T H E T O R C H OF R E A S O N , S IL V E R T O N , O R E G O N , T H U R S D A Y , M A R C H 4, 1897.
GOLDEN THRONE
[ a ROMANCE BY SAMUEL P. PUTNAM.]
W ell, th ey stood facing each
other, th e big and th e little crowd;
and, somehow or other, the little
crowd seemed to be getting the best
o fit, and there was a perceptible
sh rin k in g in the bigcrow d. It isn ’t
alw ays num bers th a t win. Still,
however there m ight have been a
bloody fight; but the deacon, who
u n til now’ had been strong for
hanging, seeing th a t the opposition
W’as pretty vigorous, changed his
tactics, p ut up his p isto l,an d said:
“ Well, give the boy a chance.
H e’ll have to hang anyw ay, for
th ere’s no doubt of his convicton.
In the mean tim e, I ’ll lend him my
bible and persuade him to study
th e catechism . It is possible th at
he m ay be washed in the blood of
the lam b and wear a robe of white.
I ’ll put up mv pistol, and s ta rt a
prayer-m eeting for his sak e.”
The words and act of the eow anlly
deacon gave a chance for the others
to back gracefully down. They p u t
up their pistols, all except Dick.
He was still pugnacious. But he
was entirely alone, and he saw the
uselessness of m aking any fu rth e r
effort. He was now in a m inority
of one; and he was not fitted by
nature to fulfill the responsibilities
of such a position, so with a glum
countenance he subm itted to th e
tu rn of fortune.
‘‘Well, I wash m y hands of the
business,” lie said, as lie put up his
pistols ‘‘W e’ll wait, and give tha
prisoner a tria l. It'll am ount to the
sam e in the end. IIow much tim e
do you w an t?”
“ A w eek’ll do,” said C harlie.
“ I)o you g ra n t it?
“ We do,” said the man.
“ Will you keep the boy, and
prom ise to give him up a t the tim e
set, Dick?” said C harlie.
“ Indeed, I w ill,” said Dick. “ No­
body sh all touch or in ju re him.
I ’ll feed him well, and give him a
good bed. T here’s m y word for it,”
an d he gave his hand to Charlie.
“ Go,” said C harlie to little Pete,
“ you are as safe with him as with
your own m other now. I will see
you to-m orrow .
I will be your
council an d defend you, an d , it
possible, prove y o u r innocence.
Paddie, I w ant you with Jennie to
give me a lift on th is case.
I'll
m anage the evidence, and you m ust
m ake the p lea.”
Now’ th a t Big Dick was constable
instead of hangm an,
he was
determ ined to do his dutv •» to the
utm ost, and keep Pete in good con­
dition u n til the trial.
“ Come, my little fellow,” said he,
“ you need n 't be afraid. You are
safe with me until after th e trial,
then the devil m ay have his own.
I ’ll m ake you as com fort able as I
can. Don’t crv now. If I was as
sure of a week's good liv in g as you
are, I'd be happy. 'T isn ’t every­
body can look forward to as much
as th a t."
They all adjourn« d to supper, and
pretty soon the night was as q u iet
as if nothing had happened.
C hapter V III.
Old Maddox had been killed the
night before, evidently m urdered;
for all his savings were gone. At
the sam e tune little Pete had
m ysteriously disappeared. An im ­
m ediate search was made, and miles
from cam p, fleeing as if for his very
life, was discovered the cu lp rit;
and, as if to m ake his guilt u n ­
doubted, lie was on the very horse
th a t Maddox «iwned. The money
was not found.
P robably, he had
flung it aw ay when he saw the
pursuers ch se upon him. H e was
trem bling with terror, an d could
scarcely speak a word. Only now
and then could he shriek out and
piteously b tg for m ercy.
The rude men who captured him
had no more doubt of his guilt th an
th a t the sun shone, and on their
arriv al at cam p proceeded to lynch
him ; and not a protest would have
been m ade on his behalf, had it not
been for the opportune arriv al of
M orton. He saved him for the tim e
being, but there was little hope of
his acq u ittal, and bis doom seemed
certain.
“ Well, the little cuss shall have
a fair trial anyw ay,” said M >rton,
as he sat in bis cabin, talk in g over
th e m atter with Paddie Jo h n ami
Jim m y, the “m inister,” early the
next m oning. “ T h a t’ll be better
th an n o th in g .”
“ It w on't do him much good,
unless he gets converted, as G >»ch
says,” said Paddie.
“ I rath er
th in k he is guilty. T here’s nobody
else did it, and then why in the
devil did he run off?”
“ I t's all against him , I know ,” said
C harlie; “ bu, I ’m going to do some­
th in g for him.
I d o n ’t like to
believe th a t he’d do such a horrible
deed as th a t.”
“ But h e ’s such a weird-looking,
little,sn ea k in g fellow’,” said Paddie.
“ It m akes me shudder to look at
him , he’s so ghost like. H e’s one
of those dam ned New York waifs
th a t alm ost live on air Moated out
here from F i\e Points. He hasn ’t
any more conscience th a n a ghoul.
He wars conceived in crim e an 1
born io in iq u ity , and in th a t respect
he beats David all hollow. H e’s
a living specimen of original sin.”
“ I guess you are rig h t,’’ said
Jim m y.
“ In m y younger days,
when I was a theological student
and thought I could do an y th in g
for the Lord, I trie d to convert
some of these little devils. I had
my hands full.
They stole all the
hvm
• n-books and mv *■ hat and cane
the first S unday; atnl I had to walk
home bareheaded, and caught cold.
I'vealw ays thought the Lord d id n ’t
treat me fair on th a t occasion. He
ought to have perform ed a m iracle
and kept my head clear, seeing
th a t I was doing so m uch, or at
least try in g to, for his kingdom.
Yes, the devil himself would have
“ F rightened?
F rightened at
to run aw ay from such youngsters,
in order to be decent. I ’m ready w hat?”
“ At som ething,—som ebody,--a
to h elp you d efend him .
“ I d o n ’t believe he is as bad as m an th a t I saw .”
he looks,” said C harlie. “ I know
“ A m an? W hat m an?”
he has strange ways about him.
“ I d o n ’t know*. I saw him just
His eyes are wild and w andering at d a rk , and I tried to «scape.”
as a haw k’s, and sh arp w ithal as
“ W as it any m an in the camp?
steel. H e keeps him self away from
“ Oh, no, s< mt body I hadn,t seen
us.
H e acts shv; but I believe before,—that is, for a lo n g tim e .”
there’s some good in him .
I feel
“ A strange m an in the cam p?
as if I m ust get him acquitted, and A re y o u su re o f this?”
let him go.
He ought to have
“ Yes, he was rough-looking, not
another chance in th e world. I t ’s dressed like a miner. The m om ent
too bad to hang him now.”
it was dark, I took the first horse I
“ I presum e it would be better to could find am i started off. Oh, I
wait until he has killed three or w anted io go like the wind.
I
four other rascals asb ad as him self. thought th a t m an was pu rsu in g me.
But it’s a m ighty .-mall chance he How his eyes glared! Save me! I
has. W here’s the evidence? You would rath e r perish w ith these rude
haven’t a pin to stand on.
It's men th an to have him touch m e.”
dead against him . I t ’s alm ost as
“ I m ust sift this m a tte r.” said
much as my life’s worth to make a C h a rlie
plea for h im ,” said Paddie.
“ It c a n ’t be th at you are d eceiv ­
“ W e ll,y o u m u s t d o it; it I haven’t ing me. Come, boy, look me in the
th e facts to acq u it h im . then I w ant face! .Just give me one square look!
your im agination,” said C harlie. Don’t let your eyes w ander so. Tell
*
.
“ Im agination is som etim es better me is this true th a t you have said
th an facts. I’ll go over and see to me.”
“ The bright eyes of the boy looked
Pete, and get som ething out of him.
I hope he’s some sort of a story to C harlie full in the face. They were
liquid, unfathom able, as if born
tell.”
T in y
“ How’s your prisoner?” said he beneath a southern sky.
to Big Dick, as he went tow ard the flashed with glorious beauty like
the eyes of those children th a t look
la tte r’s cabin.
“ All right,” said Dick: “ I’ve got upon the dome of Ita ly an d reflect
W ith
him safe, and I feed him well, but its wondrous brilliancy.
lie don’t eat much. I was in hopes steady yet low voice, the boy said,
“ It is tru e.”
he’d fat up for the m ark et.”
F or a m om ent, C harlie looked a t
I m ust go and consult with him .
him fixedly as if he would read his
H e’s my client, you know.*’
Then suddenly he
“ Y e s , b u t a m ighty sm all fee y o u ’ll whole soul.
get, I reckon. I t ’s a thankless job grasped the tin y han d s and said
vehem ently:
“ I believe you, and
t h a t’s on your hands.
“ The boy shall have a chance I will defend you with every drop
of my blood. I will search th is out.
anyw ay.”
“ Oh, yes, give him a chance,—a I will find this fellow’, if I can, am i
good long rope. T he hanging will convict him of th e m urder. He
m ust be somewhere about. Don’t
come a t last.”
“ You are pretty rough on him, fear. I ’m your friend from th is
I think, Dick. H aven’t you killed tim e.”
M orton consulted with B urnham ,
a m an in your d a y ? ”
“ Of course I have, but never in and they instituted a thorough
cold blood for money. I'v e a lw a y s search for the tram p. B u rn h am ,
had a reason, and my life was in indeed, gave him self up en tirely to
danger.
But to kill a poor old the work, and organized a band in
m an when he's asleep, an d rob him order to scour the co u n try far an d
of his hard earnings, th a t, I say, wide, and u n earth the m ystery.
Deacon Gooch of course thought
deserves the h alter; and he shall
th at it was his business to call upon
have the h alter.”
“ W hat, even if the ju rv acquit the cu lp rit and attem p t to convert
him. It seemed to his orthodox mind
him ?”
“ Oh, don’t flatter •f yourself th a t a good chance to display the riches
the ju ry will acquit him.
W e of the “ gospel.” He arm ed him ­
I aven’t fools enough in the cam p self w’ith a bible, and proceeded a
for th at, and besides they dare not day
•r or two before the trial to the
prison-house. The poor boy was
acquit him .”
C harlie found Pete in a far corner lying on the floor asleep. Traces
of th e room, pale, haggard, and of enorm ous suffering w’ere on the
alm ost in hysterics. The strong pala lips and closed eyes. The
m an took the little one gently to his heavy step of the deacon aw’oke
him, and he looked uneasily forth.
side, and tried to soothe him .
“ Come, tell me all about it,” said He did not seem p articu larly hap p y
as he noticed the gloomy counten­
C harlie. “ Did you do it?”
“ No I d id n ’t,” burst forth the ance of the im perturbable m ission­
boy im petuously.
ary.
“ I hope you d id n ’t, but ap p ear­
“ I have come to talk to you,”
ances are against you. W hat m ade said the deacon.
you run aw ay?”
“ I don’t think it will do any good,"
“ Oh, I was so frightened!”
said Pete.