Iowa voter. [volume] (Knoxville, Iowa) 1867-1874, 1873-09-04

little laws over anything l ever
heard on Well, it was mighty fortunate
for us that Judge Perry happened to be
in the crowd He'd ridden over that
morning before, to look at some mines;
and, hearing some noise, he come up.
Gentlemen said he, in his lawyerlsh
sort of way, let us know the point at Is
sue Well, told him the whole. story,
and he listened very grave. Gentlemen
said he, let us do this thing calm and
proper. Assuming that the late MI.
Childers is dead, was their any property
which might offer an inducement to Gu
pidity about him? In other words, what
did he have worth stealing? Five nun.
dred dollars in gold says l, in belt
The gold says the Judge, very impas-
sive, is not distinguishable as the pro-
perty of the late Mr.. Childers. But the
belt may be about, and would recon-
Let us do this thing calm and deliberate.
| would appoint Messrs. Tom Shaw and
Aired Kelly a committee of two to inyes-
tigate and search for this belt in Manwel's
house,
"Well, sir, they went in. Maxwell looked
fierce enough at us. We waited, jest
holding our breath; and in about fifteen
minutes out they come-and they had
found 1t! Oh! the yell that went up! II
seemed jest to bust out of itself and split
things. Stop, gentlemenn says the Judge,
still cool and dignifed. The law gives
every criminal the benefit of doubt
Prisoner, do you confess your guilt, after
this strong circumstantial evidence y
No. snarled MARVEL, that proves moth.
ing Then, fellow-citizens,' says the
Judge, seeming to grow taller and strong
er every minute, as he spoke, let us trust
| to this poor dumb beast. He has shown
singular sagacity thus far, and he can
help us still. Three of you boys pack up
take Maxwell with you, and let the mule
90. He'll lead us to where poor Joe
Childers lays, or don't know nothing OF
mules nor law neither Pan out, boys
| for Pm bound to see this thing through.
| Maxwell commenced to tremble. The
Judge was watching him like lion.
| knowed he couldn't stand it long, and
wondered that he held out so long as he
| did. Kelly and me and the Judge packed
up, and we started Then Maxwell caved
| in. He told how he had laid for Joe
| early and late, how he hated him, and
| how he killed him. 1t was in the canyon
which Joe and had tried to pass. Busted
was feeding loose, Joe was asleep, and
this mean coward stabbed him then
and there. Then the mule snatch
ed his hat and got. He fired after
him and hit him in the hip. He saddled
and galloped full split. 1t want no use
| Whether it was knowngness or ugliness
that helped him, that mule hid, and he
couldn't find him. Well, he finished, and
the Judge was pale as death.
"'Prisoner,' said he, lin all my years on
| the Coast | have never known or heard OF
more sneakin' murder Is it the pleas
ure of this community that sentence
should be passed upon him here and
nows'
"Yesp we yelled; but our voices
didn't sound human. We was just wild
for blood
"'Thon,' said the Judge, take him to
the canyon where the remains of his vic.
tim is reposing, and there let him be
hung; or, if no trees can be found, shoot
the cuss.'
"Nevern yelled Maxwell Not there
Oh! my God not there! He slipped
quick as lightning out of the holt Of the
men who was standing by him. We see
his knife flash in the air. He ran to the
mule, cursing terrible, and stabbed ii
three times. 1t was dreadful to see him.
| He was like maniac; and so was all OF
us, for that matter What more he'd have
done l don't know. I've always thought
he meant to kill himself; but he didn't
| have time to, for with his last stab at
Busted up went ALT Kelly's revolver, and
he fell dead. We buried him, and we or
dered Warn out of that settlement.
have been at many trials in my day, but
never to one more impressive than that
one was. Sometimes | dream Of it even
now The dramatis personnel of that af.
fair are scattered now. Kelly is leading
railroad man in Frisco; the Judge went
to Congress, and now has got an Indian
agency, which they say is a pretty fat
thing; and | made my pile and lost it,
and am down to a packer, with them over
my head who once / wouldn't have
looked at"
"And what became of the mule?" asked
John Courts
"Oh! Busted had wounds enough from
that thief Maxwell to kill fifty mules" re
piled Mr. English ave buried him in
style, though We had a regular high
toned old funeral over him. Smarty
Jones, him as was shot in White Pine
Hut, years ago, by the Vigilants, was
mighty good at improvising them things
and, as long as us fellows couldn't bury
poor Joe, we was bound to make it up on
Busted. And now I'd like - krcw. e
that mule wasn't faithful, what you'd call
faithfully"
And Mr.. English poked the fire, which
sent up a ruddy CLEAN and lit the group
around it with fitful, Pickering light.
His answer was heard. His point was
evidently gained, as the only sound in the
camp was overheard in the low, half
mournful murmur of the breeze, which
seemed to wall sadly through the rocky
canyon.-N. Y. Independent.