Adventure Magazine Cover — page 120: what you’re looking at

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

IIo quietness and moderation made me uneasy. Next morning the little room which did duty as a court-house was packed to suffo- cation, and I saw the six strangers scattered among the crowd. I remember thinking it funny that they had not stuck together. Two of them were posted on either side of the pathway through which the prisoner would be brought presently. The judge came in and took his seat. Then they brought in Red Jake. His face was sullen and hopeless as he passed through the door; but I saw his eyes light - up-as he looked round the crowded room. As they led him in it seemed to me, who was standing near, that one of the strang- ers leaned forward and slipped something into Jake’s pocket. It took the best part of the morning to wade through the evidence, which was all given by natives. Jake’s only defense was a complete denial of everything. Then the judge summed up. He pointed out the motive of the crime, that of double revenge; first, against Mercer, and, sec- ondly, against the girl Usta, for wishing to return to a man of her own color. He pointed out the brutal nature of the mur- der, and, altogether, it seemed a clear case of Jake for the long drop. As the judge finished speaking I looked up and saw Umpomba, with his head half through the window, listening to every word. ; The jury didn’t need to retire to con- sider their verdict. For a minute or two they conferred together in whispers. The foreman was on his feet. “My Lord—” he began, then stopped dead. You could have heard a pin drop in the court-house, for each of those six strangers had a brace of revolvers in his fists, and ° Red Jake also held a gun in his hand. I had not been wrong about the stranger by the door slipping something into the pris- oner’s pocket. “See here,” said Jake, leaning forward and glaring fiercely at the foreman, “You find me ‘not guilty,’ else me, an’ my pals will blow particler outer this com- munity.” The judge half-rose from his seat and Jake’s pistol swung round to-cover him. “Sit down,” he yapped, and the judge sank back. Gad, but he was a brave man, that judge. d Adventure “You will gain nothing by this show of armed force,” he said. “I shall do my duty and pass sentence in accordance with the finding, whatever happens after.”” Then he turned to the jury. ‘Gentlemen,’ he said. “I am waiting for your finding.” I saw the foreman look furtively around him as if seeking a way of escape. See- ing none, he hesitated a moment longer, looking appealingly at his fellow jury- men. “Not guilty,” he stammered, at last, flushing up to the roots of his sandy hair as the words left his lips. It was a day of unexpected happenings, but things weren’t finished yet. Umpomba thrust his head and shoulders right in through the window. ‘“‘White men,” he shouted, ‘‘you would let go the Red Slaughterer, who burned my sister? Then for Usta’s—my sister’s— sake, I swear by the Inkoosizana-y-Zulu, the Mother of the Heavens, to be re- venged; aye, even if I have to wait a life- time.” Then the strangers surged forward and surrounded Jake, before they all backed out of the door together, the muzzles of their revolvers covering us all the time. A moment later we heard their horses’ hoofs upon the road and almost imme- diately after that a mighty splashing, as they dashed through the drift. Il LYALL slowly scraped out the bowl on of his pipe and spat contemplatively upon the floor. ‘Jake hated for no reason at all,” he said, “‘and failed to get his revenge. Old Umpomba was a good hater, in a just cause, and has fulfilled his vow after thirty years. But what always beat me was why Jake was never recaptured and hanged after a fresh trial.” “T can tell you that,” said the bank manager. “It is a point of English law, which would have been in force in Mashona- land in those days, that a man, once tried for an offense and acquitted, can not be tried again for the same offense, not even though he publicly confess his guilt.”’ “Ah!” said the prospector reflectively. “Civilized law’s a rum thing. Personally I prefer the law of the wild—old Umpom- ba’s brand, for instance.” MICLOOOK C©@