The Little Shepherd of Kingdom Come

by John Fox

  CHAPTER 13.

  ON TRIAL FOR HIS LIFE

  By degrees the whole story was told Chad that night. Now and then theTurners would ask him about his stay in the Bluegrass, but the boywould answer as briefly as possible and come back to Jack. Before goingto bed, Chad said he would bring Jack into the house:

  "Somebody might pizen him," he explained, and when he came back, hestartled the circle about the fire:

  "Whar's Whizzer?" he asked, sharply. "Who's seen Whizzer?"

  Then it developed that no one had seen the Dillon dog--since the daybefore the sheep was found dead near a ravine at the foot of themountain in a back pasture. Late that afternoon Melissa had foundWhizzer in that very pasture when she was driving old Betsy, thebrindle, home at milking-time. Since then, no one of the Turners hadseen the Dillon dog. That, however, did not prove that Whizzer was notat home. And yet,

  "I'd like to know whar Whizzer is now!" said Chad, and, after, at oldJoel's command, he had tied Jack to a bedpost--an outrage that puzzledthe dog sorely--the boy threshed his bed for an hour--trying to thinkout a defence for Jack and wondering if Whizzer might not have beenconcerned in the death of the sheep.

  It is hardly possible that what happened, next day, could happenanywhere except among simple people of the hills. Briefly, the oldSquire and the circuit-rider had brought old Joel to the point ofsaying, the night before, that he would give Jack up to be killed, ifhe could be proven guilty. But the old hunter cried with an oath:

  "You've got to prove him guilty." And thereupon the Squire said hewould give Jack every chance that he would give a man--HE WOULD TRYHIM; each side could bring in witnesses; old Joel could have a lawyerif he wished, and Jack's case would go before a jury. If pronouncedinnocent, Jack should go free: if guilty--then the dog should be handedover to the sheriff, to be shot at sundown. Joel agreed.

  It was a strange procession that left the gate of the Turner cabin nextmorning. Old Joel led the way, mounted, with "ole Sal," his rifle,across his saddle-bow. Behind him came Mother Turner and Melissa onfoot and Chad with his rifle over his left shoulder, and leading Jackby a string with his right hand. Behind them slouched Tall Tom with hisrifle and Dolph and Rube, each with a huge old-fashioned horse-pistolswinging from his right hip. Last strode the school-master. The cabinwas left deserted--the hospitable door held closed by a deer-skin latchcaught to a wooden pin outside.

  It was a strange humiliation to Jack thus to be led along the highway,like a criminal going to the gallows. There was no power on earth thatcould have moved him from Chad's side, other than the boy's owncommand--but old Joel had sworn that he would keep the dog tied and theold hunter always kept his word. He had sworn, too, that Jack shouldhave a fair trial. Therefore, the guns--and the school-master walkedwith his hands behind him and his eyes on the ground: he feared trouble.

  Half a mile up the river and to one side of the road, a space of somethirty feet square had been cut into a patch of rhododendron and filledwith rude benches of slabs--in front of which was a rough platform onwhich sat a home-made, cane-bottomed chair. Except for the opening fromthe road, the space was walled with a circle of living green throughwhich the sun dappled the benches with quivering disks of yellowlight--and, high above, great poplars and oaks arched their mightyheads. It was an open-air "meeting-house" where the circuit-riderpreached during his summer circuit and there the trial was to takeplace.

  Already a crowd was idling, whittling, gossiping in the road, when theTurner cavalcade came in sight--and for ten miles up and down the riverpeople were coming in for the trial.

  "Mornin', gentlemen," said old Joel, gravely.

  "Mornin'," answered several, among whom was the Squire, who eyed Joel'sgun and the guns coming up the road.

  "Squirrel-huntin'?" he asked and, as the old hunter did not answer, headded, sharply:

  "Air you afeerd, Joel Turner, that you ain't a-goin' to git justicefrom ME?"

  "I don't keer whar it comes from," said Joel, grimly--"but I'm a-goin'to HAVE it."

  It was plain that the old man not only was making no plea for sympathy,but was alienating the little he had: and what he had was very little,for who but a lover of dogs can give full sympathy to his kind? And,then, Jack was believed to be guilty. It was curious to see how eachDillon shrank unconsciously as the Turners gathered--all but Jerry, oneof the giant twins. He always stood his ground--fearing nor man, nordog--nor devil.

  Ten minutes later, the Squire took his seat on the platform, while thecircuit-rider squatted down beside him. The crowd, men and women andchildren, took the rough benches. To one side sat and stood theDillons, old Tad and little Tad, Daws, Nance, and others of the tribe.Straight in front of the Squire gathered the Turners about Melissa andChad--and Jack as a centre--with Jack squatted on his hanches foremostof all, facing the Squire with grave dignity and looking at none elsesave, occasionally, the old hunter or his little master.

  To the right stood the sheriff with his rifle, and on the outskirtshung the school-master. Quickly the old Squire chose a jury--giving oldJoel the opportunity to object as he called each man's name. Old Joelobjected to none, for every man called, he knew, was more friendly tohim than to the Dillons: and old Tad Dillon raised no word of protest,for he knew his case was clear. Then began the trial, and any soul thatwas there would have shuddered could he have known how that trial wasto divide neighbor against neighbor, and mean death and bloodshed forhalf a century after the trial itself was long forgotten.

  The first witness, old Tad--long, lean, stooping, crafty--had seen thesheep rushing wildly up the hill-side "'bout crack o' day," he said,and had sent Daws up to see what the matter was. Daws had shouted back:

  "That damned Turner dog has killed one o' our sheep. Thar he comes now.Kill him!" And old Tad had rushed in-doors for his rifle and had takena shot at Jack as he leaped into the road and loped for home. Just thena stern, thick little voice rose from behind Jack:

  "Hit was a God's blessin' fer you that you didn't hit him."

  The Squire glared down at the boy and old Joel said, kindly:

  "Hush, Chad."

  Old Dillon had then gone down to the Turners and asked them to kill thedog, but old Joel had refused.

  "Whar was Whizzer?" Chad asked, sharply.

  "You can't axe that question," said the Squire. "Hit'ser-er-irrelevant."

  Daws came next. When he reached the fence upon the hill-side he couldsee the sheep lying still on the ground. As he was climbing over, theTurner dog jumped the fence and Daws saw blood on his muzzle.

  "How close was you to him?" asked the Squire.

  "'Bout twenty feet," said Daws.

  "Humph!" said old Joel.

  "Whar was Whizzer?" Again the old Squire glared down at Chad.

  "Don't you axe that question again, boy. Didn't I tell you hit wasirrelevant?"

  "What's irrelevant?" the boy asked, bluntly.

  The Squire hesitated. "Why--why, hit ain't got nothin' to do with thecase."

  "Hit ain't?" shouted Chad.

  "Joel," said the Squire, testily, "ef you don't keep that boy still,I'll fine him fer contempt o' court."

  Joel laughed, but he put his heavy hand on the boy's shoulder. LittleTad Dillon and Nance and the Dillon mother had all seen Jack runningdown the road. There was no doubt but that it was the Turner dog. Andwith this clear case against poor Jack, the Dillons rested. And whatelse could the Turners do but establish Jack's character and put in aplea of mercy--a useless plea, old Joel knew--for a first offence? Jackwas the best dog old Joel had ever known, and the old man toldwonderful tales of the dog's intelligence and kindness and how onenight Jack had guarded a stray lamb that had broken its leg--untildaybreak--and he had been led to the dog and the sheep by Jack'sbarking for help. The Turner boys confirmed this story, though it wasreceived with incredulity.

  How could a dog that would guard one lone helpless lamb all night longtake the life of another?

  There was no witness that had aught but kind words to say o
f the dog oraught but wonder that he should have done this thing--even back to thecattle-dealer who had given him to Chad. For at that time the dealersaid--so testified Chad, no objection being raised to hearsayevidence--that Jack was the best dog he ever knew. That was all theTurners or anybody could do or say, and the old Squire was about toturn the case over to the jury when Chad rose:

  "Squire," he said and his voice trembled, "Jack's my dog. I lived withhim night an' day for 'bout three years an' I want to axe somequestions."

  He turned to Daws:

  "I want to axe you ef thar was any blood around that sheep."

  "Thar was a great big pool o' blood," said Daws, indignantly. Chadlooked at the Squire.

  "Well, a sheep-killin' dog don't leave no great big pool o' blood,Squire, with the FUST one he kills! He SUCKS it!" Several men noddedtheir heads.

  "Squire! The fust time I come over these mountains, the fust people Iseed was these Dillons--an' Whizzer. They sicked Whizzer on Jack hyehand Jack whooped him. Then Tad thar jumped me and I whooped him." (TheTurner boys were nodding confirmation.) "Sence that time they've hatedJack an' they've hated me and they hate the Turners partly fer takin'keer o' me. Now you said somethin' I axed just now was irrelevant, butI tell you, Squire, I know a sheep-killin' dawg, and jes' as I knowJack AIN'T, I know the Dillon dawg naturely is, and I tell you, if theDillons' dawg killed that sheep and they could put it on Jack--they'ddo it. They'd do it--Squire, an' I tell you, you--ortern't--tolet--that sheriff--thar--shoot my--dog--until the Dillons answers whatI axed--" the boy's passionate cry rang against the green walls and outthe opening and across the river--

  "WHAR'S WHIZZER?"

  The boy startled the crowd and the old Squire himself, who turnedquickly to the Dillons.

  "Well, whar is Whizzer?"

  Nobody answered.

  "He ain't been seen, Squire, sence the evenin' afore the night o' thekillin'!" Chad's statement seemed to be true. Not a voice contradicted.

  "An' I want to know if Daws seed signs o' killin' on Jack's head whenhe jumped the fence, why them same signs didn't show when he got home."

  Poor Chad! Here old Tad Dillon raised his hand.

  "Axe the Turners, Squire," he said, and as the school-master on theoutskirts shrank, as though he meant to leave the crowd, the old man'squick eye caught the movement and he added:

  "Axe the school-teacher!"

  Every eye turned with the Squire's to the master, whose face wasstrangely serious straightway.

  "Did you see any signs on the dawg when he got home?" The gaunt manhesitated, with one swift glance at the boy, who almost paled in answer.

  "Why," said the school-master, and again he hesitated, but old Joel, ina voice that was without hope, encouraged him:

  "Go on!"

  "What was they?"

  "Jack had blood on his muzzle, and a little strand o' wool behind oneear."

  There was no hope against that testimony. Melissa broke away from hermother and ran out to the road--weeping. Chad dropped with a sob to hisbench and put his arms around the dog: then he rose up and walked outthe opening while Jack leaped against his leash to follow. Theschool-master put out his hand to stop him, but the boy struck it asidewithout looking up and went on. He could not stay to see Jackcondemned. He knew what the verdict would be, and in twenty minutes thejury gave it, without leaving their seats.

  "Guilty!"

  The Sheriff came forward. He knew Jack and Jack knew him, and waggedhis tail and whimpered up at him when he took the leash.

  "Well, by ----, this is a job I don't like, an' I'm damned ef I'magoin' to shoot this dawg afore he knows what I'm shootin' him fer. I'mgoin' to show him that sheep fust. Whar's that sheep, Daws?"

  Daws led the way down the road, over the fence, across the meadow, andup the hill-side where lay the slain sheep. Chad and Melissa saw themcoming--the whole crowd--before they themselves were seen. For a minutethe boy watched them. They were going to kill Jack where the Dillonssaid he had killed the sheep, and the boy jumped to his feet and ran upthe hill a little way and disappeared in the bushes, that he might nothear Jack's death-shot, while Melissa sat where she was, watching thecrowd come on. Daws was at the foot of the hill, and she saw him make agesture toward her, and then the Sheriff came on with Jack--over thefence, past her, the Sheriff saying, kindly, "Howdy, Melissa. I shorelyam sorry ta have to kill Jack," and on to the dead sheep, which layfifty yards beyond. If the Sheriff expected to drop head and tail andlook mean he was greatly mistaken. Jack neither hung back nor sniffedat the carcass. Instead he put one fore foot on it and with the otherbent in the air, looked without shame into the Sheriff's eyes--as muchas to say:

  "Yes, this is a wicked and shameful thing, but what have I got to dowith it? Why are you bringing ME here?"

  The Sheriff came back greatly puzzled and shaking his head. PassingMelissa, he stopped to let the unhappy little girl give Jack a lastpat, and it was there that Jack suddenly caught scent of Chad's tracks.With one mighty bound the dog snatched the rawhide string from thecareless Sheriff's hand, and in a moment, with his nose to the ground,was speeding up toward the woods. With a startled yell and a frightfuloath the Sheriff threw his rifle to his shoulder, but the little girlsprang up and caught the barrel with both hands, shaking it fiercely upand down and hieing Jack on with shriek after shriek. A minute laterJack had disappeared in the bushes, Melissa was running like the winddown the hill toward home, while the whole crowd in the meadow wasrushing up toward the Sheriff, led by the Dillons, who were yelling andswearing like madmen. Above them, the crestfallen Sheriff waited. TheDillons crowded angrily about him, gesticulating and threatening, whilehe told his story. But nothing could be done--nothing. They did notknow that Chad was up in the woods or they would have gone in search ofhim--knowing that when they found him they would find Jack--but to lookfor Jack now would be like searching for a needle in a hay-stack. Therewas nothing to do, then, but to wait for Jack to come home, which hewould surely do--to get to Chad--and it was while old Joel waspromising that the dog should be surrendered to the Sheriff that littleTad Dillon gave an excited shriek.

  "Look up thar!"

  And up there at the edge of the wood was Chad standing and, at hisfeet, Jack sitting on his haunches, with his tongue out and looking asthough nothing had happened or could ever happen to Chad or to him.

  "Come up hyeh," shouted Chad.

  "You come down hyeh," shouted the Sheriff, angrily. So Chad came down,with Jack trotting after him. Chad had cut off the rawhide string, butthe Sheriff caught Jack by the nape of the neck.

  "You won't git away from me agin, I reckon."

  "Well, I reckon you ain't goin' to shoot him," said Chad. "Leggo thatdawg."

  "Don't be a fool, Jim," said old Joel. "The dawg ain't goin' to leavethe boy." The Sheriff let go.

  "Come on up hyeh," said Chad. "I got somethin' to show ye."

  The boy turned with such certainty that with out a word Squire,Sheriff, Turners, Dillons, and spectators followed. As they approacheda deep ravine the boy pointed to the ground where were evidences ofsome fierce struggle--the dirt thrown up, and several small stonesscattered about with faded stains of blood on them.

  "Wait hyeh!" said the boy, and he slid down the ravine and appearedagain dragging something after him. Tall Tom ran down to help him andthe two threw before the astonished crowd the body of a black and whitedog. "Now I reckon you know whar Whizzer is," panted Chad vindictivelyto the Dillons.

  "Well, what of it?" snapped Daws

  "Oh, nothin'," said the boy with fine sarcasm. "Only WHIZZER killedthat sheep and Jack killed Whizzer." From every Dillon throat came ascornful grunt.

  "Oh, I reckon so," said Chad, easily. "Look dhar!" He lifted the deaddog's head, and pointed at the strands of wool between his teeth. Heturned it over, showing the deadly grip in the throat and close to thejaws, that had choked the life from Whizzer--Jack's own grip.

  "Ef you will jes' rickollect, Jack had that same grip the timeafore--when
I pulled him off o' Whizzer."

  "By ----, that is so," said Tall Tom, and Dolph and Rube echoed himamid a dozen voices, for not only old Joel, but many of his neighborsknew Jack's method of fighting, which had made him a victor up and downthe length of Kingdom Come.

  There was little doubt that the boy was right--that Jack had come onWhizzer killing the sheep, and had caught him at the edge of theravine, where the two had fought, rolling down and settling the oldfeud between them in the darkness at the bottom. And up there on thehill-side, the jury that pronounced Jack guilty pronounced himinnocent, and, as the Turners started joyfully down the hill, the sunthat was to have sunk on Jack stiff in death sank on Jack friskingbefore them--home.

  And yet another wonder was in store for Chad. A strange horse with astrange saddle was hitched to the Turner fence; beside it was an oldmare with a boy's saddle, and as Chad came through the gate a familiarvoice called him cheerily by name. On the porch sat Major Buford.