Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 424 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

Se Eee $F SS ee es — —_----— ee And she led the way. ‘Poor girl!” said Cibuta. ‘‘ It must be a terrible trial for her. ‘Well, let us come to business, gentlemen,” he continued, after a moment of silence. ‘‘ lL suppose you intend holding an inquest, and if so I hope you will make haste with it, put me in jail if roo will, and then turn your attention to the ding of the murderer; for I—I swear it—am innocent!” In due form then, the inquest was begun. The jurors were chosen, and Bill Twicker acted as coroner. The first witness was Gerald Keyne. He tes- tified to the scene between the prisoner and the judge on the previous afternoon. He said that the judge had seemed very angry, and that his face was pale, as though the prisoner had threatened him, The prisoner had held in his hand the silver dagger. He, Keyne, said he had been among the first to enter the room after the crime. The deed had been done with the silver dagger. Upon the floor he had found a piece of a silver spur. The piece exactly fitted one of the prisoner’s spurs where it had been recently broken. Jem Patterson was next called. He corrobor- ated the testimony of Keyne in regard to the scene under the cottonwood tree. Then Keyne motioned that some one else take the chair, and that Bill Twicker be called as a witness. This was done, and Bill, too, corroborated the story told by Keyne and Jem Patterson concern- ing the scene under the tree. He added, howev- er, that Cibuta John had not seemed to him to be in a passion, and that he did not think he had threatened the judge. The woman servant was next called. She said Judge Hucklebee had retired at his usual hour on the previous night, telling her to call him early. hen she went up to call him she found him dead. Then Cibuta John was called. He said he had retired at ten o’clock, feeling very sleepy. Had fallen asleep at once, and had slept unusually sound. In fact, had not awakened once until he was called by Bill Twicker. He swore that when he retired to bed the silver dagger was in his pocket, and that neither of his spurs was then broken. When questioned about the scene under the cottonwood tree, however, he refused to say anything. He admitted that the judge had been angry. He alsoadmitted having the silver dag- ger in his hand, but said part of the conversa- tion was concerning it. hen asked, he also told about saving Miss Hucklebee’s life. The case was given to the jury, and they de- cided that the judge had been foully murdered, and that there was sufficient evidence to war- rant them in holding Cibuta John for trial. Accordingly the prisoner was put into jail. There he was afterward visited by lawyer Phineas Skynn, who, in return for the favor Cibuta had done him by robbing him in order to save his money from being by real rob- bers, offered to defend him when his case came to trial. He also expressed his sincere belief in his entire innocence of the crime, and Cibuta re- tained him for the defense. On the following day Judge Hucklebee was buried, and the next day was set for the trial. CHAPTER XIII. THE TRIAL, THE greatest day that Ante-Bar had ever seen was the day of Cibuta John’s trial. No building in the town was large enough to accommodate one-tenth of the crowd, and so court was held out of doors, At nine o’clock sharp the new sheriff of the town, Bill Twicker, took his seat, and without any preliminaries whatever announced that ‘‘ This heur court is now open fer biz.” When Cibuta John was brought out it was noticed that his face was slightly pale, but oth- erwise he was the same as usual. He looked to be anything but a prisoner about to be tried for his life. Several times he had been visited by the school-mistress, Clara St. Clare, and once—this Pig morning——by Nettie Hucklebee, had given the people of the Bar plenty to talk about, and the general impression was that Nettie did not think him guilty of the crime, Not until all was in readiness for the trial to begin was it discovered that no one appeared as prosecutor. ‘* Wal, what’s ter be done?” asked Bill Twicker, ‘“‘Tf it please the Court,” said Gerald Keyne, ‘¢ J will act the part of prosecutor.” “ All right,” said Bill; ‘‘take right hold.” Then the battle opened. Witmesses were called in about the same order as at the inquest, except Bill Twicker, who de- cided that ‘‘no jedge could be a jedge an’ a witness ter wunst.” At length Nettie Hucklebee was called. She was not present, and some one was sent to bring her. What she was wanted for was not plain, but Keyne had called for her, and she must be brought. W ben the man who had been sent for her re- turned, however, it was reported that she could not be found. Such being the case, the prosecutor closed without her testimony. Then Lawyer Skynn took hold, The first man he called was Mr. Keyne himself. “ Where were you and the other gentlemen going,” he asked, ‘‘when you came upon the prisoner and Jttdge Hucklebee under the cot- tonwood-tree?” ‘*Going to look at a piece of land, sir,” was the reply, ‘“Very good. Now, sir, please tell us where a were on the night of the murder—I mean, ow and where did you spend the night?” ‘*] retired to my room about eleven o’clock, sir, and slept soundly till four o’clock in the morning. Then I arose ard went out. I slept at the Dew-drop Inn.” ‘You heard no sound during the night?” ** None, sir.” ** That is all.” The next witness was Levi Poppenheimer, the old Jew. ‘* Where were you on the night of this crime?” Skynn asked. ‘* At de Tew-trop Inn,” the Jew answered. ‘* Your room was right next to the one occu- pied by the prisoner, was it not?” ‘It vas, sir.” “Well, Levi, did you hear any sound in the prisoner’s room during the night? ‘* Vonce I heard a slight noise, put it vos not much,” ‘* What was it like?” ‘* Vell,it vas like somet’ing vas drop on de floor.” ** Not a very loud noise?’ ‘* No, only a schmall noise,” The next witness was Clara St. Clare’s negro servant, Snowball White. ‘* Where did you sleep on the night in ques- tion?” was asked. ‘* At de Dew-drop Inn.” ‘* Your room, too, was right next to the pris- oner’s room, was it not?” ‘*¢ "Yes, boss.” ‘* Well, did you hear any noise in that room during the night?” “Yas, I heard dat ar’ re sound what de Jew jes’ tol’ you erbout, Ry ‘¢ What did it sound like?” ‘‘ Wal, kyan’t jes’ tell, boss; but it war erbout like yo’ dra 1 yer boot on de flo’.” ** That wil do.” The next witness was Jeff Parsons, ‘*Mr. Parsons,” said the lawyer, ‘‘ you were instructed to make certain investigations at the Dew-drop Inn. ‘Tell us what you discovered.” ‘* Wal, sir, an’ Bill, an’ gentlemen o’ ther jury,” Jeff began, ‘‘ I'll tell ye ther hull story. Under the directiong 0’ ther lawyer thar, me an’ Tom Billings we went ter ther hotel ter look inter this heur matter a leetle. We went up ter Cibuta John’s room first o’ all. Thar we see thet a feller might easy git inter a winder offen ther shed roof. We got out thar an’ looked around. We found some marks ter prove thet some one had got in that way lately. Then we looked all around close, and found thet ther man hed climbed up one o’ ther posts, An’ right at ther top o’ ther post thar wasa nail a--stickin’ out, an’ thar on that ’ar nail we found this.” And he held up a strip of common cloth about one inch wide by three inches long, on one end of which was a button. This evidence created a great stir. Next called was Tom Billings, who told the same story. Then the case closed. In his address to the jury, Keyne said : ‘‘ Murder is seldom committed without a pow- erful motive. In this instance we ere at a loss to account for the motive which led to the crime. That there was a motive, however, and a powerful one, we are fully satisfied. We know that the prisoner and Judge Hucklebee had a quarrel on the afternoon preceding the crime, and it has been shown that the prisoner had the silver dagger in his hand at that time. Who can say that the coming of witnesses area the scene did not save the life of Judge Huckle- bee then and there? ‘‘On the morning of the crime we found the prisoner—where? In bed! He claimed to be asleep, We had to knock the house almost down to rouse him. That, gentlemen of the 13 jury, to say the least, looks suspicious. Was he not feigning sleep? How, when the town was in an uproar, and all the doors in that hotel were on the wing, slamming and banging cs people came hurrying out—how, I say, could Le sleep right on? ‘*Now, let us picture him as he appeared when he did this hellish deed. He waited, no doubt, until the whole town was wrapt in sleep. Then he left his room by a window, and de- scended from the shed roof to the ground by one of its posts, or supports. Witnesses have sworn to having seen marks that prove some one actually did descend from the shed that way. Who was it if not Cibuta John? The "fein of cloth and button—pshaw! A shrewd wyer’s trick! ‘Going to Judge MHucklebee’s house, he climbed up to the roof of the piazza and entered. the window of the judge’s room. Softly then he crossed the floor, raised his arm and plunged the silver dagger to its hilt in the sleeping man’s breast. ‘“Gentlemen of the jury, it was a horrible mo- ment. Little wonder the man hastened away leaving the dagger there. Little wonder that he broke one of his spurs in climbing through the window, and left a portion of it on the floor. Little wonder that, when he returned to his room he was so nervous that he made a noise in undressing and getting to bed. ‘* Gentlemen of the jury, there is but one course open to you. You must bring ina verdict of murder, or forever be the laughing-stock of your fellow-citizens.” Such was the sum and substance of Keyne’s: argument, hen he had done, lawyer Skynn rose up with a smile of contempt upon his lips. ‘*Gentlemen of the jury,” he began, ‘‘as the learned gentleman for the prosecution has engely observed, murder is seldom committed without some powerful incentive. But he has failed, ut- terly and miserably failed, to show you what the incitement was in this instance. vd why? Because, as he had to acknowledge, none can found. Hehas told you that there was a mo- tive, however, and a powerful one; of that he is fully satisfied. And so am I. But, that is no proof that the prisoner at the bar is the man who did the deed. Before we can believe him guilty, we must know, positively know, what object he could have in committing such a crime, Finding no motive, we are bound to believe him innocent, ‘*' The learned gentleman has told you that the prisoner and Judge Hucklebee had a quarrel on the afternoon preceding the night of the crime. How does he know this? Does he produce wit- nesses to prove what passed between the two men at that time? No, he does not! We know that the two gentlemen were seen standing under the big cottonwood tree up the valley yonder, and that Judge Hucklebee seemed greatly excited. Shall I tell you the cause of his excitement? I can do so, and will. It was this: The prisoner at the bar had just saved the judge’s daughter from a horrible death. Relating the circum- stances to the judge, in all the horrible reality, was the cause of his pale face and his horror- stricken attitude. You all know how dearly the judge loved his daughter. Imagine then what is feelings would naturally be under the cir- cumstances. ‘‘Tt has been shown, too, that the prisoner heid the silver dagger in his hand on that occa- sion. And how was he holding it? I will tell you. He held it by its point, with the handle of it toward the judge! Does this look like threatening the man’s life? Does it not rather look as th igh he was offering the weapon to him? Of course it does. ‘“‘TLet us now go forward to the morning the crime was discovered. Where was the prisoner found? In his bed! Does this look as though he were guilty? Were hea murderer would he not have made his escape ere the crime was found out? Common sense will answer the question for you. Because he happened to sleep soundly that morning, should you accuse him of feigning sleep? What was his conduct when ar- rested? Look at him now, gentlemen. Does his face indicate that he is guilty? or, rather that he is innocent? He is innocent, gentlemen of the jury, as innocent as you are! **'Who, then, is the guilty one? I wish I could tell you. ‘The learned prosecutor has pictured him to you in the act of taking the life of your most: worthy citizen. He presented a picture that should cause the very soul of every honest man to recoil in horror. He showed how he crept from his room in the dead of the night, crept down from the shed roof to the oremnde clim Eomichboo