"Got anything to say, Jed?" inquired the judge in a friendly and

leisurely fashion, after the accused had been duly sworn in by the

sheriff. "How come a man like you to let a mule git away from him?"

With the judge's friendly question there entered another actor on the

scene, in the person of a mountain girl who had been cowering on a bench

just behind Jed, her face hidden by a black calico split bonnet.

"Please lemme tell, Jed," she pleaded in a soft whisper that only father

and I heard, as we sat just behind her.

"Naw," was the one word he gave her, but it was spoken with a soft

little purr in his husky voice. Then he answered the judge with a kind

of quiet dignity, which I saw that the twelve booted jurymen listened to

with respect.

"Jedge," he said, with a stern look into the judge's face, "I reckon

you'll have to send me down to the pen. I let that mule git away from me

and I didn't steal or sell him; that is all I got to say." And he sat

down. I felt father start at my side and then sink back onto his bench.

"Where did you git the money, Jed?" the judge demanded.

"That I ain't a-telling," answered Jed determinedly. "Jest send me down

to the pen, fer you-all know all you'll ever know."

"Well, Jed," the judge was beginning to say in an argumentative tone of

voice, when father arose and stepped in front of the bench.

"May it please your honor to appoint a counsel for the defense?" he

asked in a ringing voice that brought all the outsiders crowding into

the door. I had never heard or seen my father in a court room and I had

never suspected him of the resonant silver voice with which he made his

demand.

"We ain't got a lawyer in Hicks Center but Jim Handy here, and he can't

prosecute and defend too. I always kinder looks out fer the prisoners

myself," answered the judge.

"Then may I offer myself to the prisoner to conduct his defense?" father

demanded, and he looked over at Jed, who in turn looked at Mr. Goodloe

before he nodded.

"Then shoot ahead, stranger. Jim have told all they is about it, but

you can have Hi and Bud Turner sworn in and git any more they have got

to say. Them men speaks truth when they speaks." At which statement

every good man and true nodded his head with firm conviction. A gaunt

old mountaineer who sat over by the window cleared his throat in an

embarrassment that marked him as the Hiram Turner alluded to.

"I don't think I shall need the testimony of Mr. Turner or his son,"

father answered quietly, as he stood tall and straight before the jury.

"I want to put Mr. Bangs' wife on the witness stand and question her

before the jury. Sheriff, call Mrs. Bangs."




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