Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1888-12-06
MY FIRST CASE,

Accordingly, early in June, l packed
my gripsack with what few dUds 1 had,
and my law library-consisting of dog
cared volume of Blackstone, patent
office report and a last years almanac
and started for my new home, with con-
siderably bigger pile of bright anticipa-
lions than cash.
In due time arrived in that, then COM
paratively new commonwealth, Texas;
which I had been taught was several
times larger than sail out doors" and
which tradition said could boast of but
one lone star, but enough thieves and
ticks TO fertilize the rest of creation.
After looking around a bit for loca-
ton, cast anchor and my old shoes in
the little town of W, the unpreten-
tious county seat of B-county where l
soon secured boarding and a little 6x9
room for an Office.
1 was not long in discovering that the
place was as unattractive as turnip
patch in December, with a population of
perhaps 100 souls, including the dogs and
bar-rOoms.
Several meals Of passable beef and
corn bread, buttermilk and collards had
been snugly tucked away in the deep
recesses of my anatomy where they
would do the most good, and still no indi-
cations that any one in that section had
the slightest disposition to monkey with
law in any shape whatever.
was growing desperate.
So was my landlord.
But my board bill was growing faster
than the whole business.
Weeks passed, then into months; sum
mer came and went, and l began to think
that frost would catch me in the woods
with my pants unpatched before client
could be induced to come to the rescue.
In this interesting dilemma found
myself one night, early in September,
Just about as sky colored an individ-
ual as there was in Texas. I was sitting
in my little cuddy of an Office debating
whether I should set the town on fire and
prosecute somebody for the offence, or
shove my unoffending Blackstone in the
fire and then commit suicide by swallow
ing the inkstand, when the door was un >
tremendously pushed open to admit a
rough looking, six feet-two specimen of
Texas humanity, who, without word, de-
liberately planted himself on the only
spare stool in the Office as if he were the
head of the family.
I felt somewhat relieved when I saw it
wasn't the sheriff or my washerwoman,
but I was not favorably impressed with
the looks of my visitor, for imagined
there was bad case of assassination pic
tured in his cOuntenance, and L knew
there were the handle ends of two or
three shooting arrangements plainly vls1-
BILE in as many pockets of his outer haT-
ness.
While I was looking at him and mental
ly calculating where he would hit me, he
spit on the stove as a prefaoe and com
uoenced:
"What mout your name be, stranger? 7"
"Goggins, il you please" L answered,
very politely.
"Edzactly," said he. Grown is my
name. I've heerd OF you down in our neck,
lawyer"
''Some," I answered proudly, beginning
to see fee in the dim distance, though,
judging from appearance, was not bet
ting on very big one.
"Edzactly," he went on; "that's what l
tho't. Wall, I've got little bizness here
fer ye."
it began to occur to me that my visitor
was quite a benevolent looking gentle
man."
'You see my son Johns in a bad scrap,
d1ng'd eff he amt"
"How's that?"
'He's in jail here, for murder, that's
how's that" he explained.
"You don't mean it," L returned with
feigned establishment.
''Wby don't r."
"When and where was the crime com
mitted?" asked.
"Last February, down in my settle
ment, but, squire, he's no more guilty of
murder than my steer is"
:'How do you know?"
because he warn't thar when the Teller
was killed"
Scan you prove an alibi?" I then in
quired.
mo, can't prove lie by anybody, but
I'm clear satisfied that somebody's lied
TO cl'ar theyselves."
''Who was the man killed."
ga peddler named Reed; but what
would John or anybody else want to muir
der the poor Teller for? He weren't
robbed"
"Who says your son killed him?"
ga Teller named Smith, swars he saw
him do the sh0otin'"
sWhat's your defense?" I asked.
"Got none," be answered, "but I'll tell
you what I'll do"
Lets hear it."
"Ef you'll get my boy ouEn the scrape
I'Il poke $1,000 in your pocket quicker'n
you could swaller q muskidine. and I'll
deposit the cash with. the county treasurer
tomorrow"
''I'll do my best" readily assented,
and thus it was settled, and my visitor
departed.
The next day, true to his word, my
friend Brown returned and deposited the
fee as promised, Win a written agree
ment that if I succeeded the money was
mine-otherwise it wasn't. But two
weeks interviewed before court convened,
and it may be imagined thet went to
work with hungry will to get the mat
ter in shape for trial. I first visited the
scene of the murder, where 1 learned
that the peddler was found dead on the
last night of the preceding February
near theresidence of man named Jones.
next called on young Smith, the princl-
pal witness in the case, who informed
ms that he saw the defendant do the
shooting. and had so testified at the COM
mitment trial and would repeat the dose
before the grand jury soon to investigate
the matter.
I oian't like the looks of this fellow
Smith, though I learned that he was a
man of coed character in the community.
He seemed too eager to get the defendant