Part 17 (2/2)
The more sober ones of the party here interfered; and the burly saloon-keeper stepped forward with the remark, that he ”did n't mean to 'low anything but fair play in his shanty; and that if the genl'm'n had a difference between them they must settle it outside.”
The man whom Deering was after seated himself astride a hogshead of beer and c.o.c.ked his pistol, advising the ”boss” to keep out of the affair if he valued his ”sweet life.”
”Now, then, young man, if yer don't cut a caper before I count three, I shall be obliged to see how much of your right boot-heel I can carry away with this bullet, without endangering them handsome feet o' yourn.”
Hal, only afraid of losing his man, answered coolly,--
”You can shoot if you want to. I am a stranger in this place, and I prefer to do my dancing at home.”
The proprietor again interposed, and laying his hand on the bully's shoulder, ordered him to put up his shooting-irons. Horton threw him off, and things were beginning to look rather serious; when Deering saw Galbraith crossing the street with two men, one of whom he recognized as the county sheriff.
”Gentlemen,” he said, ”I have come a long distance to find this man; I am anxious to have his company as far as the San Bernardino prison, where he will find comfortable board provided for him. If you are law-abiding citizens, you will not interfere with the arrest of Daniel Horton on an indictment of murder.”
As he finished speaking, the three men entered, and the sheriff laid his hand on Horton's shoulder. Murder is an ugly word, and a silence followed Hal's speech. The crowd instinctively drew back from the man who had been charged with the foul crime; and a silence ensued, which was broken by the sheriff, a high-voiced little man, who said in a loud tone,--
”I arrest you, Dan Horton, for the murder of Ah Lam, committed at Carey's Bridge, on the afternoon of Wednesday last.”
A revulsion of feeling was manifest in the faces of the crowd. The horror for a person who has committed the unatonable crime of murder had been felt; but when it transpired that the victim was a Chinaman, the case appeared to be very much altered. The man, quick to see the favorable change in public sentiment, cried,--
”Wall, boys, you see I am 'spected of having done the business for one of these Chinese vermin. What sort of a town 's this as will see a man 'rested for that?”
Daniel Horton's experience of life in the rough mining towns, where the last five years of his life had been spent, gave him the hope that the men in the saloon would help him to escape from arrest. But though sympathy for him was evinced by the group of idlers, there was no attempt at resisting the officers; and the sheriff, a.s.sisted by Galbraith and Deering, finally succeeded in placing the hand-cuffs on his wrists. When he saw that there was no help for him, he submitted to be led from the saloon, giving one parting look of scorn at the friends whom he had won by a gla.s.s of liquor and lost on the appearance of an officer.
”Of all the derned mean skunks as I ever met, this town numbers the most,” he muttered, as the screen door swung to behind him.
The examination of the prisoner was to be held in the court-room of the county prison of San Bernardino. Millicent was summoned to be present.
Escorted by Deering and Galbraith, she arrived before the entrance of the gloomy building, one bright October morning. It was a day when life seemed a pleasant thing, if only because there were sunlight and color in the odorous woods and pleasant highways. Just as they reached the doorway, a line of people filed out from the narrow portal. They were the discharged prisoners, some of whom had been in confinement for twenty-four hours only, while others had not breathed the free air for many weary months. A girl not older than Millicent pa.s.sed them with a slow, inelastic step and downcast eyes. Her slender figure was poorly but decently clad in a gown of rusty black, her hair neatly arranged, her hands and face clean and of a remarkable pallor. She alone among the little group seemed loath to leave the prison, where at least she had been among those who could not look down on her. At the threshold she paused and shuddered, as if the wide street, with its row of young shade-trees and neat sidewalk, were more forbidding than the narrow prison-yard, with its spiked rails and dismal barred windows. Those who were behind became impatient at her delay; and she was pushed not ungently into the street by the man next to her in the sad procession.
As she found herself alone outside the dreary stone building, she gave a low groan, clasping her poor thin hands together over her breast.
Millicent, moved by the pathetic gesture, spoke to her gently, asking if she could in any way help her; but the girl shook her head as if annoyed by the question, and walked quickly down the street, taking the first turn which led her out of sight of the prison. All those who followed were men, most of whom wore a conscious expression, as if they were more embarra.s.sed at being seen leaving the prison than mortified at having merited the punishment which they had undergone. As the last of the queue filed out, Galbraith entered the doorway, Millicent following him, and Deering bringing up the rear. In the wide stone hall which they entered were groups of men talking together or leaning idly against the rails. A heavy grated door swung open with a rusty, grinding sound, and two men appeared, arm-in-arm. The taller of the two was a handsome young fellow, with blond, curling hair, blue eyes, and fresh rosy cheeks. His expression was almost infantine in its beauty; and this, with his jaunty air, contrasted strangely with his companion's ugly, stooping figure and downcast, shamed face. The latter was a misshapen creature, with a humped back and a large, ugly head furnished with coa.r.s.e hair and beard. As the grate clanged behind the couple, the handsome young fellow laughed cheerily, stretched his limbs, and drew a long breath of relief.
”Ta-ta, bully, hope I won't see you soon again,” he said, nodding impudently to the door-keeper. The smaller man was lame, as well as deformed; and the under-warden, who had joined Galbraith, asked him kindly how his leg was doing.
”Better, sir, thank you,” croaked the unfortunate in a harsh voice; ”it came hard on me not havin' George here to help me; but it's all right now. Good-morning to you, sir.”
”Tell me about those men,” said Millicent to an official whom Galbraith had introduced to her.
”They are brothers, George and Pete Marcy. Which of them do you think paid a twenty-dollar fine to get his brother out of prison just now?
Likely you 'll think it was the good-looking chap; but 't was Pete the dwarf. He 's the tinker and general useful man of the town, is Pete; and George is one of the biggest rascals in the State of California.
But he covers his tracks well; and though we know a good many things about him, we can prove nothing more against him than an occasional a.s.sault and battery.”
”And did the poor little creature pay the fine out of his earnings?”
”Bless you, yes; and pays for his clothes,--nice ones, you remarked, mebbe? Pete gives that rascal every dollar he earns; and the only thing George does toward supporting himself, is to rob an occasional hen-roost when he wants to give a supper party.”
The outer door now closed with a grave sound; it had let out its day's quota of men and women who had legally expiated their crimes; it had taken in its one breath of sun and air. From a narrow window Millicent saw the Marcy brothers walking down the street, George with head erect and swaggering gait, Pete shambling awkwardly along at his side, vainly trying to keep pace with his handsome brother's long strides.
The warden now led the way to the court-room. The keeper of the gate, a stern-looking man, with iron-gray hair and iron-rusted clothes, stopped Millicent as she was about to pa.s.s through the grated door, saying,--
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