Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1888-04-19

the two officers appeared, their hands
resting firmly on the shoulders of g
figure between them. All eyes were bent
on him and he knew it. With shuffling
| tread and HAND to his face he was showed
| rather than led into the witness chair.
He was the pariah of his class, the de-
testatlon of criminals, the frequent in
strument of the law, the nameless vicari-
GUS avenger-states evidence. There
was scorn of him III every heart, loath-
ing in every look, from the judge on the
bench to the small boy in the rear in
dustriously cracking pecans. Only the
district attorney encouraged him with
q smile as the digusted clerk arose and
and profared him the B BILE TO kiss. He
touched it lightly with his dirty lips and
muttered sn affirmative to the "a pid
formula. From first to last he carefully
avoided looking at the prisoner, who,
with rigid face unchanged, glared ven
omously at him. No leading questions
were necessary. He told his story glibly,
and rapidly, as if anxious to have done
with it and escape from the inimical at
mosphere that surrounded him.
Yes, his right name was 81 Brady. He
had known the prisoner long. He saw
him murder the peddler "Jew Levy"
He shot him in the head while they were
walking side by side. The Jew did not
speak after the shot. He and Wilkinson
divided the booty, Wilkinson taking the
larger share. He had given some of it to
Wllkinson's wife. Wilkinson had also
given some of it to the woman. The red
silk was given by Wilkinson. He be-
lieved the woman then had on the dress.
Il looked like it. They told her they had
bought the goods. Wilkinson had
planned the murder and had committed
it upaided. He BRADY had simply fol-
lowed his leader.
"You lie!' yelled the prisoner, spring
ing to his feet, his gaunt frame shaken
with passion. "You cid it yourself"
For the first time Brady looked at him.
~ tell the truth" he said. your folks
has threatened my life to keep me from
telling. I b'lieve they'll kill me yit."
With a smile of triumph, Wilkinson
sank into his chair. "Y'are right" he
muttered.
It was some hours later when the jury,
pale but unit, brought in their an
nouncemen6 of guilty as charged. The
condemned stood the verdict and SEN
tence unmoVed. He seemed to breath
more freely, now that the strain was over,
and his eyes no longer fervently intent
upon the proceedings, rOamed restlessly
among the faces, seeking his betrayer.
Brady had skunk away after merciless
cross-examination, and now stood half
sheltered behind the sheriff. That funct-
tionary was very grave. 1t was noticeable
that his treatment of the states witness
was gentle.
1T reminds me-" said one, 'of how ne
looked the day he hung Seth Jones, the
nIgger."
The sheriff evidently regarded Brady
as dead man, man under sentence,
whose Iife-lease was shorter by weeks
than his late companion's. If a poll of
the 500 heads then assembled had been
taken, there were probably none WHO
would have concurred in the opinion
that the person of many aliases, in his
desperate grasp at liberty, had signed
his own death warrant. And he knew it.
You might read it in every line of his
blanched face, in his shrinking figure, as
he chung to 5he law he had battled against
all his life, personified in the quiet of
ficer who could give him no protection.
When the deputies passed with Wilkih-
son in custody, the condemned glanced
only once at his betrayer, and in the look
there was world of malice and exulta
ton. He passed out; the heavy doors
shut behind him, and as the last strag-
gler left the room, Brady, turAed to the
sheriff and said huskily.
''My boss is hitcheC back O. the court'us,
sheriff. l must be riden'. l wanter put
fifty miles betwix nae an this place by
sun-up."
"Ride fast, my boy" said the officer,
'and keep your eyes skinned"
Together the two men descended the
steps and walked to the south side OF the
plaza, where powerful black horse
idly champed the bit and moved his head
up and down in recognition of their
coming.
He's a good 'un," said Brady, stop
piLg even then to stroke the tangled
name and purposely adjusting the stir
rups. lies bout all I've got left"
His face was very pale and his lips
trembIed as he climbed stiff1y into the
saddle. He turned, as he gathered up
the reIns, and held out an awkward hand.
81 did it to save my life, john" he
said. wont yer shake han's?"
The sheriff stood moment with folded
arms, peering up into the dark face
above him.
give shook hands with murderer
afore he went through the trap" he re-
Joined slowly, "an' I've clasped a many
hand IS were red with crime, but the man
as hung were brave man, though he
we're a niger, an he never went back on
his friends. No, won't shake.'
With q ruttered oath Brady stopped in
the saddle and shot out into the darkness.
The sheriff watched him musingly mo-
ment, then, shaking his head, walked
slowly away.
1t was cloudy night and there was no
moon to cast shadows. On the wide,
white road that led away from the town
there was only dLsky stiffness. The sand
glimmered family, and the ragged fringe
of bushes stood dwarfed and silent
spectator Of the race against death. A
slow wind went abroad that murmured
softly over the lonely stretches, as if Groom
ing whispered warning. Sitting low in
the saddle, every pound of him disposed
to the best advantage; crogched so as to
afford the least possible mark for bullet;
with slouched hat pulled over his eyes;
with quick chances roaming to and fro,
ahead, on either side; starting at the
slightest rustic; CHANGING pprehensively
at the black stumps of decayed trees !;
praying that the dark might last and no
starlight come; stealing hand down now
and then to feel the Winchester Rugged
closely under his knee, States Evidence
sped along. The Precipitation rolled from
his freckled forehead and fell on the wet
ter withers of the horse. The saddle
creaked under the rapid motion, and it
seemed to the fugitive that the roll of the