Read Online The Wishing Star by Marian Wells - Free Book Online Page A

knelt down and prayed while Joe slit the lamb’s throat and spread the blood around the hole. This was a propitiation to the spirit. But we never did get the money.”
    A sigh swept the room and Jenny squirmed and looked at Tom. “’Tweren’t the time you was there,” he muttered.
    As the day warmed, the crowded room grew stuffy. More witnesses were called, and Jenny moved restlessly on the bench. When the last witness had taken his seat, the heads of the justices tilted together.
    Justice Neely then slowly got to his feet. His voice droned in the heavy air of the room. Although Jenny strained to understand, his words were meaningless to her until she heard, “We the court find the defendant—guilty as charged.”
    There was a second of silence, and in the breathless pause Jenny saw Joe leap to his feet and dash through the crowded room. But Jenny’s eyes were riveted on the men at the front of the room.
    Justice Neely was still standing, hands calm at his side. The other justices hunched over the table just as quietly, watching Joe run. He passed the constable who was sitting beside the door with his chair tilted back against the wall, his hat shading his eyes.
    â€œHe’s gone,” Tom breathed softly. “He’s taken leg bail, and I’ve a notion they don’t care a snitch. Reckon we’ll never see the likes of him again.” There was a twinge of regret in his voice.
    Over the sudden babble of voices, Justice Neely shouted, “Court is closed for this session!”
    The only sounds in the stifling room were the rustle of skirts and the clatter of heavy boots. Slowly Tom and Jenny got to their feet to follow the crowd out the door. Jenny peered around Tom and saw the justices clustered by the table talking. She measured the distance and studied their broad, black backs. With a quick movement, she turned and dashed to the front of the room. The man with the white hair and the walking stick was saying, “I just can’t see crippling the chances of this young fellow. He looks like, given a proper chance, he’ll make good. I hope my hunch isn’t wrong. Otherwise I’ll be regretting this the rest of my life.”
    â€œI hope so, too. He was pretty eager to take leg bail once it was suggested. Must have had a few fears—at least he sure could run.” The black-coated men moved restlessly and Jenny scooted for the door.
    When she caught up with Tom, the crowd was standing in the street, somber-faced and questioning. Tom and Jenny joined the others and watched as the building was locked. They were still waiting as the line of dark coats moved quietly down the street with the constable following along behind. Now his hat was squared on his head and his hunch-shouldered gait made him look like a gnarled guardian angel, a protective shield between the justices and the questioning citizens of South Bainbridge.
    When the last man had disappeared from sight, the crowd stirred. “Why do you suppose they went to all that trouble and then just set there and let him run?”
    â€œHe weren’t much more’n a tad,” a sympathetic voice answered. “Those gentlemen are right fatherly. I hear they’re feelin’ he’s a deprived youth who needs a good warnin’ to straighten him up.”
    â€œI wonder if that’s really the case,” came a voice from the depths of the crowd. “Is that all he is? There’s been a heap of riling up since he’s been around. I’ll not forget the way those fellas toted Peddler Harper down off the hill, stone-cold.”
    Jenny squirmed her way through the crowd to see the speaker’s face, and the square-shouldered man standing beside him turned to look at her. It was Mark Cartwright. For a moment, Jenny’s eyes caught his and she saw the questioning frown.
    Now another spoke reluctantly, “I heard a fella say, and I’m not mentioning names, that he