Fifteen minutes later they returned their verdict of guilty of murder in the first degree. For several moments there was intense silence in the courtroom; broken only by the voice of Judge Grayson—
“William Sarg, stand up.”
Skeeter got to his feet and faced the judge, who said:
“You have been found guilty of murder in the first degree. Is there any reason why the sentence of the court should not be passed upon you?”
Skeeter shook his head slowly. The jury had taken no cognizance of the fact that Cleve Hart might have shot first—had given him no benefit of any doubt.
“Go ahead, judge,” said Skeeter softly. “There ain’t nothin’ else yuh can do.”
Judge Grayson’s eyes searched the courtroom, passed over the stony-faced jury and came back to Skeeter Bill.
“William Sarg, I sentence you to life imprisonment at Red Lodge.”
Life imprisonment! Skeeter took a deep breath. He had expected a death sentence. The courtroom buzzed with excitement, and one of the jurymen swore openly. Skeeter felt a pressure on his arm and turned to find Freel looking him square in the eyes and saying—
“Sarg, I’m —— glad.”