Morris tribune. [volume] (Morris, Minn.) 1880-2000, 1910-07-29

group of men on the steps of
Fort Morton courthouse, upon
the dusty cottonwood trees growing
dispiritedIy on each side of the road
that stretched away from the little
sandy square to become a few hun
dred yards below the main street Of
the town and upon the tin roofs of the
two story brick or frame stores on
each side Of it. The jury had been out
overnight and, although it was 10
o'clock in the morning. had given no
sign. The prisoner had not yet been
brought up from the county Jail near
by, and the group Of men directly in
ferested in the proceedings were sit
ting and lounging about the steps,
smoking and carrying on desultory
conversation. The district judge sit
ting on the top step, was an eastern
college man, about forty years of age,
once an athlete and still with a trim,
slender figure. The only touch of the
western in his dress was the gray
SLOUGH hat worn straight and firmly
set upon his brown hair.
"A pretty bit of grazing land" he
out over the level prairie, dotted here
and there with an adobe shack and &C.
casionaI herds of cattle
The sheriff. a brawny, blue shirted
young fellow Of thirty, with unkempt
hair and mustache, uncrossed his boot
ed legs, Strengthened out one of them,
pushed his hand deep into the pocket
of his corduroy trousers and yawned.
A his coat was thrust back with the
movement the butt of his A caliber
Ngun" might be seen. Without reply
ing he drew out large silver watch
and studied it absently.
The small boys among the group Of
hangers-on in front Of the steps were
beguiling themselves tossing ball, and
the prosecuting attorney. young
graduate from the east, who had come
up from Pueblo. called out:
"Here you are, Johnnie; give us
catchv'
The small boy who had the ball
grinned sheepishly and threw it at
him.
Harder. hdrderw said the young
lawyer cheerily. That's no way to
pitch ball Throw it this way" And
the boys hands were scorched as he
caught the return.
"Say, kin you pitch a curve" he
asked. Lets see you do it."
''All right" said Hardy, rising good
naturally and taking off his coat.
Here you go. Hold on" he added.
+F'You couldn't catch it if did. Here,
Mr.. Hackett. go out there and let me
throw you a few curves"
The others laughed at this, for Hack
EFT. the senior counsel for the defense,
also up from Pueblo for the trial. was
an enormous middle aged Hoosier, six
feet two i'll height and weighing $50
pounds. He had a mass of crisp black
hair and wore black broadcloth frock
coat and trousers, low turned down
collar and ready made tie. He was
slow moving and pOnderous, though
GOrceful and shrewd in his profession,
deliberate of speech and anything but
an athlete.
''Here, I'll catch you" exclaimed the
Junior counsel. Blake, a somewhat
ianky, powerfully built westerner, ris-
ing and depositing his rough brown
sack coat beside Hardy's.
"Gee. you've got muscle" he added,
clubbing his hands after the first pass.
Murray" yelled the small boy.
%rThat was a corker. Git on to them
curves, Clarencer he cried in worship
full admiration.
Wouldn't mind a little Of that ex-
Srcise myself" said the judge, rising
interestedly and hesitating on the
steps.
why not have little game while
we are waiting?" said Hardy half iok-
angly. "Come on. sheriff"
Moved by common impulse, the lit
tie group frightened up. threw away
their cigar ends and moved half apoio-
getically into the sandy square. At
&ho left of the co11rfhoa1so and ndiofn