Part 42 (1/2)
A shuffling of muddy feet ensued; then a lesser sound that came with the giving out of many breaths; a sound that has no name but which has been known since days when men and women settled back in the circus of the Caesars and waited for the lions to be turned into the arena where the victims waited.
From the bench was drawled the routine query, ”Has the Commonwealth any motions?” and the Commonwealth's attorney rose to his feet and straightened the papers on his desk.
”May it please your Honour,” he said, slowly, ”in the case of the Commonwealth against Kenneth Thornton, charged with murder, now pending on this docket, I wish to enter a motion of dismissal and to ask that your Honour exonerate the bond of the defendant.”
The man in the prisoner's dock had come braced against nerve-trying, but now he bent forward in an amazement that he could not conceal, and from the back of the courtroom forward ran an inarticulate sound from human throats that needed no words to voice its incredulity--its disappointment.
There was a light rapping of the gavel and the state's representative went evenly on:
”The trial of this defendant would only entail a fruitless cost upon the state. I hold here, duly attested, the confession of Sally Turk, sister of the accused and widow of the deceased, that it was she and not Kenneth Thornton who shot John Turk to death. I have sworn out a warrant for this woman's arrest, and will ask the sheriff to execute it forthwith and take her into custody.”
Kenneth Thornton was on his feet with a short protest shaping itself on his lips, but his eyes met those of his sister who rose from her place against the wall as her name was spoken and he read in them a contentment that gave him pause and an unspoken plea for silence.
Answering to the restraining hand of his own lawyer on his elbow he sank back into his seat with a swimming head and heard the calm, almost purring voice from the bench directing, ”Mr. Clerk, let the order be entered.” After that, astonishment mounted to complete dumfounding as he saw standing in the aisle Will Turk, the backbone and energy of the entire prosecution--and heard his voice addressing the judge:
”May it please your Honour, I'd love ter be tuck on Sally Turk's bond when ther time comes. I've done satisfied myself thet she kilt my brother in self _dee_fence.”
CHAPTER XXIX
Outside on the straggling streets clumps of perplexed men gathered to mull over the seven days' wonder which had been enacted before their eyes.
Slowly they watched the Kentuckians troop out of the court house, the late prisoner in their midst, and marvelled to see Will Turk join them with the handshaking of complete amity. Many of these onlookers remembered the dark and glowing face with which Turk had said yesterday of the man upon whom he was now smiling, ”Penitenshery, h.e.l.l! Hit's got ter be ther gallows!”
Public amazement was augmented when Kenneth Thornton and his wife went home with Will Turk and slept as guests under his roof.
”Ye needn't hev no fear erbout goin' on home, Ken, an' leavin' Sally hyar,” said Turk when he and Thornton sat over their pipes that night.
”I gives ye my hand thet she's goin' ter go free on bond an' when her case is tried she'll come cl'ar.”
Kenneth Thornton knew that he was listening to the truth, and as his fingers, groping in his pocket for a match, touched the small walnut-sh.e.l.l basket, he drew it out and looked at it. Then turning to Dorothy, who sat across the hearth, he said seriously: ”Ther luck piece held hits charm, honey.”
But an hour later, when Kenneth had gone out to see to his horse in the barn and when Lindy was busied about some kitchen task, Will Turk rose from his seat and standing before Dorothy began to speak in a low-pitched and sober voice:
”Ye seems ter me like a woman a man kin talk sense ter,” he said, ”an'
I'm goin' ter tell ye somethin' either you or yore man ought ter know.
Ken hain't plum outen danger yit. He's got an enemy over thar in Kaintuck: an' when he starts back thet enemy's right like ter be watchin' ther trail thet leads home.”
Dorothy held his eyes steadily when she questioned him with a name, ”Bas Rowlett?”
Will Turk shook his head as he responded deliberately: ”Whatever I knows come ter me in secrecy--but hit was at a time when I miscomprehended things, an' I sees 'em different now. I didn't say hit was Bas Rowlett ner I didn't say hit wasn't nuther, but this much I kin say. Whoever this feller is thet aims ter layway Ken, he aims ter do hit in Virginny.
Seems like he dastn't ondertake hit in Kaintuck.”
Dorothy drew a breath of relief for even that a.s.surance, and for the duration of a short silence Turk again paced the floor with his head bent and his hands at his back, then he halted.
”You go on home termorrer an' leave Ken hyar,” he enjoined, ”he wants ter see his sister free on bail afore he leaves, anyhow. When he gits ready ter start back I'll guide him by a way I knows, but one a woman couldn't handily travel, an' I'll pledge ye he'll crost over ter Kaintuck es safe as he come.”
So on the morrow Dorothy rode with the same cavalcade that had escorted her to Virginia, and near sunset a few days later, when low-hanging clouds were sifting down a thick veil of snow and the bare woods stood ghostly and white, Bas Rowlett lay numb with cold but warm with antic.i.p.ation by the trail that led from the county seat in Virginia to the gap that gave a gateway into Kentucky.