The Luck of the Mounted by Ralph S. Kendall


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Page 39

The two Justices took their places with magisterial decorum, the
witnesses seated themselves again, and, all being ready, the sergeant
opened the court with its time-honoured formula.

The inspector glanced over the various "informations" and handed them
over to his confrere for perusal. A brief whispered colloquy ensued
between them, and then the local justice settled himself back in his
chair, chin in hand. Inspector Kilbride addressed the prisoner who had
remained standing between Yorke and Redmond, and in a clear, passionless
voice proceeded to read out the several charges.

"Do you wish to ask for a remand, Moran?" he enquired, "to enable you to
procure counsel?"

"No, sir!" Moran's sullen, insolent eyes suddenly encountering a
dangerous, steely glare from Kilbride's gray orbs he wilted and
immediately dropped his belligerent attitude. "No use me hirin' a
mouthpiece," he added, "as I'm a-goin' t' plead guilty t' all them
charges."

"Ah!" The inspector thoughtfully conned over the "informations" once
more. "Sergeant Slavin," said he presently, "what are the particulars of
this man's disorderly conduct?"

He listened awhile to the sergeant's evidence, occasionally asking a
question or two, but Mr. Gully remained in the same silent, brooding,
inscrutable attitude which he had adopted at the commencement of the
proceedings. Though apparently listening keenly, his shadowy eyes
betrayed no interest whatever in the case.

Of that face Yorke had once remarked to Slavin: "That beggar's mug fairly
haunts me sometimes. . . . He's a good fellow, Gully,--but, you
know--when he gets that brooding look on his face . . . he's the living
personification of a western Eugene Aram."

And Slavin, engaged in shredding a pipeful of tobacco had mumbled
absently "So?--Ujin Airum!--I du not mind th' ould shtiff--fwhat was his
reg'minthal number?"

The sergeant finished his evidence; Kilbride swung round to his
fellow-justice once more and they held a whispered consultation, the
latter making emphatic gestures throughout the colloquy. This ending the
inspector turned to the prisoner.

"You have pleaded guilty to each of these charges. Have you anything to
say?--any explanation to offer for your reckless, disorderly conduct?"

The prisoner swallowed nervously and shuffled with his feet. "Guess I
was drunk," he said finally, "didn't know what I was doin'."

The inspector's grey eyes glittered coldly. "So?" he drawled ironically,
"the sergeant's evidence is to the contrary. It would appear that you
were not so very drunk. You were neither staggering nor incapable at the
time. It was merely a rehearsal of a cheap bit of dime novel sort of
bar-room, rough-house black-guardism that no doubt in various other
places you have got away with and emerged the swaggering hero. Where do
you come from? Whom are you working for now?"

"Havre, Montana. I'm ridin' fur th' North-West Cattle Company."

"Ah! well, let me tell you that sort of stuff doesn't go over on this
side, my man." He considered a moment and picked up a Criminal Code.
"In view of your pleading guilty to these charges, and therefore not
wasting the time of this court unnecessarily, I propose dealing with you
in more lenient fashion than you deserve. For being unlawfully in
possession of firearms you are fined twenty dollars and costs. For
'pointing fire-arms,' fifty dollars and costs. On the charge of
'resisting the police in the execution of their duty' you are sentenced
to six months imprisonment with hard labour in the Mounted Police
Guard-room at Calgary. You are also required to make restitution for all
damage caused as the result of your fracas."

Moran squirmed and mumbled: "If I've got t' do time on the one charge I
might as well do it on th' rest, an' save th' money fur t' pay fur th'
damage."

"Very good!" agreed the inspector coldly. He bent again to his confrere
and they conferred awhile. Then he turned to the prisoner. "Thirty days
hard labour then--on each of the first two charges--sentences to run
concurrently." He paused a space, resuming sternly: "And let me tell you
this, Moran: in view of certain wild threats uttered by you in public you
have narrowly escaped being charged with the greatest of all crimes. It
is indeed a fortunate thing for you that you have been able to produce a
reliable alibi. All right, Sergeant! you can close the court. Make out
that warrant of commitment and I and Mr. Gully will sign it later. We're
going over to see the coroner."

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Sun 21st Dec 2025, 19:55