Part 131 (1/2)

”But where is he?”

The question is beginning to be asked.

”What's your explanation, Mr Stump?” is another question put by the counsel for the accused.

”Don't need much, I reck'n,” is the reply. ”He'd be a durnationed greenhorn as can't see, clur as the light o' day, thet young Peint war plugged by thet ere bullet.”

”By whom fired, do you think?”

”Wal; thet appear to be eeqully clur. When a man signs his name to a message, thar's no chance o' mistakin' who it k.u.ms from. Thar's only the ineeshuls thur; but they're plain enuf, I reck'n, an speak for theirselves.”

”I see nothing in all this,” interposes the prosecuting counsel.

”There's a marked bullet, it is true--with a symbol and certain letters, which may, or may not, belong to a gentleman well known in the Settlement. For the sake of argument, let us suppose them to be his--as also the ball before us. What of that? It wouldn't be the first time that a murder has been committed--by one who has first stolen his weapon, and then used it to accomplish the deed. It is but a piece of ordinary cunning--a common trick. Who can say that this is not something of the same sort?”

”Besides,” continues the specious pleader, ”where is the motive for a murder such as this would be--supposing it to have been committed by the man you are now called upon to suspect? Without mentioning names, we all know to whom these initials belong. I don't suppose the gentleman will deny that they are his. But that signifies nothing: since there is no other circ.u.mstance to connect him in any way with the committal of the crime.”

”Ain't thar though?” asks Stump, who has been impatiently awaiting the wind up of the lawyer's speech. ”What do ye call this?”

Zeb, on delivering himself, takes from his tinder-pouch a piece of paper--crumpled--scorched along the edges--and blackened as with gunpowder.

”This I foun',” says he, surrendering it to the jury, ”stuck fast on the thorn o' a muskeet tree, whar it hed been blowed out o' the barrel o' a gun. It kim out o' the same gun as discharged thet bullet--to which it hed served for waddin'. As this chile takes it, it's bin the backin' o'

a letter. Thur's a name on it, which hev a kewrious correspondings wi'

the ineeshuls on the bit o' lead. The jury kin read the name for tha.r.s.elves.”

The foreman takes the sc.r.a.p of paper; and, smoothing out the creases, reads aloud:--

Captain Ca.s.sius Calhoun!

CHAPTER NINETY SIX.

STOLE AWAY!

The announcement of the name produces a vivid impression upon the Court.

It is accompanied by a cry--sent up by the spectators, with a simultaneity that proclaims them animated by a common sentiment.

It is not a cry of surprise; but one of far different augury. It has a double meaning, too: at once proclaiming the innocence of the accused, and the guilt of him who has been the most zealous amongst the accusers.

Against the latter, the testimony of Zeb Stump has done more than direct suspicion. It confirms that already aroused; and which has been growing stronger, as fact after fact has been unfolded: until the belief becomes universal: that Maurice Gerald is not the man who should be on trial for the murder of Henry Poindexter.

Equally is it believed that Calhoun is the man. The sc.r.a.p of smeared paper has furnished the last link in the chain of evidence; and, though this is but circ.u.mstantial, and the motive an inconceivable mystery, there is now scarce any one who has a doubt about the doer of the deed.

After a short time spent in examining the envelope--pa.s.sed from hand to hand among the jurymen--the witness who has hinted at having something more to tell, is directed to continue his narration.

He proceeds to give an account of his suspicions--those that originally prompted him to seek for ”sign” upon the prairie. He tells of the shot fired by Calhoun from the copse; of the chase that succeeded; and the horse trade that came after. Last of all, he describes the scene in the chapparal, where the Headless Horseman has been caught--giving this latest episode in all its details, with his own interpretation of it.

This done, he makes a pause, and stands silent, as if awaiting the Court to question him.