is for the judge, and the black rock yonder is where the prisoner sits. That there nacheral bench of grass is where the jury sits. Gents, could anything be handier for a trial than this layout?"
To the theory of the thing they had been entirely unresponsive, but to the chance to play a game, and a new game, they responded instantly.
"Besides," said Judge Lodge, "I'll act as the judge. I know something about the law."
"No, you won't," declared Riley. "I thought up this little party, and
I'm going to run it." Then he stepped to the stump and sat down on it.
8
Denver Jim was already heartily in the spirit of the thing.
"Sit down on that black rock, Jig," he said, taking Gaspar to the designated stone as he spoke, and removing the noose from the latter's neck. "Black is a sign you're going to swing in the end. Jest a triflin' postponement, that's all."