THE TORCH OF REASON, SILVERTON, OREGON, THURSDAY, MARCH 11, ISiP
GOLDEN THRONE
[ a ROMANCE BY SAM CEL P. Pl’TNAM.]
“ I suppose you won’t undertake
to prove insanity? ’
‘‘No, we are not civilized enough
ior that. I suppose the only way
ot escape is to prove his innocence."
“That of course you can’t do.”
“I don’t expect to. Really, it
looks almost useless to try to do
anything. But I am thoroughly
convinced th a t the hoy is not guilty,
and I’ll do something.”
“ Oh, we w o n ’t give u p
th e sh ip ,
not until it sinks, at any rate.”
“I am not much of a talker, you
know,’’ said Morton. “ I shall
depend upon you, Paddie, for the
apeech: you must stir the imagina
tion. I’ll try and give you some
facts to work up: and you, Jimmy,
must move upon their hearts, you
must bring tears, and perhaps there’ll
be a chance.”
“I’ll bring the tears, hut I’m
afraid they’ll run to waste, and
water hut the desert.”
The day of trial came. Nothing
m ore co uld he d isco v ered .
“1 have done my best, little Pete,"
said Morton: “ the chances are
against you, I am afraid.”
“Oh, it is so terrible,” said the
little fellow. “ It they would only
let me gol”
“They will not. We must prepare
for the worst. Have you any wgrd
to leave, anv friends?”
“I have not. I am a waif, that’s
all. Perhaps I might as well die,
only I do not wish to die in this way.
Promise me, will you not? I have
only one favor to ask.”
“I will do anything that you
desire.”
“I wan’tyou to shoot me. Oh, it
is so horrible to be hung! I do so
dread it. Will • you
» shoot me? Do
not let me sutler so.”
“My dear boy, I will shoot you,
if you can’t he saved; you shall not
suffer a pang, depend upon me.”
“Oh, thank you! Now I am
happy. I do not wish to live: you
will take my body and bury me just
as I am, will you not, all bv myself?”
“Yes, I will take care of your last
resting-place. Trust me. I will do
as I would if you were my own
child.”
C hapter IX.
Judge Pilkins was chosen to
preside at the trial. He was the
fattest man in the place, so fat that
he could not bend one way or the
other, and so of course could hold
the scales of justice with impartial
hand. We can generally trust a
fat man: he belongs to the conserva
tive order, and will do nothing
hastily, and besides he has or can
have an immense amount of dignity.
No one is so fitted to hold an
independent position as a three
hundred pounder; for he can easily
be upon both sides of the question
at the same time. He is a compre
hensive man. At any rate, nobody
else was thought of as judge upon
this important occasion except
Pilkins. I believe he knew some
thing of law but he practiced very
little; for he had rather drink rum
punch and tell stories. He was a
first-class loafer. Occasionally, the
men came to him to settle their
disputes, and he could "rite up a
legal document, when needed. In
this way, lie made out to supply
the wants of his ponderous body.
It was impossible for him to dig.
He could hardly strike a pick into
the ground; ami I doubt, if he saw
a chunk of gold at his feet, if he
could pick it up. He was in his
glory now, for this was the first
trial that had taken place in this
semi-bar baric community.
Sammy Grubbins was the prose
cuting attorney. After a fashion,
he was rather smart, a self-made
man, and, as the saying is, very
proud of his maker. He was not
verv old, was rather adventurous
in his disposition, understood Cali
fornia manners and customs pretty
well, and let no occasion slip by
which he might push himself ahead.
He did m»t like the cognomen
“Sammy” which the men bestowed
upon him, but was too shrewd to
make any complaint, and looked
forward to the time when he should
write it to all the world “ Hon.
Samuel Grubbins;” and who knows,
he used to whisper to himself it
may be “ President Grubbins?” He
meant to distinguish himself upon
this occasion, and make a speech
that should redound to his credit,
as he said,—“ring through arches of
fame.”
He had for his assistants Sol
Jones, a broken-down politician,
but who, nevertheless, had an
acute and fertile intellect, and
understood law better than any
man in the settlement, and Prince
Hal, a jocular, good-for-nothing
fellow, a graduate from college, but
the laziest man who ever trod this
planet.
How he ever got to
Golden Throne is a mystery; for he
was a man who would not walk, or
ride either, if he could help it.
Morton had to display consider
able skill in the selection of the
jury. He wanted to have a decent
set of men, if possible,—some at
least that would show a bit of
human feeling.
Big Dick himself was determined
to be one of the jury.
“I want to see fair play,” said he,
“and I’m going on.”
“But you can't go on,” said Mor
ton. “In the first place, you are
constable, and then you are a wit
ness for the prosec lit ion.”
“Well, I can be witness and con
stable, and still sit on the jury.
I’ve made up my mind, and I
know what’s what, and I ’ll see jus
tice.”
“That’s the reason you shouldn’t
go on the jury," said Morton, “be
cause your mind’s made up. If
you go on the jury, you mustn’t
have an opinion, to begin with.
Isn’t that so, Judge?"
others testified to all these circum
stances; and it must l»e confessed
that the prosecuting attorney made
a skillful use of them. He mar
shalled his evidence in good order,
and the impression was apparently
decisive.
Only a strong man like Morton
could have made any effort to de
fend the prisoner, his case seemed
so utterly hopeless. But Morton
was one of those dogged, persistent
men that never give up, and who
could array himself against a thous
and unflinchingly. He made the
most of the testimony of the two
women, Mollie and Libhie, who
were quite sure they saw such a
man as that described by little
Pete. Morton worked the thing
“ I d o n ’t c a re a d am n for la w ,’’ up shrewdly, and really did put
some doubt in the minds of the
said Dick. “ I want justice.”
“So do I,’’ said Morton; “but I’m jury.
Grubbin’s plea, however, seemed
afraid we won’t get it from you,”
The judge straightened himself, to demolish it all. He showed the
and proceeded to give bis decision. utter absurdity of the whole thing.
“Inasmuch as Big Dick is a con He called it a cock and bull story,
stable, and also that the aforesaid invented to save the neck of the
Big Dick is a witness for the prose prisoner, etc.
Paddie John followed with a very
cution, and also that according to
It was full of
his own confession, he has made up eloquent oration.
his mind as to the guilt of the pris fire and imagination. He quoted a
oner, and that no amount of evi good deal of poetry, and really in
dence could convince him to the terested the jury; but evidently it
contrary,—is not that so, Dick?” didn’t change their minds. Paddie
drew a picture of the wandering
“Indeed, it is, your honor.”
“Well, then,’’ continued the tramp, and how he murdered the
judge, “seeing that this is so, it old man. He tried in all possible
does seem to me that you are dis ways to put Pete and his actions
qualified from sitting on the jury out of sight. I think, if he really
believed the story himself,he might
in this case.”
“ Look out, .Judge, how you de have convinced the jury; but he
cide,” said Big Dick, drawing a did not, and so his glowing words
seemed to fall like ice.
couple of revolvers.
So) Jones rejoined with a calm
The judge looked at the revolvers
with an apparently careless glance, statement of the law, and begged
leave to bring the jury back from
and then said,—
“ But, seeing that you take such the realms of imagination to a con
a deep interest in the matter, you sideration of the real facts of the
case. This he did in a cold,
can do just as you please.’’
“That’s good sense,” said Big methodical way; hut it needed no
Dick; “and now, as I can do just as eloquence to set the evidence off.
I please, I won’t go on. I can see The “minister” then followed,
that they give a just verdict with and he made a most brilliant ap
peal in behalf of the boy. He
out the bother of it.”
Having disposed of this trouble touched the hearts of all that heard
some customer, or rather he having him, aud they really enjoyed his
disposed of himself, to his own sat pathetic pleas. It was as good as a
isfaction, Morton proceeded to fill theatre. He was frequently ap
up the jury as carefully as he plauded. As a camp-meetingeffort,
could. He succeeded in keeping off it was worthy of all praise. No
Gooch, who seemed even more doubt, it would have converted
determined than Dick to have the many a sinner. But it didn’t con
vert the jury, because after all, the
boy hung.
After doing his b est, it was not a whole discourse was only a make-
very promising-looking jury, except believe. It was given in behalf of
that Burnham was the foreman of the boy as a matter of good nature,
it, and Tim Baker was on it, rough but not of burning conviction; for
and red-faced; but his wife had neither did he believe that the boy
exerted her influence somewhat was innocent, and his smooth sen
potently upon him. If the rest tences also glided over the minds
were willing to acquit the boy, he of the jury like puffs of wind.
“I know I’ve been preaching,”
at least would make no objection.
The evidence was simple, strong, said he, “I haven't done a thing
and, to all appearance, conclusive. for your client. His neck is as
The old man Maddox had been good as broke. I did the best I
killed. His money had been taken, could though. But you might as
and the horse; and little Pete had well attempt to change the eternal
been found by a pursuing party, hills as to change these men. See
upon that horse. Big Dick and I how glum they look.”
“It is indeed,” said Pilkins.
“ You want fools and idiots, do
you? It’s no go. I understand
this case. You must put me on
the jury,” shouted Dick.
“ But I have the right of chal
lenge, and I challenge”—
“Well, let us fight it right out at
once,” said Big Dick. “Take your
paces, and we'll fire"
I don't mean that now, I mean
that you are not qualified to judge
in this case. You can’t and won’t
see both sides.”
“ B ut th e re ’s o n ly one side,” said
Dick, “and I see that as plain as
day.”
“ W ell, I appeal tothejudge. It’s
against all law that you should sit
oil the jury.”