“I'll try to remember that,” said Measure.
Monday morning behind the smithy, everyone was gathered by ten o'clock; but from dawn onward, heavily armed deputies were on guard all around the site. The judge arranged things so the whole jury could see, as well as Marty Laws, Verily Cooper, Alvin Smith, Makepeace Smith, and Hank Dowser. “This court is now in session,” said the judge loudly. “Now, Hank Dowser, you show us the exact place you marked.”
Verily Cooper spoke up. “How do we know he'll mark the same place?”
“Cause I'll dowse it again,” said Hank Dowser, “and the same spot will still be best.”
Alvin spoke up then. “There's water everywhere here. There's not a place you can pick where there won't be water if you just go far enough down.”
Hank Dowser whirled on him and glared. “There it is! He's got no respect for any man's knack except his own! You think I don't know there's water most everywhere? The question is, is the water pure? Is it close to the surface? That's what I find– the easy dig, the clean water. And I'll tell you, by the use of hickory and willow wands, that the water is purest here, and closest to the surface here, and so I mark this spot, as I would have more'n a year ago! Tell me, Alvin Journeyman, if you're so clever, is this or is it not the same spot I marked, exactly?”
“It is,” said Alvin, sounding a little abashed. “And I didn't mean to imply that you weren't a real dowser, sir.”
“You didn't exactly mean not to imply it either, though, did you!”
“I'm sorry,” said Alvin. “The water is purest here, and closest to the surface, and you truly found it twice the same, the exact spot.”
The judge intervened. “So after this unconventional courtroom exchange, which seems appropriate to this unconventional courtroom, you both agree that this is the spot where Alvin says he dug the first well and found nothing but solid impenetrable stone, and where it is Makepeace's contention that there was no such stone, but rather a buried treasure which Alvin stole and converted to his own use while telling a tale of turning iron into gold.”
“For all we know he hid my iron underground here!” cried Makepeace.
The judge sighed. “Makepeace, please, don't make me send you to jail again.”
“Sorry,” muttered Makepeace.
The judge beckoned to the team of workingmen he'd arranged to come do the digging. Paying them would come out of the county budget, but with four diggers it couldn't take long to prove one or the other right.
They dug and dug, the dirt flying. But it was a dryish dirt, a little moist from the last rain which was only a week ago, but no hint of a watery layer. And then: chink.
“The treasure box!” cried Makepeace.
A few moments later, after scraping and prying, the foreman of the diggers called out, “Solid stone, your honor! Far as we can reach. Not no boulder, neither– feels like bedrock if'n I ever saw it.”
Hank Dowser's face went scarlet. He muscled his way to the hole and slid down the steep side. With his own handkerchief he brushed away the soil from the stone. After a few minutes of examination, he stood up. “Your Honor, I apologize to Mr. Smith, as graciously, I hope, as he just apologized to me a moment ago. Not only is this bedrock– which I did not see, for I have never found such a sheet of water under solid stone like this– but also I can see old scrape marks against the stone, proving to me that the prentice boy did dig in this spot, just as he said he did, and reached stone, just as he said he did.”
“That don't prove he didn't find gold along the way!” cried Makepeace.
“Summations to the jury!” the judge called out.
“In every particular that we could test,” said Verily Cooper, “Alvin Smith has proven himself to be truthful and reliable. And all the county has to assail him is the unproven and unprovable speculations of a man whose primary motive seems to be to get his hands upon gold. There are no witnesses but Alvin himself of how the gold came to be shaped like a plow, or the plow came to be made of gold. But we have eight witnesses, not to mention His Honor, myself, and my respected colleague, not to mention Alvin himself, all swearing to you that this plow is not just gold, but also alive. What possible property interest can Makepeace Smith have in an object which clearly belongs to itself and only keeps company with Alvin Smith for its own protection? You have more than a reasonable doubt– you have a certainty that my client is an honest man who has committed no crime, and that the plow should stay with him.”
It was Marty Laws' turn then. He looked like he'd had sour milk for breakfast. “You've heard the witnesses, you've seen the evidence, you're all wise men and you can figure this out just fine without my help,” said Laws. “May God bless your deliberations.”
“Is that your summing up?” demanded Makepeace. “Is that how you administer justice in this county? I'll support your opponent in the next local election, Marty Laws! I swear you haven't heard the end of this!”
“Sheriff, kindly arrest Mr. Makepeace Smith again, three days this time, contempt of court and I'll consider a charge of attempted interference with the course of justice by offering a threat to a sitting judge in order to influence the outcome of a case.”
“You're all ganging up against me! All of you are in this together! What did he do, Your Honor, bribe you? Offer to share some of that gold with you?”
“Quickly, Sheriff Doggly,” said the judge, “before I get angry with the man.”
When Makepeace's shouting had died down enough to proceed, the judge asked the jury, “Do we need to traipse on back to the courtroom for hours of deliberation? Or should we just stand back and let you work things out right here?”
The foreman whispered to his fellow jurors; they whispered back. “We have a unanimous verdict, Your Honor.”
“What say you, etcetera etcetera?”
“Not guilty of all charges,” said the foreman.
“We're done. I commend both attorneys for fine work in a difficult case. And to the jury, my commendation for cutting through the horse pucky and seeing the truth. Good citizens all. This court stands adjourned until the next time somebody brings a blame fool charge against an innocent man, at least that's what I'm betting on.” The judge looked around at the people, who were still standing there. “Alvin, you're free to go,” he said. “Let's all go home.”
Of course they didn't all go; nor, strictly speaking, was Alvin free. Right now, surrounded by a crowd and with a dozen deputies on guard, he was safe enough. But as he gripped the sack with the plow inside, he could almost feel the covetings of other men directed toward that plow, that warm and trembling gold.
He wasn't thinking of that, however. He was looking over at Margaret Larner, whose arm was around young Ramona's waist. Someone was speaking to Alvin-it was Verily Cooper, he realized, congratulating him or something, but Verily would understand. Alvin put a hand on Verily's shoulder, to let him know that he was a good friend even though Alvin was about to walk away from him. And Alvin headed on over to Miss Larner and Ramona.
At the last moment he got shy, and though he had his eyes on Margaret all the way through the crowd, it was Ramona he spoke to when he got there. “Miss Ramona, it was brave of you to come forward, and honest too.” He shook her hand.
Ramona beamed, but she was also alittle upset and nervous. “That whole thing with Amy was my fault I think. She was telling me those tales about you, and I was doubting her, which only made her insist more and more. And she stuck to it so much that for a while I believed maybe it was true and that's when I told my folks and that's what started all the rumors going, but then when she went with Thatch under the freak show tent and she comes out pregnant but babbling about how it was you got her that way, well, I had my chance then to set things straight, didn't I? And then I didn't get to testify!”