The Gringos

by B. M. Bower

  CHAPTER III

  THE THING THEY CALLED JUSTICE

  Jack stared meditatively across at the young fellow sitting hunchedupon another of the boxes that were the seats in this tent-jail, whichwas also the courtroom of the Vigilance Committee, and mechanicallycounted the slow tears that trickled down between the third and fourthfingers of each hand. A half-hour spent so would have rasped thenerves of the most phlegmatic man in the town, and Jack was notphlegmatic; fifteen minutes of watching that silent weeping sufficedto bring a muffled explosion.

  "Ah, for God's sake, brace up!" he gritted. "There's some hope foryou--if you don't spoil what chance you have got, by crying aroundlike a baby. Brace up and be a man, anyway. It won't hurt any worse ifyou grin about it."

  The young fellow felt gropingly for a red-figured bandanna, found itand wiped his face and his eyes dejectedly. "I beg your pardon forseeming a coward," he apologized huskily. "I got to thinking aboutmy--m-mother and sisters, and--"

  Jack winced. Mother and sisters he had longed for all his life. "Well,you better be thinking how you'll get out of the scrape you're in," headvised, with a little of Bill Wilson's grimness. "I'm afraid I'm toblame, in a way; and yet, if I hadn't mixed into the fight, you'dbe dead by now. Maybe that would have been just as well, seeing howthings have turned out," he grinned. "Still--have a smoke?"

  "I never used tobacco in my life," declined the youth somewhat primly.

  "No, I don't reckon you ever did!" Jack eyed him with a certain amountof pitying amusement. "A fellow that will come gold-hunting without agun to his name, would not use tobacco, or swear, or do anything thata perfect lady couldn't do! However, you put up a good fight with yourfists, old man, and that's something."

  "I'd have been killed, though, if you hadn't shot when you did. Theywere too much for me. I haven't tried to thank you--"

  "No, I shouldn't think you would," grinned Jack. "I don't see yetwhere I've done you any particular favor: from robbers to VigilanceCommittee might be called an up-to-date version of 'Out of thefrying-pan into the fire.'"

  The boy glanced fearfully toward the closed tent-flaps. "Ssh!" hewhispered. "The guard can hear--"

  "Oh, that's all right," returned Jack, urged perhaps to a consciousbravado by the very weakness of the other. "It's all day with me,anyway. I may as well say what I think.

  "And so--" He paused to blow one of his favorite little smoke ringsand watch it float to the dingy ridge-pole, where it flickered andfaded into a blue haze "--and so, I'm going to say right out inmeeting what I think of this town and the Committee they let measureout justice. Justice!" He laughed sardonically. "Poor old lady, shecouldn't stop within forty miles of Perkins' Committee if she hadforty bandages over her eyes, and both ears plugged with cotton!You wait till their farce of a trial is over. You may get off, by ascratch--I hope so. But unless Bill Wilson--"

  "Aw, yuh needn't pin no hopes on Bill Wilson!" came a heavy, maliciousvoice through the tent wall. "All hell can't save yuh, Jack Allen!You've had a ride out to the oak comin' to yuh for quite a while, andbefore sundown you'll get it."

  "Oh! Is that so, Shorty? Say, you're breaking the rules, you oldpirate; you're talking to the prisoners without permission. As theCaptain's most faithful dog Tray, you'd better shoot yourself; it'llsave the town the trouble of hanging you later on!" He smoked calmlywhile Shorty, on guard without, growled a vilifying retort, and theother guards snickered.

  "Ah, brace up!" he advised his quaking companion again. "If my companydoesn't damn you beyond all hope, you may get out of the scrape. Youdidn't have a gun, and you're a stranger and haven't said naughtythings about your neighbors. Cheer up. Life looks just as good to meas it does to you. I love this old world just as well as any man thatever lived in it, and I'm not a bit pleased over leaving it--any morethan you are. But I can't see where I could better matters by lettingmyself get wobbly in the knees. I'm sorry I didn't make a bigger fightto keep my guns, though. I'd like to have perforated a few more of ourmost worthy Committee before I quit; our friend Shorty, for instance,"he stipulated wickedly and clearly, "and the Captain."

  If he were deliberately trying to goad Shorty to further profanity,the result should have satisfied him. The huge shadow of Shorty movingback and forth upon the front wall of the tent, became violentlyagitated and developed a gigantic arm that waved threateningly overthe ridge pole. The other guards laughed and checked their laughterwith a suddenness which made Jack's eyes leave the dancing shadow andseek questioningly the closed tent flaps.

  "If I'm any good at reading signs, we are now about to be tried by ourpeers--twelve good men and true," he announced ironically. "Brace up,old man! The chances are you'll soon be out of this mess and headedfor home. Don't be afraid to tell the truth--and don't act scared;they'll take that as a sure sign you've got a guilty conscience. Justkeep a stiff upper lip; it won't take long; we do things in a hurry,out here!"

  "Say, you're a brick, Mr. Allen!" the boy burst out, impulsivelygripping the hand of his champion.

  Jack jerked his hand away--not unkindly, but rather as if he feared todrop, even for an instant, his flippant defiance of the trick fate hadplayed him. The jerk sent a small, shining thing sliding down to thefloor; where it stood upright and quivered in the soft sand.

  "Lord!" he ejaculated under his breath, snatching it up as a thiefwould snatch at his spoils. He looked fearfully at the closed flaps,outside which the trampling of many feet sounded closer and closer;and with a warning shake of his head at the other, slid the daggerinto his sleeve again, carefully fastening the point in the stout hemof the buckskin.

  "You never can tell," he muttered, smiling queerly as he made sure theweapon was not noticeable.

  He was rolling another cigarette when the Captain parted the tentflaps and came stooping in, followed by twelve men of the Committeewho were to be the jury, and as many spectators as could crowd afterthem.

  "Gentlemen, be seated," the Captain invited formally, and motioned thejury to the crude bunks that lined one side of the large tent. Jackand the boy he moved farther from the entrance, and took up his ownposition where his sharp eyes commanded every inch of the interior andwhere the gun which he drew from its holster and rested upon his kneecould speak its deadly rebuke to any man there if, in the upholding ofjustice, the Captain deemed it necessary.

  The jury shuffled to their places, perched in a row upon the edge ofthe bunks and waited silently, their eyes fixed expectantly upon theirCaptain. The crowd edged into the corners and along the sides, theirhat crowns scraping the canvas roof as they were forced closer to thelow wall.

  The Captain waited until the silence was a palpable thing made aliveby the rhythmic breathing of the men who were to look upon this newtravesty of justice.

  "Gentlemen," he said at last, his sonorous voice carrying his wordsdistinctly to the crowd without, "we are now ready to proceed with theinvestigation. I wish to state, for the information of those present,that after the prisoners were placed here under guard, I went to get astatement from the wounded man, Mr. Texas Bill. I found him dyingfrom a wound inflicted upon his person by a pistol ball which passedthrough his left lung, above and to the right of his heart. I did nottake a written statement, for lack of time and writing materials. ButTexas swore--"

  "Yeah--I'll bet he swore!" commented Bill Wilson under his breath.Every one looked toward Bill, standing just inside the flaps, and theCaptain scowled while he waited for attention.

  "Texas swore that he was shot by one of the prisoners, Jack Allen byname, who fired upon him without due provocation, while he was talkingto this other prisoner, whose name we have yet to learn. Texas statedthat Allen, appearing suddenly from behind some bushes, began shootingwith deadly intent and without warning, wantonly murdering RawhideJack, who lies dead in Smith's back room, and shooting him, Texas,through the lung. He also stated that Mr. Dick Swift was with him andRawhide Jack, and was also shot by the prisoner, Jack Allen, withoutcause or provocation.

  "They had met the stran
ger and were standing talking to him about hisluck in the diggin's. This stranger, who is the other prisoner,was inclined to be sassy, and made a pass at Rawhide with his fist,telling him to mind his own business and not ask so many questions.Rawhide struck back; and Allen, coming out from behind some bushes,began shooting."

  The Captain stopped and looked calmly and judicially from face to facein the crowd.

  "That, gentlemen, is the statement made to me by Texas Bill, whonow lies dead in Pete's Place as a result of the wound inflicted byAllen."

  "That's a lot of swearing for a man to do that's been shot through thelungs," commented Bill Wilson skeptically.

  The Captain gave him a malevolent look and continued. "We will askMr. Swift to come forward and tell us what he knows of this deplorableand, if I may be permitted the term, disgraceful affair."

  Mr. Swift edged his way carefully through the crowd with his left armthrust out to protect the right, which was bandaged and rested in ablood-stained sling. He asked permission to sit down; kicked a boxinto the small, open space between the Captain, the jury, and theprisoners, and seated himself with the air of a man about to performan extremely painful duty.

  "Hold up your right hand," commanded the Captain.

  Swift apologetically raised his left hand and gazed steadfastly intothe cold, impartial eyes of his Captain.

  "You swear that you will tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothingbut the truth, so-help-you-God?"

  Swift, his purplish eyes wide and clear and honest as the gaze of ababy, calmly affirmed that he did.

  Jack grinned and lazily fanned the smoke of his cigarette away, sothat he might the better gaze upon this man who was about to tellthe whole truth and nothing else. He caught Swift's eye and addeda sneering lift to the smile; and Swift's eyes changed from blandinnocence to hate triumphant.

  "Mr. Swift, you will now relate to us the circumstances of thisaffair, truthfully, in the order of their happening," directed thedeep voice of the Captain.

  Mr. Swift carefully eased his wounded arm in its sling, turned hisinnocent gaze upon the crowd, and began:

  "Texas, Rawhide, and myself were crossing the sandy stretch south oftown about noon, when we met this chap--the stranger there." He noddedslightly toward the boy. "I was walking behind the other two, but Iheard Rawhide say: 'Hello, son, any luck in the diggin's?' The kidsaid: 'None of your damn business!' That made Rawhide kinda mad, beingspoke to that way when he just meant to be friendly, and he told thekid he better keep a civil tongue in his head if he wanted to getalong smooth--or words to that effect. I don't," explained Mr. Swiftvirtuously, "remember the exact words, because I was looking at thefellow and wondering what made him so surly. He sassed Rawhide again,and told him to mind his own business and give advice when it wasasked for, and struck at him. Rawhide hit back, and then I heard ashot, and Rawhide fell over. I looked around quick, and startedto pull my gun, but a bullet hit me here--" Mr. Swift laid gentlefinger-tips upon his arm near the shoulder--"so I couldn't. I saw itwas Jack Allen shooting and coming towards us from a clump of bushesoff to the right of us. He shot again, and Texas Bill fell. I duckedbehind a bush and started for help, when I met the Captain and a fewothers coming out to see what was the matter. That," finished Mr.Swift, "is the facts of the case, just as they happened."

  The Captain waited a minute or two, that the "facts" might sink deepinto the minds of the listeners.

  "Were any shots fired by any one except Allen?" he asked coldly, whenthe silence was sufficiently emphasized.

  "There were not. Nobody," Swift flashed with a very human resentment,"had a chance after he commenced!" He flushed at the involuntarytribute to the prowess of his enemy, when he saw that maddeninggrin appear again on Jack's lips; a grin which called him liar andscoundrel and in the same flicker defied him.

  The investigation took on the color of a sensation at that point,when the stranger sprang suddenly to his feet and stood glaring at thewitness. There were no signs now of tears or weakness; he was a manfighting for what he believed to be right and just.

  "Captain, that man is a dirty liar!" he cried hotly. "He and hisprecious cronies tried to rob me, out there. I was coming into townfrom across the bay; I had hired a Spaniard to bring me across in asmall sailboat, and the tide carried us down too far, so I told him toland and I'd walk back to town, rather than tack back. And these menmet me, and tried to rob me! This man," he accused excitedly, pointinga rageful finger at Swift, "was going to stab me in the throat whenhe saw I resisted. I was fighting the three, and they were gettingthe best of me. I never owned a gun, and I just had my fists. The twoothers had grabbed me, and this man Swift pulled a knife. I rememberone of them saying: 'Don't shoot--it'll bring the whole town out!'And just as this one raised his knife to drive it into my throat--theywere bending me backwards, the other two--I heard a shot, and this onedropped his knife and gave a yell. There were two other shots, andthe two who were holding me dropped. This one ran off. Then--" The boyturned and looked down at Jack, smoking his cigarette and trying toread what lay behind the stolid stare of the twelve men who sat ina solemn row on the bunks opposite him. "This young man--" His lipstrembled, and he stopped, to bite them into a more manlike firmness.

  "Gentlemen, do what you like with me, but you've got to let this mango! He's the coolest, bravest man I ever saw! He saved my life. Youcan't hang him for protecting a man from murder and robbery!"

  "Young man," interrupted the Captain after a surprised silence, "weadmire your generosity in trying to clear your fellow prisoner, butyou must let this jury try his case. What's your name?"

  "John Belden, of Cambridge, Massachusetts." The young fellow's ragefaded to a sullen calm under the cold voice.

  The Captain made a startled movement and looked at him sharply. "Andwhat was your hurry to get to town?" he asked, after a minute.

  "I wanted to get a ticket on the boat, the _Mary Elizabeth_, that isgoing to leave for New York to-morrow. I wanted to go--home. I've hadenough of gold-hunting!" Youthful bitterness was in his tone and inthe look he turned on the jury.

  The Captain cleared his throat. When he spoke again, he addressed thetwelve before him:

  "Gentlemen of the jury, I have reasons for feeling convinced thatthis young man is in part telling the truth. I am acquainted with hisfather, unless he has given a name he does not own--and his face isa pretty good witness for him; he looks like his dad. While he hasundoubtedly glossed and warped the story of the shooting in a mistakeneffort to make things look better for the man who did the killing, Ican see no sufficient reason for holding him. This Committee standsfor justice and is not backward about tempering it with mercy.Gentlemen of the jury, I recommend that John Belden be released fromcustody and permitted to go home. He was unarmed when I took him, andthere is no evidence of his having dealt anything but hard words tothe victims of the shooting. Gentlemen, you will give your verdict;after which we will proceed with the investigation."

  The jury looked at one another and nodded to the man on the end ofthe first bunk; and he, shifting a quid of tobacco to the slack of hisright cheek, expectorated gravely into the sand and spoke solemnly:

  "The verdict of the jury is all in favor of turnin' the kid loose."

  "John Belden, you are released. And we'd advise you to be a littlecareful how you sass men in this country. Also, you better see aboutthat ticket on the _Mary Elizabeth_. Jack Allen, you may come forwardand take the oath."

  "This box is just as comfortable as that one," said Jack, "and youneedn't worry but what I'll tell the truth!" He took a last pull athis cigarette, pinched out the fire, and ground the stub under hisheel. He could feel the silence grow tense with expectancy; and whenhe lifted his eyes, he knew that every man in that tent was staringinto his face.

  "I used to believe," he began clearly, "in the Vigilantes. If I hadbeen here when the first Committee was formed, I'd have worked for itmyself. I believe it cleared the town of some of the worst scoundrelsin the country, and that's saying a good
deal. But--"

  "The Committee," interrupted the Captain, "would like to hear yourstory of the shooting. Your private opinions can wait until theinvestigation of that affair is ended."

  "You're right. I beg your pardon for forgetting that it is not settledyet!" Jack's voice was politely scornful. "Well, then, this kid toldthe truth in every particular, even when he declared that Dick Swiftis a dirty liar. Swift is a liar. He's also a thief, and he's also amurderer--and a few other things not as decent!

  "As to the row, I was walking out that way, when I saw this kid comingup from the bay toward the town. The three, Swift, Rawhide Jack, andTexas Bill, met him where the--er--trouble took place. I was too faroff to hear what was said; in fact, I didn't pay any attention much,till I saw the kid struggling to get away. I walked towards them then.It was easy enough to see that it was a hold-up, pure and simple. Iwas about fifty yards from them when I saw Swift, here, raise a knifeto jab it into the boy's throat. Texas and Rawhide were both holdingthe kid's arms and bending him backwards so he couldn't do anything.When I saw the knife, I began to shoot." His eyes sought those of BillWilson, standing in the crowd near the door. "That's the truth of thewhole matter," he said, speaking directly to Bill. "I didn't try tomake trouble; but I couldn't stand by and see a man murdered, no morethan any decent man could." He paused; and still looking toward Bill,added: "I didn't even notice particularly who the men were, until Iwent up to the boy. It all happened so sudden that I--"

  The Captain cleared his throat. "You admit, then, that you killedRawhide Jack and Texas Bill this morning?"

  "I surely do," retorted Jack. "And if you want to know, I'm kindaproud of it; it was a long shot--to clean the town of two suchblackguards. And right here I want to apologize to the town for makinga bungle of killing Swift!"

  "We have two witnesses who also swear that you killed Tex' andRawhide, though they give a very different version of the trouble withthe boy. Would you ask us to believe that Texas Bill lied with hislast breath?"

  "If he told the story you say he did, he certainly lied most sinfullywith his last breath; but I'd hate to take your word for anything, soI don't know whether he lied or not."

  "Mr. Swift, here, tells the same story that Texas Bill told." TheCaptain chose to ignore the insults. "I think their testimony shouldcarry more weight with the Committee than yours, or the boy's. You aretrying to save your neck; and the boy probably feels that he owes yousome gratitude for taking his part. But the Committee's business is toweed out the dangerous element which is altogether too large in thistown; and the Committee feels that you are one of the most dangerous.However, we will call another witness. Shorty, you may come forward."

  Shorty came scowling up and sat down upon the box Swift had occupied.He took the oath and afterwards declared that he had overheard Jackcoaching the boy about what he should tell the Committee. The Captain,having brought out that point, promptly excused him.

  "Gentlemen of the jury, you have heard the evidence, and your duty isplain. We are waiting for the verdict."

  The man with the cud looked a question at the Captain; turnedand glanced down the row at the eleven, who nodded their heads inunanimous approval of his thoughts. He once more shifted the wadof tobacco, as a preliminary to expectorating gravely into the sandfloor, and pronounced his sentence with a promptness that savored ofrelish:

  "The verdict of the jury is that we hang Jack Allen for killin' Texasand Rawhide, and for bein' a mean, ornery cuss, anyway."

  The Captain turned coldly to the prisoner. "You hear the verdict. TheCommittee believes it to be just."

  He looked at the group near the door. "Mr. Wilson," he calledmaliciously, "you will now be given an opportunity to collect from theprisoner what he owes you."

  "Jack Allen don't owe me a cent!" cried Bill Wilson hotly, shoulderinghis way to the open space before the Captain. "But there's a heavydebt hanging over this damned Committee--a debt they'll have to paythemselves one day at the end of a rope, if there's as many honest menin this town as I think there is.

  "I helped form the first Vigilance Committee, boys. We did it toprotect the town from just such men as are running the Committee rightnow. When crimes like this can be done right before our eyes, in broaddaylight, I say it's time another Committee was formed, to hang thisone! Here they've got a man that they know, and we all know, ain'tdone a thing but what any brave, honest man would do. They've gonethrough a farce trial that'd make the Digger Injuns ashamed ofthemselves; and they've condemned Jack Allen, that's got more realmanhood in his little finger than there is in the dirty, lyingcarcasses of the whole damned outfit--they've condemned him to behung!

  "And why! I can tell yuh why--and it ain't for killing Texas andRawhide--two as measly, ornery cusses as there was in town--it ain'tfor that. It's for daring to say, last night in my place, that theCommittee is rotten to the core, and that they murdered Sandy McTavishin cold blood when they took him out and hung him for killing thatgreaser in self-defense. It's for speaking his mind, the mind of anhonest man, that they're going to hang him. That is, they'll hang himif you'll stand by and let 'em do it. I believe both these boys told astraight story. I believe them three was trying to pull off a daylightrobbery, and Jack shot to save the kid.

  "Now, men, see here! I for one have stood about all I'm going to standfrom this bunch of cutthroats that've taken the place of the Committeewe organized to protect the town. To-night I want every man that callshimself honest to come to my place and hold a mass meeting, to elect aCommittee like we had in the first place. I want every man--"

  "Bill, you're crazy!" It was Jack, white to the lips in sheer terrorfor Wilson, Jack who refused to blench at his own dire strait, whosprang up and clapped a hand over the mouth that was sealing the doomof the owner. "Take him out, Jim, for God's sake! Take him--Bill,listen to me, you fool! What was it you were telling me, there in yourown doorway, to-day? About not thinking out loud? You can't save me bytalking like that! These men--those that don't hate me--are so scaredof their own necks that they wouldn't lift a finger to save a twinbrother. Take him out, boys! Bill doesn't mean any harm." He tried tosmile and failed utterly. "He likes me, and he's--he's--"

  Shorty it was who jerked him away from Bill. The Captain, on his feet,was dominating the uneasy crowd with his cold stare more than with thegun he held in his hand.

  "This Committee," he stated in his calm, judicial tone, which chilledthe growing fire of excitement and held the men silent that they mightlisten, "this Committee regrets that in the course of its unpleasantduties it must now and then rouse the antagonism of a bad man'sfriends. But this Committee must perform the duties for which it waselected. This Committee is sorry to see Mr. Wilson take the stand hetakes, but it realizes that friendship for the condemned man leadshim to make statements and threats for which he should not be heldresponsible. Gentlemen, this court of inquiry is dismissed, and itmay not be amiss to point out the necessity for order being maintainedamong you. The Committee would deeply regret any trouble arising atthis time."

  "Oh, damn you and your Committee!" gritted Bill Wilson, out of thebitterness that filled him. He gave Jack one glance; one, and with hisjaws set hard together, turned his back.

  The crowd pushed and parted to make way for him. Jim, his face thecolor of a pork rind, followed dog-like at the heels of his boss. Andwhen they had passed, the tent began to belch forth men who walkedwith heads and shoulders a little bent, talking together under theirbreaths of this man who dared defy the Committee to its face, andwhose daring was as impotent as the breeze that still pulled at theflapping corner of the cloth sign over the door of his place.

  Bill glanced dully up at the sign before he opened his door. "Betterget the hammer and nail that corner down, Jim," he said morosely,and went in. He poured a whisky glass two-thirds full of liquor andemptied it with one long swallow--and Bill was not a drinking man.

  "God! This thing they call justice!" he groaned, as he set down theglass; and went out to make an attempt at organizing
a rescue party,though he had little hope of succeeding. Jack was a stranger to thebetter class of business men, and those who did know him were eitherfriends of the Committee or in deadly fear of it. Still, Bill wasa gambler. He was probably putting the mark of the next victim onhimself; but he did not stop for that.