Pulp Fiction, 1950 · page 107 of 133
Arizona Round-Up — page 107: what you’re looking at
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ARIZONA ROUNDUP 105 fense “attorney.” Pearson sat-at a table as court clerk, taking the proceedings down in Jonghand, scribbling rapidly. When word was sent out to bring in Tex Burnett, he signaled to the Deacon and the others, who melted toward various vantage points. But Burnett was not to be found. Gardner turned to the prisoners. “Would any of you men care to take the witness stand in your own defense?” he asked curtly. A man coughed. Here and there heads poked and dodged to get a better view. Sandy shuffled his feet nervously and licked his lips, looking down at the boardwalk. “What good would it do?” he finally blurted out in a choked voice. “You've already got yore minds made up to hang us without a fair trial.” “Youre being allowed a fair trial,” was the curt rejoinder. “All of you refused to plead, so the plea was Not Guilty. Youre now being allowed the opportunity to come forward and prove your innocence in the face of the charges, which are suspicion of attempted armed holdup and robbery of a stagecoach and its passengers—or one passenger in particular whom you thought to be on that stage carrying a large sum of money—and also ‘suspicion of complicity in the murder of the guard who rode the coach to protect the driver and those same passengers. Do you wish to testify?” But Sandy mutely shook his head. “Upjohn?” “No. "Fwouldn’t do no good, I reckon.” “Lance Haraway?” “Go to hell!” snarled the prisoner. They had been feeding him whiskey and his nerve was back. “Bud Bailey?” , “Tll have the door of the hot place open for you when you get there and a red hot pitchfork in both hands,” Bailey flung back. “Jed Haraway?” “Yes,” came the answer quite calmly, “I'll be glad to testify, though I wish these handcuffs were off so’s I could light my pipe. I believe that it is customary for a condemned man to be granted a last favor, and that’s the favor I’m asking. You see,” cComicoooks.com