The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1918-01-03
UNFINISHED TRIAL
BY JOSEPH L-AUGHLIN.

that Marion Marie was captured.
While the sun was still yellow and
lusterless through the morning haze,
and before it had reached over into
the draws and hollows of the clay hills,
the men of the neighborhood were in
the saddle and the story of the taking
of Marion Marie the night before was
on their lips. They We're riding in
groups and in pairs and some were rid
ing singly, but all their paths We're
converging toward Squire Yantley's
sawmill.
Along the winding roads Bill Ticket
was pressing hard his tired horses into
hard gallop. He was the president
of the Anti-Horse Thief association
and he was spreading the news of the
capture and that was notice TO the
members of the association that he
wanted them at the trial, which was to
be held at the sawmlll.
"Takes men to handle ropes when
we got boss thieves about" he said.
But the friends OF Marion Marie
were among those who we're riding
over the yellow clay knob on the east
and came galloping across the bottom
on the west, and came out on the
bride paths that led from the other
directions to the MILL Word had gone
out to them, also, in the night from
Hex Tickets house. Nan Telket had
dared to love this man over whose
head hung the odious charge of horse
stealing.
None of the men was thoughtless
enough to come to the trial unarmed.
The mill shed, which served as the
courtroom, was crowded. Squire Yant-
ley was nervous. Johnny Moore, the
sheriff, and his deputy, Dave Maypum,
sat with their backs to the wall, re-
volver in each hand with their pris-
oner between them. Some men in the
room were taller, some were broader
of shoulder, but none was as handsome
in face and figure as Marie.
81 amt never tried no hossthief
cases." said Squire Yantley, "but If
ye'll just keep good order guess We'll
get along all right" And he leaned over
to Sheriff Moore for advice as to meth
DDS of procedure. Then he called upon
the prisoner to enter his plea.
81 amt guilty" said Marie, as he
stood erect and tossed back his hair.
"Well, who ISL" demanded the
squire.
"There's the hossthief," he cried,
pointing with his arm outstretched,
Bill Telket stole the mare"
Bill Ticket sprang to his feet. The
assemblage was suddenly in motion,
Backward and forward and sidewise,
it swayed ominously.
A murmur arose in the rear of the
room. The crowd parted, making a
path through its center, till girl
rushed into the open space where the
prisoner stood in the attitude Of de-
fiance, facing Bill Telket, She pulled
from her head a blue sunbonnet,
whose edges dropped and half hid her
face.
Nan, what brings you here?" cried
Bill Ticket.
II come teh save man that new
err"
Itch save a hossthlefW
"You-eh my brother Bill, 'en I love
yeh, zen l come teh stop yeh from
sayln' in court tibet Marion Marze's a
hossthief Squire, Marion amt no
hossthief. He never stole the mare !"
"Well, who did steal 'er, Nan?
asked the court.
Don ask me, squire; can't tell
yeh, but Marion didn't"
EFF you don tell, Nan, We'll lief teh
penitenshy m"
"Yeh CANT; yeh cain'tl They'se
men here tibet won't let yeh !"
Here, Nan, theyse enough o. that"
said Bill Telket fsrcely, as he seized
his sister by the wrist and drew her
rudely back.
She turned on her brother and he
shrunk from the flashing of her dark
eyes. She released her wrist from his
grip. A half-subdued roar won't up
from the crowd and 1t moved forward
A man in the front rank was holding
up revolver. The girl sprang at him
and snatched the weapon with such
suddenness that she had wrenched ii
from him before he could tighten his
strong fingers on It's handle. Quicker
than the men were thinking she was
at the side of the prisoner.
"Here, Marion" she whispered, plac-
ing the revolver In his hand "Run
fur 1t. Fight yer way out. Yer boss
is at the crick."
While she held up her face to him
he bent his head and kissed her. Then
with ringing yell he leaped straight
at the crowd which opened n pathway
for him and then closed in behind him.
AS he sprang out pistol was fired.
Savage yells were raised and n fusll-
lade of shots rang and the crowd be-
came tangled, seething mass.
Along the tortuous and forest-shel-
tefed course of Muscle Ford creek Ma
rion Marie was riding fast by the time
the sheriffs had got out OF the battling,
savage crowd. That night he rode out
on the upland ridges where the red
bush country yields It's gnarls and
knobs to the gentled fluctuations of
the Missouri pralries on the west. His
broad-i1mmed hat was cooked In front
by the cool wind; his black hair was
hanging out In tresses; a red silk hand
kerchef was fluttering ut his neck;
hIc fraa hand Wac cnrpgginV the Tponp