Part 22 (1/2)
”Did it disappear?”
”Sh.o.r.e it did. Wasn't a thing left.”
”Did it look like a man's body, then?”
”No, it just looked like a pile o' ashes.”
”Bore no trace or resemblance to a man, then?”
”None whatever.”
”You wouldn't have taken it for a body, then?”
”Nope. Course not.”
”Was any part of a body left?”
”Nary thing.”
”Any boot, hat, or bit of clothing?”
”Not a single thing, fur's I c'd see.”
”That's all,” said Franklin.
”Re-direct, Mr. Prosecutor?” said the Court. This was Greek to the audience, but they were enjoying the entertainment.
”Pa.s.s the re-direct,” said the State's attorney confidently.
”Do you wish to recall this witness, Mr. Franklin?” asked the Court.
”Yes, if your Honour please. I want to take up some facts in the earlier life of the prisoner, as bearing upon his present mental condition.”
”Very well,” said the judge, yawning. ”You may wait a while, Mr.
Haskins.”
”Well, then, Curly,” said Franklin, again addressing himself to his witness, ”please tell us how long you have known this prisoner.”
”Ever since we was kids together. He used to be a _mozo_ on my pap's ranch, over in San Saba County.”
”Did you ever know him to receive any injury, any blow about the head?”
”Well, onct ole Hank Swartzman swatted him over the head with a swingletree. Sort o' laid him out, some.”
”'Bject!” cried the State's attorney, but the judge yawned ”M' go on.”
”Did he act strangely after receiving that blow?”
”Why, yes; I reckon you would yerself. He hit him a good lick. It was fer ridin' Hank's favourite mare, an' from that time to now Juan ain't never been on horseback since. That shows he's _loco_. Any man what walks is _loco_. Part o' the time, Juan, he's _bronco_, but all the time he's _loco_.”