Part 30 (1/2)
He looked neither to right nor left, but held the eyes of the man on the bench, and the judge, who was slight of stature, with straw-coloured hair and a face by no means imposing or majestic, returned his glance unwaveringly.
Then at the bar Opd.y.k.e halted, with nothing of the suppliant in his bearing. He thrust a hand into each coat pocket, and with an eloquent ringing of ironmongery, slammed a brace of heavy revolvers on the table before him. The two henchmen stood silent, each with right hand in right pocket.
”I heered my name called,” announced the defendant in a deep-rumbling voice of challenge, ”an' hyar I be--but, afore G.o.d on high, I aims ter git me jestice in this co'te!”
Had the man on the bench permitted the slightest ripple of anxiety to disconcert his steadfastness of gaze just then pandemonium was ripe for breaking in his courtroom. But the judge looked down with imperturbable calm as though this were the accustomed procedure of his court, and when a margin of pause had intervened to give his words greater effect he spoke in a level voice that went over the room and filled it, and he spoke, not to the defendant, but to Joe Bratton the ”high-sheriff” of that county.
[Ill.u.s.tration: ”_Dorothy flashed past him ... and a few seconds later he heard the clean-lipped snap of the rifle in a double report_”]
”Mr. Sheriff,” he said, slowly and impressively, ”the co'te instructs you to disarm Sam Opd.y.k.e an' put him under arrest fer contempt. An', Mr. Sheriff, when I says ter arrest him ... I mean to put him in ther jail ... an' I don't _only_ mean to put him in ther jail but in a cell and leave him there till this co'te gets ready for him. When this co'te _is_ ready, it will let you know.” He paused there in the dead hush of an amazed audience, then continued on an even key: ”An', Mr. Sheriff, if there's any disquiet in your mind about your ability to take this prisoner into custody, an' hold him securely in such custody, the co'te instructs you that you are empowered by law to call into service as your posse every able-bodied man in the jurisdiction of this county....
Moreover, Mr. Sheriff, the co'te suggests that when you get ready to summons this posse--an' it had ought to be right here an' now--you call me fer the fust man to serve on it, an' that you call Hump Doane and Parish Thornton fer ther second an' third men on it....”
A low wave of astonished voices went whispering over the courtroom, from back to front, but the judge, ignoring the two revolvers which still lay on the table fifteen feet away, and the livid face of the man from whose pockets they had been drawn, rapped sharply with his gavel.
”Order in the co'teroom,” he thundered, and there was order. Moreover, before the eyes of all those straining sight-seers, Opd.y.k.e glanced at the two men who composed his bodyguard and read a wilting spirit in their faces. He sank down into his chair, beaten, and knowing it, and when the sheriff laid a hand on his shoulder, he rose without protest and left his pistols lying where he had so belligerently slammed them down. His henchmen offered no word or gesture of protest. They had seen the strength of the tidal wave which they had hoped to outface, and they realized the futility of any effort at armed resistance.
It was when he had ridden home from the county seat after attending that session of the County Court, that Parish Thornton found Bas Rowlett smoking a pipe on his doorstep.
That was not a surprising thing, for Bas came often and maintained flawlessly the pose of amity he had chosen to a.s.sume. In his complex make-up paradoxes of character met and mingled, and it was possible for him, despite his bitter memories of failure and humiliation, to smile with just the proper nicety of unrestraint and cordiality.
Behind the visitor in the door stood Dorothy with a plate and dish towel in her hand, and she was laughing.
”Howdy, Parish,” drawled Bas, without rising, as the householder came up and smiled at his wife. ”How did matters come out over thar at co'te?”
”They come out with right gay success,” responded the other, and in his manner, too, there was just the proper admixture of casualness and established friends.h.i.+p. ”Sam Opd.y.k.e is sulterin' in ther jail-house now.”
”Thet's a G.o.d's blessin',” commended Bas, and then as Dorothy went back to the kitchen Parish lifted his brows and inquired quietly, ”Ye war over hyar yistiddy an' the day afore, warn't ye, Bas?”
The other nodded and laughed with a shade of taunt in his voice.
”Yes. Hit pleasures me ter drap in whar I always gits me sich an old-time welcome.”
”Did ye aim ter stay an' eat ye some dinner?”
”I 'lowed I mout--ef so be I got asked.”
”Well ye gits asked ter go on home, Bas. I'm askin' ye now--an'
hereatter ye needn't bother yoreself ter be quite so neighbourly. Hit mout mek talk ef ye stayed away altogether--but stay away a heap more than what ye've been doin'.”
The other rose with a darkening face.
”Does ye aim ter dictate ter me not only when an' whar's we fights our battles at, but every move I makes meanwhile?”
”I aims ter dictate ter ye how often ye comes on this place--an' I orders ye ter leave hit now. Thar's ther stile--an' ther highway's open ter ye. Begone!”