TALES OF ADVENTURE

Auckland Star, Volume LVI, Issue 192, 15 August 1925, Page 27

TALES OF ADVENTURE

(By H. M. SUTHERLAND.)

(Concluded.)

SYNOPSIS OF FIRST INSTALMENT. Shorty Hostend, of a Kentucky township, complains that someone has stolen twenty Joints of two-inch pipe. Horgan, the deputy-sheriff, hears old Poll Chunks son Mcl has been seen driving a wagon out of ihe town at mldnlcht. lt Is known that Mcl has a still in the hills, and the deputy Koes with others to And Mcl and the still.The deputy finds the still and breaks lt up. Somebody rides into town saying Poll Chunk's boys have killed .Tason Ilartley. The boys are hidden. The deputy watches old Poli Chunk and follows her Into the bush, where she tukes provisions to her son Mel. The police officer finds Mcl and covers him with his revolver. The old woman, who is considered to be mad, hurls herself at the de»uty, but he succeeds in handcuffing his man. Mcl is standing his trial at the local court.

The preliminaries were soon over. The court-room was crowded with bearded hillsmen and their wives, while a large proportion of the townsfolk were scattered behind the railing. A low buzz of conversation droned monotonously and the sheriff beat a staccato protest on a table with his gavel to restore order.

Mcl sat in the prisoner's box and exhibited only a slight interest in his surroundings. Once or twice he whispered replies to questions asked by his counsel, but for the most part he remained hunched in his chair staring at the floor. He was tall, slender, and thin-visaged, like all his kind throughout the hills, and in his black eyes there was a glinting hint of the untamed, somehow mixed with an expression of placidity.

Near him, but behind tho railing, crouched Old Poll, her bonnet pulled still lower over her face. She leaned forward, and never a movement inside the railing seemed to escape her. Her gnarled, red hands clasped and unclasped convulsively as the preparations got under way. For long intervals she would gaze at Mcl with a fixed expression, and then turn toward Deputy Horgan, who sat beside him. Several times Horgan was certain he saw a look of unutterable hate in her eyes as she peered malevolently at him.

Throughout the first morning of the trial Old Poll sat there immobile save when she occasionally turned her head as the fight waxed warm between the two lawyers. At the noon hour she walked the streets mumbling, studiously dodging those who approached her. She scorned the sidewalks and plodded through the mud with half-a-dozen curious children trailing at her heels.

The storekeeper, Dick Branham, was on the witness stand that afternoon, as were four or five of his neighbours, but none of them could give any direct evidence except that they had heard a number of shots and, on arriving at the Bcene, found Hartley's body lying in the middle of the road. Branham had seen Mcl and Dave Vinters go up the road a scant half-hour before the shooting, and fifteen minutes later Jason Hartley had walked by. Knowing the part that Hartley had played in the capture of Mel's still, said Branham, he hurried out to warn him of the presence of the Vinters' boys, but when he reached the door Jason was so far away that it was almost useless to try to call him without following. The questions and wranglings of the opposing attorneys were never-ending, and the spectators and court attendants welcomed the end of the session, which came late in the afternoon.

That night Old Poll walked the streets for hours, and the townspeople pitied her as she passed their doors, but to every invitation to come in and sit by the fire, she shook an impatient head. She had not eaten during the day—of that all were certain. Twice she walked the length of the street before Horgan ■and a hillsman brought her by force into a restaurant and set food before her. She ate mechanically and then obediently followed them to the hotel, where they locked her in a room. Soon after the trial was resumed next morning the state's star witness was called to the stand. Branham's elevcn-vear-old girl, Florence, had been the sole eye-witness to the killing, and, although thoroughly frightened, she told a succinct story, "which the astute McSell entirely failed to change after an hour's furious effort.

The child, as she took the stand, looked appealing]}' at her father, who nodded his head" encouragingly. The judge smiled kindly at her, and her lips quivered as she kissed the stained Bible.

"Now tell us just what you saw, Florence," said Waters gently. "Begin at the beginning and don't leave anything out. Just describe what you saw when you were in the field above the road on the day Jason Hartley was killed."

The crowd about the railing leaned forward breathlessly to catch each falter-, ing, half-whispered word in the girl's evidence.

"POLL CHUNK'S" SON.

"I_l -was huntin' for the calf up in the fields. It had broke out of the pen the night befo', an—an' " "Yes, go on!" encouraged Waters, while McSell sat waiting tense and expectant. "I heard somebody cussin' down on the road an' I saw Mcl and Dave standin' at the side of the road. Hartley walkin' towards them on the other side »

"Who was swearing and wnat was he saying?" queried Waters gently. "It was Mel. He said, 'You spy!' An' he took two or three steps towards Hartley an' "

The child broke off suddenly and stared at Old Poll, plainly frightened. The redrimmed eyes of the aged woman were fixed balefully on the witness and seemed to fascinate her. The judge was forced to speak to Florence before she could bring her mind back to her story.

"Mcl an' Dave both drawed their guns an' started shootin'," continued the girl, almost in a whisper. "I reckon they must have shot about three times apiece, an' Jason Hartley doubled up an' fell. Mcl walked towards him an' shot ag*m every time he took a step. Then. I turned an' run home an' told Ma what I saw."

"Did Hartley shoot at all during this time ?" questioned Waters.

"No, sir. His hands were hangin' down at his sides."

Waters smilingly turned the witness over to the defence, and McSell tried every trick he had ever known to discredit her stoi-y, but Florence remained adamant. Never once did she vary from her original recital, and the jury and spectators knew that she was telling just what she had seen. McSell shrugged his shoulders and permitted the girl to leave the stand. He realised that the case was lost. Nothing in his power could stop the conviction of Mcl Vinters, and he knew that his final appeal would be so much wasted breath. When the arguments were ended and the case went to the jury late that afternoon practically every spectator remained waiting for the verdict. They realised that the jury would 'require little time to reach its decision. There was but one course open. Florence's testimony had closed all others.

After half an hour's deliberation the jury filed slowly down the stairs and resumed their seats.

"Have you reached your verdict, gentlemen?" asked the judge.

The foreman arose in a manner that betrayed his self-consciousness and answered: "We have."

The clerk crossed the room and took a slip of paper from the foreman's hands. "The prisoner will please stand," ordered the judge. Mcl obeyed mechanically, and when he straightened he seemed to tower over everyone in the room. " 'We, the gentlemen of the jury,'" intoned the clerk, '"find the defendant, Melvin Vinters, guilty of murde*. in the first degree.'" Not a sound broke the stillness of the room for a long minute. Mcl stood perfectly still—not an eyelash flickered. Old Poll half rose in her seat and then sank back again with a low groan. "What nerve! Don't he take it calm?" whispered a spectator to Horgan, across the railing. "Look at him. He never flinched!" *1 don't think he understands," replied Horgan. "He's the most ignorant man I ever saw. He hasn't understood half of what's been goin' on since the trial opened." At a gesture from the sheriff Horgan stepped over to, the prisoner, and the two officers quickly rushed him through the Crowd to the jail. They feared a sudden outbreak on the part of Mel's friends, and Horgan breathed a sigh of relief when the key turned behind the condemned man. Mcl had said not a word as they left the court-house, but once inside his cell, he turned and caught the bars with both hands. "What did they mean?" he asked dully. "They sentenced you to die," replied the sheriff bluntly. "No! No!" Mcl sank to a chair and cowered in abject fear and unbelief. "They couldn't do that. Can't they vote agin? They've got to—they can't- " "Pull yourself together, Mcl!" said the sheriff, not unkindly. "It won't do any good carryin' on like that." "Do ye mean I've got to die?" Mel'a voice was filled with trembling incredulity. The sheriff nodded. "Good heavens! Not that! Not that!" Mcl threw himself on the iron couch 6 covered his face with his arms.

Horgan, deep in thought, "almost fell over Old Poll at the jail door when he started over to the hotel.

"I want to see Mcl," she begged. "I've got to pray for him. He ain't never prayed yet. Kin I go in?"

"2sot to-night Poll," Horgan replied. "Let Mcl rest to-night. You can see him to-morrow."

Then he watched the old woman walk slowly out to the street and falter uncertainly at the corner. He hurried his steps and caught up with her as she was apparently trying to decide which way to go.

"Come on in to supper, Aunt Poll," he suggested. "It's about ready now."

But she shook her head vaguely and stalked stiffly away.

That night, once again, she walked the streets like a lost soul, her bent form showing wraith-like and shadowy as she trudged through the broad bands of light from some window. At irregular intervals she burst into song and sometimes varied this by shouting phrases and sentences originally from the Bible, but warped and misquoted in her crazed thoughts.

Soon after nine o'clock ne.vt morning Horgan and Sheriff Calvin went to the jail and found Old Poll sitting on the steps waiting for them. They permitted her to follow them to the cell door, where she leaned weakly against the wall while tlie jailer turned the key in th.c heavy lock. When Mcl appeared she clutched him by the arm. "What are ye doin' hyar, Ma'" he asked shortly. "Ye'd better go back home." Old Poll laughed a trifle wildly, but the cackle was cut short by a tremulous sob. as she replied:— "We ain't got no home—'ceps Heaven, Mel." She clung to his arm as the two officers led him down the corridor and out into the jail yard.

"Whar we goin'?" he demanded truculently. "The judge has to pronounce sentence on you," exclaimed the sheriff. He unlocked one of the wristlets from Mel's right arm and started to fasten it about his own left to safeguard against any attempt at escape. At that instant, however, Mcl Baw his chance and leaped with a single bound to the top of tho wall along the court-house square. The handcuffs jangled at his wrist as he darted toward the street. With hia first movement Old Poll clutched at Horgan and prevented his drawing a gun. He fought her off and finally succeeded in snatching an automatic from hia holster; but before he could level it at the fleeing man, Sheriff Calvin fired three times —so swiftly that the explosions sounded in a continuous roll.

Mcl had reached a pile of lumber at the corner of the court-house, and was leaping for cover behind it when one of tlie sheriff's bullets caught him. He sagged to his knees and threw his arm across the top of the boards. In this position he remained, although Horgan and Calvin watched him for several seconds, wondering whether it was soma trick.

Old Poll wa3 the first to reach him, and put her arm round his shoulders. His head dropped to one side and came to a rest against a board. A glanca told Horgan that he was dead.

"Thank God!" cried Old Poll, and the tears streamed down her cheeks. She arose and clasped her hands in an attitude of prayer. "My boy! My boy!" she sobbed; "ye died on yo' knees. That's all I want to know. Ye died on o' knees. The Lord will understand." The people of Elkhorn took up a collection, and two days later Mcl was buried in the town cemetery On that same day Old Poll disappeared, and Elkhorn knew her no more. The End.