CHAPTER XXIV
Emerson Mead's trial had been in progress nearly two weeks, but mostof the time had been exhausted in impaneling a jury. Almost the entiremale population of Las Plumas had filed between the opposing lawyersand, for one reason or another, had been excused. At last a jury hadbeen chosen, not because its members were satisfactory to either side,but because both sides had exhausted their peremptory challenges andneither could find further objection which the judge would allow.
Thomson Tuttle arrived soon after Nick Ellhorn's departure, and wasalternately puzzled and indignant over his absence. He felt sure thatNick had gone away on some expedition of importance and probably ofdanger. He was puzzled to think what it could possibly be, andindignant that Nick had thus risked himself without the aid andprotection of his best friend.
"It was plumb ridiculous for him to go off alone like that," hecomplained to Judge Harlin. "He knew I'd be along in a day or two, andhere he goes flirtin' the gravel off the road all alone as if I wassome didn't-know-it-was-loaded kind of a fool who couldn't handle agun! He'll sure get into some kind of trouble if I'm not with him!"
Interest in the trial was universal and intense, and during thesessions of the court, especially after the taking of testimony began,the streets of the town were well nigh deserted, while a large part ofthe population crowded the court room, swarmed in the corridors, andfilled the windows. Those who could not get into the court-housegathered in groups on the outside and discussed the news and therumors, which came in plentiful supply from its doors.
The prosecution had put on several witnesses, employees of theFillmore Cattle Company, who had sworn to the ill-feeling between Meadand young Whittaker, and one who had been a witness of the quarrelbetween them, just previous to Whittaker's disappearance, when Meadhad threatened the young man's life. Then Colonel Whittaker took thestand. It was rumored that after him would be given the testimony ofan eye-witness of the murder, and an even larger crowd than usualsought the court-house that afternoon. Two score of women satcomfortably in a space fitted with chairs at one end of the judge'sdesk. But the body of the room was jammed with a standing crowd ofmen, both Mexicans and Americans. Late comers crowded the corridor,and those who could get them mounted chairs outside the door. Insidethe room a row of men swung their heels from each window seat, whileoutside another row stood on the ledges and looked over their heads.
Colonel Whittaker told the story of how his son had set out from theranch to come to town and had never been seen alive again. He declaredthat the young man had no enemies except the prisoner and that therewas no possible explanation of his disappearance except that he hadbeen murdered. Then he told of the work of the searching party whichhe had taken to the White Sands, and of the body which they had found.He had identified this corpse as the body of his son, and on thesketched outline of a man's back he located the position of the threebullet holes by which the young man had come to his death. The shirt,with the initials worked in the collar, the ring, scarfpin, memorandumbook and envelopes that had been taken from the body were placedbefore him and he identified them all as having belonged to his son.The crowded court room was still, with the silence of tenseexpectancy. Every neck was craned and every eye was fixed on thesearticles as one by one they were held up before him and then passed onto the judge's desk.
A slight disturbance at the door, as of people unwillingly movingback, fell upon the strained hush. Some one was forcing his waythrough the crowd. The witness leaned back in his chair, waiting foranother question, and the lawyers consulted together for a moment.Then the prosecuting attorney asked the witness if he had positivelyidentified the body as that of his missing son, William Whittaker.
"I did, sir," replied Colonel Whittaker. As the words left his lipshis gaze fell past the attorney upon two men who had just struggledout of the crowd and into the free railed space in front of thejudge's desk. His jaw fell, his pale face turned an ashen gray, hiseyes opened wide, and, with trembling hands upon the arms of hischair, he unconsciously lifted himself to his feet. The lawyers, thejudge, and the jury followed his gaze. Some sprang to their feet andsome fell back in their chairs, their mouths open, but dumb withamazement. All over the court room there was a shuffling of feet and acraning of necks, and a buzzing whisper went back from the foremostranks.
Nick Ellhorn was there, tall and slender and smiling, with a happy,triumphant look overspreading his handsome face. By his side was ayoung man, dark-skinned, black-haired and black-mustached, who lookedashamed and self-conscious. Ellhorn tucked one hand into his arm andurged him to a quicker pace. Nick's eye sought Emerson Mead and asMead's glance flashed from the stranger's face to his, Nick's liddropped in a significant wink. Mead leaned back in his chair, a lookof amused triumph on his face, as he watched the scene before him andwaited for it to come to its conclusion.
Slowly Colonel Whittaker stepped forward, trembling, with a look uponhis face that was almost fear. The crowd was pushing and pressingtoward the center of interest, and everywhere wide eyes looked outfrom amazed, incredulous faces. Nick Ellhorn and his companion slowlyedged their way between the tables and chairs, the young man advancingreluctantly, with downcast face, until they stood in front of ColonelWhittaker. Then he looked up, and exclaimed in a choking voice:
"Father! I am not dead!"
With Hoops of Steel Page 24
