but he finally says to Pete he can
go free, anyway, now, for being such an honest jailbird; and old Sing
Wah can go, too, having been punished enough by Pete's handling. Sing
Wah slides out quickly enough at this, promising to send Myron a dozen
silk handkerchiefs and a pound of tea. But not Pete. No, sir! He tells
Myron he's give himself up to be tried, and he wants that trial and
won't budge till he gets it.

"Then Myron telephoned for the judge and the district attorney, and for
me. We get there and tell Pete to beat it quick. But the old mule isn't
going to move one step without that trial. He's fled back to his cell
and stands there as dignified as if he was going to lay a cornerstone.
He's a grave rebuke to the whole situation, as you might say. Then the
Judge and Cale go through some kind of a hocus-pocus talk, winding up
with both of them saying 'Not guilty!' in a loud voice; and Myron says
to Pete: 'There! You had your trial; now get out of my jail this
minute.'

"But canny old Pete is still balking. He says you can't have a trial
except in the courthouse, which is upstairs, and they're trying to cheat
a poor old Injin. He's talking loud by this time, and Judge Ballard
says, all right, they must humour the poor child of Nature. So Myron
takes Pete by the wrist in a firm manner--though Pete's insisting he
ought to have the silver handcuffs on him--and marches him out the jail
door, round to the front marble steps of the new courthouse, up the
steps, down the marble hall and into the courtroom, with the judge and
Cale Jordan and me marching behind.

"We ain't the whole procession, either. Out in front of the jail was
about fifteen of Pete's friends and relatives, male and female, that had
been hanging round for two days waiting to attend his coming-out party.
Mebbe that's why Pete had been so strong for the real courthouse,
wanting to give these friends something swell for their trouble. Anyway,
these Injins fall in behind us when we come out and march up into the
courtroom, where they set down in great ecstasy. Every last one of 'em
has a sack of peppermint candy and a bag of popcorn or peanuts, and
they all begin to eat busily. The steam heat had been turned on and that
hall of justice in three minutes smelt like a cheap orphan asylum on
Christmas-morning.

"Then, before they can put up another bluff at giving Pete his trial,
with Judge Ballard setting up in his chair with his specs on and looking
fierce,