Western Story Magazine, May 12, 1934 — page 49: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Outlaws Of Calico Hole 47 grim Texans listened attentively to the evidence, heard Ritchie’s dra- matie plea, then prepared to retire to the jury room. “How long will they be here?’ Sally asked. “T can’t tell you, my girl,” Ritchie answered. | The men disappeared into a room, and the door was locked. Hours passed, and the judge and court of- ficials disappeared. The _ girls waited endlessly, refusing Ritchie’s invitation to have something to eat. Night fell, and they returned to the hotel. At two o’clock a knock came at the door. “It’s the clerk. Are you awake?” “How can we sleep?” Sally eried in anguish. “What’s happened?” “The jury’s reached a verdict,” the clerk said, “‘and messengers have been sent for the judge and the oth- ers. I thought you’d like to know.” “Thanks,” Alice answered. They leaped from bed and dressed hurriedly. On the street, 1t was cold. Their footsteps broke the silence of night. The stars hung bright and low. Here and there a cat slunk from view. The lights were on in some houses. Others, having heard the news, were dressing. The courtroom was filled when they arrived, with sleepy people grouped along the walls. The judge stepped to the bench, and the jury was brought in. Alice searched each face and learned nothing, ex- cept the men appeared tired, as if they had hotly argued. The judge asked the foreman if a verdict had been reached, and the latter said: “Yes, your honor.” He passed a slip of paper to the clerk, who gave it to the judge. The judge glanced briefly at it and said: “Read it, Mr. Clerk.” The clerk ‘droned: “We, the un- dersigned jury, do find Albert Ford guilty of murder in the first degree.” | The room was silent, except for the ticking of a big clock and the soft rustle of clothing, then there was a convulsive sob. Sally Geary crumpled to the floor, and Alice thought of a hen quail hit by a charge of shot. She leaned down and patted the girl’s shoulder, but kept her eyes on the judge. “Albert Ford, stand up!” Al got to his feet and faced the judge. He was tall and straight, but still underweight. His eyes were clear, and his chin was up. “Sally, look!” Alice whispered. “You must get up!” “Yes,” the girl said. She got to her feet. Her face was like chalk, and she grasped Alice’s arm for sup- port. “Look! He’s our man, Sally, and he’s brave. Yes, that’s it. He’s brave. I must find something to ching to or I'll go crazy.” Now Sally was the stronger, and it was her arm that supported Alice. “Have you anything to say?” the judge asked. “Is there any reason why sentence should not be passed on you now?” “None, your honor!’ AJ evenly. “But there is something for you to say, Al!’ Alice clawed her way through others and grasped Al’s arm. “This is your last chance, Al! Speak up and tell everything.” The judge leaned slightly forward, his eyes intent. Ritchie removed his glasses and said: “Speak, Al. You’ve shielded him long enough.” “Albert Ford, is there any reason why sentence should not be passed on you now?” the judge repeated. “None, your honor,’ Al said again, then he faltered, moistened his lips, and repeated: “Nonele 25-4 said