Evening Republican, Volume 14, Number 151, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 25 June 1910 — Billy Houck and the Hog-Thief [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

Billy Houck and the Hog-Thief

Fully seventy-five men sat on the grass or stood In groups about the paid, waiting Impatiently for th* trial to begin. It was only to be a preliminary hearing before the justice of th* peace, but any sort of hog-stealing case was of great Interest to Buckeye Bridge. Horse-stealing, forgery, burglary, arson might arouse other communities, but the great legal battles of Buckeye Bridge were fought over the dead or missing body of the hog. In th* hills north of the valley was much wild timber land, and in the autumn many farmers marked their hogs with sartaln holes and silts In their ears and turned them out to eat the acorns. But this was not to be much of a trial; It was a pretty plain case. Jess Owens turned the hog out one morning. and the next day Buck Powell sold It. dressed, to a store at Sarvls Peint. The ears wers left on, and Owens’ mark was easily Identified. Besides, you could convict Buck on almost any •harge without a witness. He was one of the class known to th* community as “river rats"; he lived in a board ahack near the river and rented a patch of land that was everflowed about every other year. He waa a shambling, bilious fellow, with milky eyes that never looked at anything In particular, and a quivering mouth that neved seemed decided whether It ought to stay open or shut. Suspicions attacked to Buck as readily as summer files to a runt oalf. ’*l guess they’ll sure send Buck up,” remarked Cy Todd, one of a group In th* courthouse yard. “Well, he got the hog all right,” said J*ss Owens. “It was a good one, too. I’d been feeding it corn for six weeks, and had it just about ready to butcher. It weighed two twenty-five when Buck Mid It at the Point.” “Just the hog bein’ fat would be evlience enough to convict Buck,” Bhuckled “Windy” Jim Davis. “He never raised enough corn In his life to fatten any sort of hog; and nobody •ver raised enough to fatten one of his. You could feed one of them ra-sor-backs a whole car-load of corn, and U would all go to legs and bristle.” “I wouldn’t have bothered the law with It,’ said Owens, vindictively, “If Powell had been any sort of a man. Bat I ain't got the stomach to beat np an ornery runt like that” “He ought rum long time ago," declared Todd. "There he Is now.” The constable had come up with the prisoner, and stopped near the courthouse door to wait for the squire. “Is that Powell’B girl?” asked one. “Yes,” answered Windy Jim. They all turned to look. * Th* child was perhaps 12 years old, had brown hair and eyes, and a clear face, vivid with personality. She stood straight, with one hand holding to her father’s sleeve. “Seems queer,” reflected Windy Jim, “what good children some of the ornerlest people have. But I reckon that Is the only way we can ever get ahead any. If all the children were as triflin’ as their dads, this would sura be a wilderness of woe. That little girl Bess there keeps house for that ■kalawag and the two younger children. And the teacher says she's the smartest scholar that ever went to school In our district.” Billy Houck, the Justice of the peace, came up, and they all followed into the courthouse. The case was called. The prosecuting attorney was there to represent th* State. The authority of the Justice was merely to hear the evidence and decide whether or not the accused should be held for trial In the Circuit Court The witnesses against Powell—Jess Owens, several neighbors, the purchaser from Sarvls Point, and Bess, his own daughter—were asked to rise and be sworn. Powell had no lawyer, no witnesses. He sat by a little table to the right of th* justice, leaning on his left elbow, his chin in his hand, his milky eyes on the floor. Bess sat down close beside him, and covertly sought his hand under the table. Her head was held high, and her wide-open brown ey4s searched th* courtroom. The State's attorney rose and started to outline the story of theft as It would be proved. First, he spoke of the positive evidence he would Introduce to prove the ownership of the hog. He had spoken only a few Words when he noticed he did not have the attention of the men In the courtroom. He paused, and turned to see what they were watching. The little girl had gripped th* edge of the table with both hands and was leaning forward, looking at him with surprise and wonder In her eyes, as if trying to understand what that &ad to do with It Th# young attorney, slightly annoy-

ed, lifted his voice to attract the attention of the court. “Your honor, Tuesday morning Jess Owens turned this hog out, and that vary evening Buck Powell stole Jt” There waa a slight, sudden movement at the table, a quick Intake jf breath. The girl was on her feet, pulling at her father’s arm. She was white, and her eyes were open wide with horror and fear,—“Papa, papa?" she whispered, and the room was stKl enough for all to hear. But Buck Powell did not look at his child; his head only dropped a little lower, and he shook Tl slowly. The child sank back In the chair, drew a long breath, and once more fixed her eyes on the attorney. “He killed and dressed the hog before daylight Wednesday morning,” the prosecutor resumed, "fixis we will prove by his own daughter.” “Oh!” It was a sudden little cry from the table. The girl's face was burning red and her breath came fast. The attorney then finished the outline of the things he would prove and sat down, ready for the first witness. For a moment the little girl looked round the courtroom, wonderingly, expectantly. and then at Billy Houck,

Justice of the peace. Were none of them going to speak for her father? A frightened look came Into her face, but she got to her feet, trembling all over. “He didn’t do It! He didn’t! He dldn’tl He didn’t steal any hog. It was this " “Just a minute, honey,” Billy Houck ■aid to her. kindly. “Wait Just a minute." Then turning to the attorney, he asked in an undertone, “Might as well use hep as the first witness, mightn’t you?’’ The prosecutor nodded consent "Take this chair, Bessie,” Billy said to her. “Now you are a witness, and remember, you have sworn to tell the truth.” The attorney started to question her, but the Justice raised his hand. her tell it in her own way, Jackson. Now, Bessie”—he turned his kind, understanding eyes upon her and smiled one of his infrequent smiles —“tell us what yoh know about It.” With the sure instinct of a child the little girl knew here was a friend, and she forgot the lawyer who had abused her father, forgot the crowd In the court-room, and told her story and vehemently to Billy Houck. “He didn’t steal any hog; you know my papa wouldn’t do that. He traded for it You see, it was like this: last year the river got up and washed all our crop away—every littlest bit of U —and—and”—she stopped to swallow —“I couldn’t go to school, because pa couldn’t get me any books and clothes.” Again she paused and quickly drew her hand across her eyes. "I wanted to go, but pa said he would get me books and dresses this year, and I could make up for lost time. "I Just thought of it all the time, and talked about it every day. And when the dry weather burned up the corn this summer, I was scared for fear I couldn’t go. But pa told nle not to cry; he'd get the books sure. “Then when it was nearly time for school to begin, I Was worried and cried and cried, because I didn’t think he could get them. “Then is when he made that trade. He traded Mr. Owens two of our hogs for one of hls, because ours weren’t fat and wouldn’t sell. He brought it home one evening and butchered it early the next morning, so that he could get an early start to tdwn. It was a fair, square trade, truly it was." she added! confidently, “for pa told me himself that Mr. Owens offered to swap first.” At the end of her story she stopped and looked found, suddenly frlghten-

ed by the court-room full of tens# listen rr« “And did he get the books?” Billy Houck asked. Her eyes lighted, her face glowed, unconsciously she clapped her hands lightly. “Oh, yes, be got all the books I need and two of the prettiest dresses you ever saw—one la pink arid the other Is bl*p, with little while dots in It." As the little girl left the chair, all eyes turned to the father. His head had sunk forward on the table, and his shoulders rose and fell. Bess stood at his side and patted his shoulder comfortingly. There was silence for nearly a minute, all wondering who was to apeak next. Jess Owens was the first to rise; and rough hill farmer that he was, he swallowed several times before he found his voice. “Billy”—he forgot he was In court—* “I reckon I ain’t got no stealin’ charges agin’ Buck. I’ll stand, by the trade like the little girl told about.” The young attorney started to speak, but Billy Houck motioned for him to keep his seat. “Case is dismissed. Court Is adJovlrned,” he said, briefly. The little girl ran to him, hope and doubt In her face. “Does that mean my pa Is free, and there isn’t anything more about It?" “Yes, honey,” said Billy, taking her hand, “it is all over. You run out Into the yard now and play a little while. I want to talk with your pa.’’ “Thank you!” she said; and Impulsively she put out her hand and pat--ted hla sleeve, j For half an hour Billy Houck sat by the table and talked with Buck Powell. When he came out, a group of men still lingered In the courthouse yard, discussing the case. “Well, Billy,” said Todd, as the Justice Joined them, “now that you’ve turned him loose, what are we goln’ to do with Buck?” Billy squinted his left eye thoughtfully. “Rent him a piece of land that he can make a living on, and treat him Ilk* a white man.” There was a moment of silence, broken by Windy Jim. “Yes, sir, I reckon if that runt could once Just get a start, that girl would raise him up and make a man of him yet.” "You bet!” assented Jess Owens, heartily. “I reckon,” said Billy, “I can furnish the land.” Just then Buck Powell came slowly out of the court-house, and stood near the door a moment, undecided. Then with a great effort he approached the group of men and held out his hand to Jess Owens timidly. Jess took It Instantly with a hearty grip as he said: “I reckon, Buck, If you want to put in some wheat this fall you can use that bay team of mine for a few weeks. I haven’t any use for them Just now.” Buck turned quickly away and drew his sleeve across his eyes. Bess, who had seen and heard, ran to her father quickly, put her hand through his arm, and said over her shoulder: “Thank you, -Mr. Owens, he’ll take It.”—Wo. y. Hamby in Louth's Companion.

“HE DIDN'T DO IT! HE DIDN'T! HE DIDN'T."