CHAPTER 9

Rumors came that Billy's trial would be held in April, and that he would be defended by the noted criminal lawyer of that day, the great "BILL" IRVIN, of whom it was said that he never lost a case. News of the coming trial spread all about the region. The disappointed members of the lynching party made no secret of their determination to "get" Billy when they brought him back,---and if the trial indicated less than a prompt conviction, Irvin would hang to the telegraph pole alongside of Billy. This feeling was aggravated by the appearance of Maggie and Ma when they passed now and then along the street dressed in deep mourning; they had won the love and esteem of everyone, and so it was with Pat, for whose inexcusable murder, Billy was to be tried before a jury of his peers.

Day before the opening of court Billy was escorted from the train to the steel cell by a squad of deputies and soldiers; they were headed by Irvin and followed by a crowd of local citizens along the three blocks of Kelly Avenue. It was the famed lawyer, and not Billy who attracted the crowd and held the gaze of the people along the way.

In this cosmopolitan frontier town, every type of man was to be seen at one time or another; red, brown, yellow, black and white; and of every physical dimension and style of dress,---but Irvin was different; his physique was good to look upon; his six feet four permitted him to look down upon the gazers. But it was his dress rather than mere height, that got the curiosity of the onlookers; his black hair hung to his shoulders, topped by a wide-brim black sombrero; soft white shirt, flowing black crepe necktie, handle-bar mustache and goatee; his clothes were black broadcloth Prince Albert style, and a big diamond hung in his shirtfront, prominent with his low-cut vest. His reputation of having freed every man he ever defended in criminal court, was notice to the local folks that he intended to free Billy; now that they had seen him in person, the friends of May, Maggie ad Pat were more than ever determined that, Irvin or no Irvin, Billy should pay the extreme penalty for his dastardly deed. In the saloons, at poker-tables, livery stables, boarding houses,---wherever men gathered, the coming trial was the sole topic discussed. And the end of thee discussions meant that they would see to it that Billy was made to pay the penalty, trial or no trial.

Court opened in the machinery hall, or rink, where the dance was being held when the murder happened four months before. the first day was devoted to empaneling a jury. This gave Irvin the chance to show his great power as an expert in the law when applied to criminal court procedure. He picked his own jury,---and he was sure that he had one selected which would do his bidding. The adjournment hour convinced the majority of the audience that that was so. Confidence in the court, the district attorney and the jury melted materially, in the minds of the local citizens who had been present and witnessed the ease with which Irvin dominated the proceedings; they already saw that Billy would go free if Irvin was allowed to continue his arrogant way.

People behaved as if the smallpox had come; mutterings and furtive glances came from men who happened to meet on the street to talk it over; Indians and "breeds" understood, for Pat had been their good friend and guardian always, when encamped on the town's border,---on their bone-delivery visits. One of their leaders, Pierre LeVan came to Mudge's office to tell him that: "Pat he nice fella, we lak heem, he iss fren' for my people all time; bad man shoot heem; we kill f'r you."

When the judge's gavel rapped for opening the second day, the room was packed with a motley assemblage of local citizens, cowboys, a few soldiers, and farmers and ranchmen; the walls were lined with Indians and "breeds." At Irvin's counsel table sat the prisoner and beside him were his father and mother,---to win sympathy.

District Attorney Kelly made a clear, concise and forceful presentation of the case; he showed that Pat had been shot to death by Billy; he showed the time, place and detail of the unprovoked murder, and proposed to prove by competent witnesses that any unprejudiced jury must, under the laws of the Territory, find for the plaintiff; the verdict must be murder in the first degree, and the sentence in such cases provided would be---must be---carried out, he said.

Kelly called for Dr. Kamp to the stand who, on direct examination, showed that he had examined the body after the shooting, and found one bullet hole through the heart from which immediate death had occurred; he admitted however, that no post-mortem had been held. Irvin took the witness for cross-examination. It took but a short time for him to prove that the witness had in no way established how or why Pat had come to his death; he made the doctor admit that he did not know that the bullet had killed Pat. He could not say that the bullet had penetrated the heart,---nor even that it was a bullet which had made the wound; he was excused amid loud murmurs from the crowd; it was some time before the court secured order. Then court adjourned for lunch; extra guards surrounded the prisoner and Irvin on their way to the Benham House and return.

In the afternoon session two more witnesses were put on the stand only to have their testimony torn to shreds by the great lawyer. Maggie was one of these witnesses, drawn by Kelly to show that Pat was in excellent health up to the time of his killing by Billy on New Year's Eve in the saloon; that the bullet had entered just near to the left nipple; that there was no doubt whatever that this bullet had killed him. Her testimony went for naught after Irvin made her admit that Pat was a great eater; that he had heart-trouble; had fainting spells at times.

When court opened next day Irvin seated himself at the counsel table wrapped in a long black overcoat notwithstanding the weather was warm; the Plaintiff had rested, and Irvin was ready to open his case for the defense. On rap of the gavel, Irvin rose, threw off his ulster, faced the jury. He had stripped his body to the waist and over it was painted in varied colors a replica of human chest physiology, heart, lungs, ribs, veins and other features belonging to a correct chart of inner workings of a male member of the human family. He showed that no proof had been presented which in any way, could be construed to fasten the death of Pat on his client. Instead, he was able to convince everyone that Pat had died from fatty degeneration of the heart; the little wound in the breast did not indicate anything, certainly not that he had died from it. He had merely taken one of his regular spells in the excitement, and died from heart failure; he had proved that the wound could not have been fatal at all even if a bullet had entered at that point; he had proved that the heart did not lie where the bullet mark--or other wound---had been shown by testimony to be. When the day was over and court adjourned, the audience was beginning to see that Billy was to be freed; it was common report amongst the knowing, that if the jury's verdict was for the defendant, there would be a real lynching party of first magnitude; the cowboys and breeds were to come next day, with stout ropes and plenty of 45's.

That night Mudge's room-mate, the indefatigable Doc Smith organized a little party composed of the night policeman, two men armed with lanterns and shovels, and the defeated Dr. Kamp as a assistant. At midnight they went to the grave of Pat, dug up the cadaver, held a post-mortem by the dim light of the lanterns; they found the heart with a bullet hole through it, and the bullet lodged in the ribs back of it; these they took out, placed them in an old tin pan, shoveled the frozen earth back over the casket,---and came home to make a more careful investigation; they got official affidavits under the guidance of the District Attorney in preparation for opening of court next day; they got a couple of hours sleep.

Irvin was making his great plea to the jury; he had made a complete argument up to the point of asking the discharge of the prisoner; he was sure of his case; he had convinced the jury; but before he ceased, the District Attorney rose to a point of order; he asked the court to let him present some testimony which had just come to his attention. Objection was raised by Irvin; he demanded that he had rested his case, the District Attorney could not be permitted to re-open it for further evidence at which the court was handed the affidavits of pubic officials; he over-ruled the objections and gave the floor to the District Attorney. Kelly drew from beneath his table the covered tin-pan, turned back the cloth which hid the awful sight, held it to the jury and told them the story, and showed them the heart with the bullet hole through it, and the bullet which made it,---and the proof that it fitted exactly, the gun of Billy used the night of the murder. Irvin roared that he wouldn't tolerate such a hideous performance in any court; waved his long arms, charged that the court was unfair, prejudiced and must rule a mistrial; but pandemonium ruled just then; the audience was taking a hand; Irvin saw that he had better sit down, or take something like a lasso to quiet him. Order of a kind was finally gained by the judge, and he charged the jury in a few words, ordered them to enter the little outbuilding at the rear, there to consult and bring in their verdict.

Ten minutes was sufficient for meditation; they came into the hall and the foreman told the court that their verdict was murder in the second degree; the sentence was twelve years in the penitentiary at Bismarck.

Bill Irvin had lost his first case. Mudge walked with Billy to the train which was to take him away; the sheriff and armed guards in front and rear; he had accompanied Billy on coming to town and wished to say good-bye to him when he left,---and he wanted to know just why he had shot Pat, and asked him. Billy's eyes filled with tears as he replied: "I didn't mean to kill him; he was my friend." There they shook hands and Billy boarded the train for his long and pitiful incarceration.