“Me, too,” Homer said. “Tell you the truth, I’m scared to go, and scared not to. What do you reckon the army would do if we didn’t show up for the trial?”
“They’d most likely send a detail of soldiers over here to get us.”
“I expect you’re right,” Homer continued. “Maybe the safest thing is to do what Yeager told us and say Mace was bushwhacked. It’s a helluva thing to do to Clint Cooper, but a man has to think about his own skin.”
“At least you just have to worry about your skin,” Duffy said. “That evil son of a bitch started tellin’ me about how bad he would feel if something happened to my wife and little Jimmy. Then he started tellin’ me how he was gonna protect them from men like Clint Cooper. Told me to make sure I didn’t do anything that might put ’em in danger. Now, what is that, if it ain’t nothing but a threat?”
The conversation was interrupted then by Floyd’s return to that end of the bar to chat with them.
* * *
“Looks like we’re in the same boat, don’t it?” Curly James crowed to Clint when he was brought from the hospital to the guardhouse. “They’re tryin’ you for murder, and they’re tryin’ me for attempted murder. Only thing is, can’t nobody prove it was me that shot that old coot ridin’ with you, and I’m sayin’ it was Blankenship that done it.”
Clint didn’t respond right away. At least the army had the forethought to place Curly in with the general population, and not in the small cell with him. Looking at the despicable cur, with his shoulder bandaged and his arm in a sling, Clint struggled to control his temper.
After a moment, when he felt he could keep from trying to grab Curly’s bad arm through the bars that separated them and wringing it off, he replied, “You damn fool, it doesn’t matter who shot Ben. You both tried to, so attempted murder oughta be enough to let you stretch a rope.”
Curly laughed. “Yeah, maybe so, but they was in the hospital talkin’ to me, them officers that are gonna try you in the mornin’. And guess what, I’m gonna be testifyin’ that I was the deputy sheriff that put a bullet in you after you shot Mace Yeager. And since I’m willin’ to testify, they said they’ll go a little easier on me in my trial. Whaddaya think about that?”
Again, Clint hesitated to reply, the fury growing inside him threatening to choke him. He forced himself to remain calm as he glared at the sneering miscreant. “Why the hell would anybody believe a liar like you, Curly? You’ll hang. And if by some chance you don’t, then you’ll have to worry about me.”
“I ain’t gonna have to worry about you no more after your trial, except maybe gettin’ a good seat to watch your hangin’,” Curly taunted, emboldened by the bars between them.
His scornful boasts were not particularly bothersome to Clint, because he felt fairly confident that the panel of judges would hardly believe Curly’s version over the testimonies of Jim Duffy and Homer Lewis.
Chapter 13
The day of Clint Cooper’s trial began on a cold, gray morning. After breakfast, he was marched across the snow-covered parade ground by a detail of four armed guards and escorted into the headquarters building. Clint was surprised to see a wagon and several horses tied up outside.
Inside, the room had been cleared to set up a table at one end with three chairs behind it, and another one a few feet away, which he assumed was the witness stand. Clint was surprised a second time to find a modest group of spectators from Miles City, crowded into a space behind a row of five chairs, which was hardly adequate to accommodate that number. Most of the faces were familiar to Clint, and all stared at him as he was led over to sit in one of the five chairs. His eyes, however, were locked on those of Simon Yeager’s, who sat in the end chair, glaring at him, his lip curled in a contemptuous sneer that seemed at home on his flat, brutal face.
In a few minutes, Justin Landry and Randolph Valentine entered the room and hurried over to sit on either side of Clint.
“How you doing, boy?” Valentine asked. “They treating you all right? I told that damn major they’d better, or I was going to complain to the territorial governor.”
Clint smiled. “Yes, sir. I just wanna get this thing done.”
He saw no point in complaining to the old man. He looked over then and nodded to Justin, who was busy reviewing some notes he had written on a sheet of paper. Before they could exchange words, a corporal at the door ordered, “All rise,” and the panel of judges walked in.
Clint studied the faces of Lieutenant Grant, Lieutenant Sawyer, and Major Kinsey as they filed past him and sat down in the chairs behind the table. Following close behind them, Captain Rodgers came in and sat down in the chair next to Simon Yeager. Justin quickly explained to Clint that Rodgers would represent the prosecution, since he had been in temporary command when the sheriff made the initial murder charge against him. It was Rodgers who initiated the search for Clint when Yeager posted the wanted papers, even though he had been somewhat reluctant to do it. Since Rodger had worked with Clint in the battle with the Sioux war party that struck Zack Bristol’s trading post on the Yellowstone, it was difficult to serve as prosecutor. He found it hard to believe Clint would murder anyone. He had no choice but to perform the job to the best of his ability, however.
Major Kinsey called the hearing to order and made a brief, but clear, statement of the charges against Clint.
“For the sake of expediency,” he announced, “we will dispense with usual courtroom decorum, this being a simple hearing. Since there is no question that a warrant for murder was issued against the defendant, Clint Cooper, and there is no doubt that the defendant is, in fact, Clint Cooper, we will hear any evidence supporting the charges. In other words, gentlemen, let’s not drag this thing out. We’ll hear from you first, Captain Rodgers. Make your case.”
“Yes, sir,” Rodgers said, and rose from his chair. “The facts are, the defendant, Clint Cooper, went into town seeking to kill Deputy Mace Yeager. He waited in ambush behind the barbershop, some fifty yards or more from the Trail’s End Saloon. When Deputy Yeager walked out into the street, Cooper shot him with a rifle.”
“What evidence do you have to support that accusation?” Kinsey asked.
“There were witnesses to the shooting,” Rodgers replied.
“Call your first witness,” Kinsey said.
“Prosecution calls Homer Lewis, owner of the barbershop behind which Cooper waited in ambush,” Rodgers said. Justin immediately sat up, confused. He looked at Rodgers with a questioning look on his face. Homer Lewis was supposedly a witness for the defense. Justin held his tongue, however, as Rodgers turned and motioned Homer toward the empty chair.
Nervous as a cat, Homer pushed through the spectators and walked unsteadily over to the empty chair, and after a soldier with a Bible took his oath, he sank down heavily. Once he seemed settled, Captain Rodgers said, “You’ve heard the charges, and you say you witnessed the shooting?”
“Yes, sir,” Homer replied meekly, trying not to make eye contact with Simon Yeager, who was glaring at him, a menacing frown threatening.
“Tell the court what you saw,” Rodgers instructed.
Homer hesitated to speak for so long that Rodgers started to repeat his request, when Homer replied. “Cooper was hiding behind my shop, and shot Mace when he came out of the saloon.” As soon as he said it, Yeager’s frown relaxed and turned into a smug smile.
There was a reactionary murmur from the spectators. “Why, you lyin’ . . .” Clint started to spring out of his chair but was held back by Valentine and Justin.
“Your witness,” Rodgers said to Justin. The look on his face betrayed the fact that Justin was astonished by the witness’s answer as well.
Totally disarmed by Homer’s testimony, Justin was hard put to cross-examine him. “Mr. Lewis,” he began, “are you sure that’s what you witnessed?” Homer said that he was. “Were you not told to count to three before M
r. Cooper and Deputy Yeager drew their weapons in a duel?”
“I don’t remember nothin’ about that,” Homer answered, and coughed, almost choking on the lie. “I couldn’t see too well where I was standin’, anyway.” He glanced over at Yeager to see the menacing glare return to his face.
Justin was struck speechless, unable to think of what to say. He looked at Clint, silently questioning what Clint had told him, but saw that he was equally shocked by Homer’s testimony. Barely able to respond when the major asked if he had any more questions for the witness, he said no and sat down. He had been assured that this man would clear Clint without doubt, but now his only hope was riding on the testimony of Jim Duffy.
“Call your next witness,” Kinsey instructed Rodgers. When the murmuring among the group of spectators started to grow, Kinsey called for quiet.
Jim Duffy took a nervous glance at Homer before taking the stand. His decision was a tough one to make, and he hesitated for a long moment before answering Rodgers’ question. “I reckon I saw it about the same way Homer did,” he finally muttered.
Clint was stunned. The simple hearing that was supposed to quickly dismiss all charges against him had turned into a nightmare of lies. Valentine jumped to his feet and roared, “I demand a mistrial! These witnesses are obviously lying.” He turned and pointed at Simon Yeager. “Intimidated by that man.”
“I have to remind you, Mr. Valentine,” Kinsey said to him. “You have no standing in this court. You are a spectator. One more outburst from you and I’ll have you escorted out of this hearing.” He turned to Justin then. “Lieutenant Landry, do you want to cross-examine the witness?”
“I don’t think it would do any good, if he’s going to stick to that story,” Justin said, knowing that his case was lost. “But I have one question for this witness.” He turned to face Duffy again. “How do you account for the fact that Mr. Cooper was wounded himself in the gunfight?”
Jim was afraid to answer, so he said, “I don’t know.”
“Wasn’t Mr. Cooper struck in the side by a bullet from Mace Yeager’s revolver?” Justin pressed.
“I don’t know,” Jim repeated.
Clearly shaken by the unexpected testimony of the witness, Justin asked, “Do I need to remind you that you’re under oath? Do you want to change your testimony?”
“No, sir,” Jim answered, his voice so soft that it could barely be heard. Defeated, Justin threw his hands up in disgust and returned to his chair.
“I have an answer to Lieutenant Landry’s question, sir,” Captain Rodgers said. “I call Walter James to the stand.” Unfamiliar with the name, Clint and Justin exchanged puzzled glances. Then a guard brought Curly in from another room, a smug grin on his face as he winked at Yeager. “Mr. James,” Rodgers asked, “what was your position in Miles City?”
“I was a deputy sheriff, after that feller there killed Mace,” Curly said, smiling broadly.
“Where were you at the time when the defendant shot Mace Yeager?”
“I was comin’ up from the stable.”
“Did you see Cooper shoot Mace Yeager?” Rodgers asked.
“Yes, sir, I shore did. I saw Cooper bear down on Mace with a rifle from way up the street. Then he jumped on his horse and hightailed it outta town. I had just enough time to get off one shot, so I let her fly.”
“So you’re the one who shot Clint Cooper, and not Mace Yeager?” Rodgers asked.
“That’s a fact,” Curly said smugly. “It was a pretty good shot, too, even if I do say so myself.”
“Thank you, Mr. James,” Rodgers said.
“Do you wish to cross-examine?” Kinsey asked Justin.
“One question, sir,” Justin answered. He turned to face Curly and asked, “How do you account for the fact that the defendant’s wound is in the front of his body, and not in his back?”
Curly shrugged, unable to explain. “I don’t know. I reckon he musta turned around to look at me.”
“He turned around,” Justin repeated. He turned to Clint then and said, “I wonder if you wouldn’t mind standing up and pulling out your shirttail so the panel can get a look at your wound.” Clint stood up and pulled his shirt and underwear up so the judges could see the still fresh scar where the bullet entered. “Take a good look, gentlemen,” Justin continued. “Now, Clint, turn around and show them your back.” Clint obliged. “You will notice that there is no scar of any kind on Mr. Cooper’s back, since the bullet didn’t exit his body. Gentlemen, I submit that Mr. Cooper would have had to be sitting backward in the saddle when his horse galloped out of town in order to have been struck by a bullet from Mr. James’ rifle.” He fixed his attention on Curly again. “Was the defendant riding out of town backward, Mr. James?”
Completely flustered at this point, Curly wasn’t sure what to say. “No, he weren’t ridin’ backward. Maybe I disremembered, and I was at the other end of town, and he was comin’ at me when he hightailed it.”
“But you’ve already testified that you were coming out of the stables, and you just had time for one shot before Mr. Cooper galloped out of town. If I remember correctly, the stables are at the north end of the street, and Mr. Cooper fled out the south end. In any case, if he was coming toward you, wouldn’t you have had time for more than one shot? In fact, the closer he came, the easier it would be to hit him, wouldn’t it?”
“Hell, I don’t know,” Curly said in frustration. “He ran and I shot him. That’s all I got to say about it.”
“Isn’t it true that you’re one of the biggest liars in the whole territory of Montana?” Justin asked.
“That’ll do, Lieutenant!” Kinsey blurted. “You may step down, Mr. James. Now, Lieutenant Landry, do you have any witnesses?”
Before Justin could answer, a voice in the midst of the spectators called out, “Yes, he does.” Everyone turned to see Horace Marshall declare, “I saw the shooting from the window of my store. It was a fair fight. They faced each other in the middle of the street. Homer there counted to three, but Mace cheated and pulled his pistol on two. He shot Cooper in the side. Then Cooper shot him.”
It was a lie. Horace did not actually witness the shooting, but he knew that was the way it happened, because Frank Hudson told him as much. He and Pete Bender had seen the shooting from the window of his saloon. In the face of such deceit, something inside Horace had snapped, and he had to speak out in the name of justice, even if it set him up for an “accident” like the one that took Spence Snyder’s life.
“I saw it, too,” Lon Bessemer called out then. “It was just like Horace said. Mace pulled first, and Curly James wasn’t even there.”
“I saw it,” Orville Johnson declared. “It was a fair fight.”
“Me, too,” Ed Taylor volunteered. “Mace had been trying to get Cooper to have it out with him for a long time. I saw the fight. It was a showdown, fair and square, except Mace tried to cheat and drew early.”
Arthur O’Connor, the postmaster, pushed through to the front. “I wanna testify, too,” he stated. Like the others, he had not witnessed the duel, but he was willing to lie about it to keep Yeager from having his way.
“All right, all right,” Major Kinsey ordered as others pushed forward to testify. “I’m going to have all of you cleared out of here if I hear one more outburst.” He turned his attention back to Justin. “Lieutenant, none of these people have been sworn in, so their testimony is irrelevant to the case.”
“Well, swear them in!” Randolph Valentine exclaimed. What he saw in that courtroom was the emergence of a group of frightened citizens who had been shamed into striking back at a gunman who had intimidated them under a yoke of fear. He had wondered for some time what it was going to take to encourage these men to band together and take their town back. It looked now as if it was finally going to happen. “Seems to me that you should be trying Simon Yeager for perjury and false accusation
,” Valentine charged.
Major Kinsey was on the verge of losing control of his courtroom, and was clearly unsure of what he should do, so he sought to regain that control.
“Quiet!” he shouted. “Or so help me, I’ll clear the lot of you out. I’ve already warned you, Valentine. Now sit down or I’ll arrange for you to sample the accommodations of our guardhouse.” He glared at Valentine until he reluctantly sat down. “I’ll remind the prosecution and the defense that Sheriff Yeager is not on trial here.” When the room quieted down again, he tried to decide what he should do about the overwhelming requests to testify on behalf of Clint.
Finally he decided to wash his hands of it. “It’s my judgment that we’ve heard enough from the witnesses already sworn, so the panel of judges will decide on the verdict.” There was at once a swell of grumbling among the spectators. “I’m warning you!” Kinsey threatened, and the room settled down again. He passed a sheet of paper to each of the officers seated at the table with him. “You have heard the testimony, gentlemen. The matter to be decided is whether the defendant, Clint Cooper, is guilty of murder or not. You will write your verdict on the paper and hand it to me.”
None of the five officers in attendance had ever seen a military hearing quite as out of hand as this one. It was obvious to everyone at this point that Kinsey just wanted to have it over with. The three officers on the panel dutifully wrote down their verdicts and Kinsey collected Grant’s and Sawyer’s to add to his own. He started to read them, then remembered to tell the defendant to stand while the verdict was being read.
When Clint and Justin got to their feet, Kinsey looked at the two papers handed him once, then looked at each again, as if to be certain. Finally he stated, “By unanimous vote, this panel finds the defendant not guilty.”
Judging by the reaction shown by the town’s citizens, it would have been difficult to have come up with any other verdict.
Trial at Fort Keogh Page 21
