Chapter 4

You know how it is, once an 11 year old decides to do something, there's no holding him back. I'm afraid I pushed my horses pretty hard in getting to the town of Hobson and to the office of Jason McCall. No, I was not completely stupid, I rode up the alley behind his office and went in the back door. "Mr. McCall, it's Tom Olson. Can I talk to you?"

"Certainly, Tom. Come on in. First, let me say that I sure was sorry about what happened to your pa. But I hear that your ma and the rest of the family are doing right well. What can I do for you?"

"Thank you, Mr. McCall. And thanks for the word on my folks. I came to you first, because I don't want to cause them any trouble. You know that I am wanted by the federals for assault on a federal officer. I want to surrender and get that off my back. Will you take my case?"

"Of all the stupid nonsense I have heard, that takes the cake. Certainly, I will take your case. I had no idea that those fools had gone that far. Please give me a dollar to bind us together, and I will start right away to do what I can for you."

"That's fine with me. Here you are. Is it OK for me to visit my ma and the rest while I'm waiting for a trial?"

"I've got an idea. You go out to your farm and get John or Henry to ride with you to the marshal's office at the jail in Edgar Junction. You surrender to him, and either John or Henry, whichever one comes with you, will get credit for the reward. That will really stick it to those fools who put up the reward! Meanwhile, I'll talk to the marshal and tell him what's going on. He'll get a laugh out of it, and he can release you to stay on your farm until the trial, if you promise to do that."

"Oh, that's a bully idea! I love it! Sure, I promise to stay at the farm as long as you tell me to. How much is this going to cost me?"

"Right now, I have no idea. My bill will amount to $1, which you have already paid, but I may have to run up some expenses getting ready for the trial. I'll try to keep it down, though."

"Mr. McCall, Pa was sure right about you. I appreciate this, and I'll do whatever you say I should do."

"That's good. The federal judge for this district is a smart and fair man, so I know that you will get a fair trial. I'll send word if you need to come back to my office before the trial. So go on to see your family. Good luck and good day to you."

When I got home, everybody was glad to see me, of course, and I had a great time telling of my adventures in Mexico and NMT (New Mexico Territory). They were surprised at how much money there was to be made in bounty hunting if you went about it the right way. I could see the glow in Henry's eyes when he heard about it. We laughed and said that Henry should be the one who turned me in, so he could rightfully claim to be a successful bounty hunter.

The next day, Henry and I rode into Edgar Junction to visit the marshal. He fell out of his chair laughing when we told him why we were there. We went through all of the routine, including having me locked in a cell for a few minutes. I promised the marshal that I would stay at the farm until time for the trial, which should be about three weeks away.

I rode home by myself while Henry rode to the county seat to collect the reward. He was home by noon the next day, so we all had another good laugh while we set the $100 aside to be used to pay for anything we needed for my trial.

Three weeks later, word came from Mr. McCall for us to be at the county court house on Thursday for the trial. There were only two trials scheduled for that day, and mine was to be the first.

Ma and Martha put on their best Sunday-go-to-meeting dresses, and us boys dressed in our best clothes, too. The ladies rode in the buckboard and us boys rode horses. Nobody with good sense ever went anywhere without arming himself, so I was wearing my guns just like everybody else. I did take my guns off when we got to the courthouse, though. It just seemed like the polite thing to do.

We had dinner at the best (only) restaurant in town and hied ourselves to the courthouse for the trial. Mr. McCall met us at the door and waited while I handed my guns to Henry. We shook hands and went inside, with John helping Ma, as was suitable since he was the senior man of the family. I had the honor of escorting Martha, who looked like the brightest ray of sunshine in the whole county.

I got them seated on the front row of benches for the crowd, and I do mean crowd. There wasn't an empty seat by the time the judge was ready to start the trial. I was right proud to see how many supporters I had for the trial. The jury was selected without difficulty and I sat at a table with Mr. McCall.

The bailiff called the court to order and introduced the judge. We then went through some preliminaries, and the real trial finally started. The prosecutor, who looked kind of embarrassed by the whole silly thing, called up a couple of witnesses to describe the duel. The prosecutor helped by asking the right questions, and they laid it on pretty thick. By the time they finished, there was no doubt that I had abided by all of the rules and laws, so it was a legitimate duel which I had won.

However, that was not what the case was really about. There was no law against dueling with a federal officer, but there was a law against assaulting one. My accusation of him killing my pa was classed as an assault, as far as the law was concerned. Uh-oh, I might be guilty of that! Mr. McCall was very careful to establish the date of the killing, etc., then he played his bombshell. He called in the clerk who had made out the paperwork making Caleb Hopkins a federal officer and had him testify to the date the appointment was made. That date was two weeks after the duel. The judge slammed his gavel down and declared that the charges must be dropped against me. Nearly everybody in the court room stood up and cheered, including the prosecutor, the jury, and the bailiff!

The judge let the cheering run on for a couple of minutes before he started banging his gavel for order. The bailiff suddenly realized what was going on and helped to bring order. My back was really sore from all of the slaps of congratulations from my friends in the crowd. The judge declared a recess for 30 minutes, and he came down to shake my hand and to apologize for the travesty of justice this whole thing had been. Henry handed me back my guns, and I was soon properly dressed for all social occasions.

Several of Caleb Hopkins friends had attended the trial, but they stomped out once things calmed down a mite. We had decided that we needed a little more entertainment, so my family and I decided to stay for the other trial scheduled for that afternoon.

This trial was a little bit different from mine. The defendant was accused of stealing an Army payroll and murdering the clerk when he did it. This trial was pretty short, too. He was convicted of murder, which earned him nine years in the federal penitentiary, and he was convicted of payroll theft, which was good for 37 years in jail. The sentences were to run sequentially. Well, 48 years in jail was tantamount to a death sentence, just long and drawn out.

Nobody was surprised when the defendant started cursing the judge and the court, but we were all surprised when he grabbed the bailiff's gun and started shooting. He managed to kill the bailiff and give the judge a flesh wound before I was able to pull my crossdraw .44 and plug him in the right shoulder, smashing a lot of bone. He dropped the gun and collapsed on the floor. He now had his death sentence, since there was no way to treat that wound. I do want to say in my defense that I was delayed in drawing my pistol because I was leaning over in front of Ma to protect her from a stray bullet.