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.”