Read Online The Big Sky by A. B. Guthrie Jr. - Free Book Online
Authors: A. B. Guthrie Jr.
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a squirt. "Well?" prompted Beecher.
"That gun, he stoled it from me."
"How?"
"He just taken it, and I was aimin' to Sit it back."
"That's why you tackled him?"
"To git it back."
The squire hitched himself in his chair. "Look, boy! I'm on your side, but unless you tell me the facts of the case I can't help you. Start at the first now, and tell the whole story."
"Ain't nothin' to tell, savin' he came up on me two nights ago and gave me his name and took supper with me."
"Where?"
"Two days away, yonder."
"Then what?"
"He sneaked off in the night, takin' my gun and my horn and bullet pouch."
"When he came up on you, do you mean it was at your house?"
"Outside."
"How did you happen to be outside?"
Squire Beecher waited for an answer. "You mean you were traveling?"
"To St. Louis."
"From where?"
Again the squire waited. "Is this all you're going to tell me, just that this man Bedwell came up on you while you were camping out, and shared your supper and later stole off with your gun while you slept?"
Boone said, "That's all there is."
Squire Beecher bent his head and brought his queue around in front and fingered it while he thought. It was eelskin, likely, it was tied by. Beecher said, "You don't give yourself much chance. How do you happen to be tramping through Indiana with no money? You haven't any money, have you? No food? No horse?"
The sheriff's horn of a voice came into the room. "Court's ready, Beecher." While Beecher looked at him Boone said, "It don't matter. He stoled my rifle, I told you." The young lawyer got up, a frown wrinkling his smooth face. "Come on, then."
"Ready?" asked the red-faced judge. Squire Beecher nodded. "Ready as can be, Judge Test." To the sheriff the judge said, "Summon the jury." The sheriff strode to the door and bellowed "Jury!" like a man calling hogs. Afterward he came back and pounded on a table. "Oyez! Oyez!" There was a scuffling of feet as everybody stood. The voice boomed around the room. Beecher motioned Boone toward one of the tables. They sat down by it. Bedwell was seated at the other, and with him was a lean-faced man who kept fiddling with his chin. The man's eyes were so gray they were almost white, like glass, and, like glass, they looked hard and cool.
The fat man called Judge Test sat forward on his seat, his arms crossed on the bench in front of him. The other judge stayed slumped back, looking tired. Judge Test had his hand up and was saying something to the jurymen, seated over to the right against the side wall. Boone wondered if the pale judge was as sick as he looked. Beecher and the coldeyed man were putting questions to the jury. A man might get as white as that if he never let the weather touch him. The red-veined eyes swung around. "Let the witnesses be sworn. Stand up! Hold up your hand there, boy!"
". . sweart'ell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, s'helpyouGod?"
As the judge said "God" a queer look flashed over his face. His eyes flicked wide, as if he had been poked in the behind, and his jaw fell down and his mouth made a round hole in his face. His hands fluttered. There was the sound of wood splintering. Boone just caught a glimpse of the wide eyes and open mouth and the hands grabbing, and then the judge's face dropped out of sight behind the bench as if he were playing fort and had ducked a rock. Boone heard his rump thump on the platform. The pale judge seized the bench in front of him and held himself up while the other end of the seat beneath him went down. Judge Test got up, blowing and redder than ever. He said, "Dammit!" and looked at the sheriff. "It's the sheriff-'s job to see that this here courtroom is kept in repair."
The sheriff said something that Boone couldn't hear because people had begun to laugh. Judge Test pounded for silence. The cold-eyed man at the other table nodded wisely. He muttered, "It appears that this is a mighty weak bench."
They hollered then, the people at the other side of the
"That gun, he stoled it from me."
"How?"
"He just taken it, and I was aimin' to Sit it back."
"That's why you tackled him?"
"To git it back."
The squire hitched himself in his chair. "Look, boy! I'm on your side, but unless you tell me the facts of the case I can't help you. Start at the first now, and tell the whole story."
"Ain't nothin' to tell, savin' he came up on me two nights ago and gave me his name and took supper with me."
"Where?"
"Two days away, yonder."
"Then what?"
"He sneaked off in the night, takin' my gun and my horn and bullet pouch."
"When he came up on you, do you mean it was at your house?"
"Outside."
"How did you happen to be outside?"
Squire Beecher waited for an answer. "You mean you were traveling?"
"To St. Louis."
"From where?"
Again the squire waited. "Is this all you're going to tell me, just that this man Bedwell came up on you while you were camping out, and shared your supper and later stole off with your gun while you slept?"
Boone said, "That's all there is."
Squire Beecher bent his head and brought his queue around in front and fingered it while he thought. It was eelskin, likely, it was tied by. Beecher said, "You don't give yourself much chance. How do you happen to be tramping through Indiana with no money? You haven't any money, have you? No food? No horse?"
The sheriff's horn of a voice came into the room. "Court's ready, Beecher." While Beecher looked at him Boone said, "It don't matter. He stoled my rifle, I told you." The young lawyer got up, a frown wrinkling his smooth face. "Come on, then."
"Ready?" asked the red-faced judge. Squire Beecher nodded. "Ready as can be, Judge Test." To the sheriff the judge said, "Summon the jury." The sheriff strode to the door and bellowed "Jury!" like a man calling hogs. Afterward he came back and pounded on a table. "Oyez! Oyez!" There was a scuffling of feet as everybody stood. The voice boomed around the room. Beecher motioned Boone toward one of the tables. They sat down by it. Bedwell was seated at the other, and with him was a lean-faced man who kept fiddling with his chin. The man's eyes were so gray they were almost white, like glass, and, like glass, they looked hard and cool.
The fat man called Judge Test sat forward on his seat, his arms crossed on the bench in front of him. The other judge stayed slumped back, looking tired. Judge Test had his hand up and was saying something to the jurymen, seated over to the right against the side wall. Boone wondered if the pale judge was as sick as he looked. Beecher and the coldeyed man were putting questions to the jury. A man might get as white as that if he never let the weather touch him. The red-veined eyes swung around. "Let the witnesses be sworn. Stand up! Hold up your hand there, boy!"
". . sweart'ell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, s'helpyouGod?"
As the judge said "God" a queer look flashed over his face. His eyes flicked wide, as if he had been poked in the behind, and his jaw fell down and his mouth made a round hole in his face. His hands fluttered. There was the sound of wood splintering. Boone just caught a glimpse of the wide eyes and open mouth and the hands grabbing, and then the judge's face dropped out of sight behind the bench as if he were playing fort and had ducked a rock. Boone heard his rump thump on the platform. The pale judge seized the bench in front of him and held himself up while the other end of the seat beneath him went down. Judge Test got up, blowing and redder than ever. He said, "Dammit!" and looked at the sheriff. "It's the sheriff-'s job to see that this here courtroom is kept in repair."
The sheriff said something that Boone couldn't hear because people had begun to laugh. Judge Test pounded for silence. The cold-eyed man at the other table nodded wisely. He muttered, "It appears that this is a mighty weak bench."
They hollered then, the people at the other side of the
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