He stood for a few seconds thus till order was restored, then he quietly returned one of his guns to its holster, while the other he retained in his hand. He turned at once to Jim.
“You’re accused of the murder of Will Henderson by Smallbones,” he said simply. “You’ve got more of this story back of your head. You’ve now got your chance of ladlin’ it out to clear yourself. You’d best speak. 363 An’ the quicker the better. You say the knife that killed him was yours. Yes?”
The man’s honest intention was obvious. He wanted to give Jim a chance. He was doing his utmost. But he knew the temper of these men, and he knew that they were not to be played with. It was up to the accused man to clear himself.
Peter Blunt anxiously watched Jim’s face. There was something like despair in his honest eyes. But he could do nothing without the other’s help.
Jim looked straight into the doctor’s eyes. There was no defiance in his look, neither was there anything of the guilty man in it. It was simply honest.
“I’ve told you all I have to tell,” he said. “The knife that killed Will Henderson was my knife. But I swear before God that I am innocent of his death!”
The doctor turned from him with an oath. And curiously enough his oath was purely at the man’s obstinacy.
“Fellers,” he said, addressing the assembly, “I’ve been your leader for a goodish bit, an’ I don’t guess I’m goin’ back on you now. We got a code of laws right here in Barnriff with which we handle sech cases as this. Those laws’ll take their course. We’ll try the case right here an’ now. You, Smallbones, will establish your case.” Then he turned to Jim. “If there’s any feller you’d like–––”
“I’ll stand by Jim Thorpe,” cried Peter Blunt, in a voice that echoed throughout the building.
Doc Crombie nodded.