Brad was still standing, and again the judge ordered him to sit down.
Brad grudgingly obeyed, glowering at Jake, who deliberately refused to look at him, because he couldn’t hide the darkness he was feeling. The judge asked Peter if he had any questions.
Again Peter remained seated, glancing at Jake’s note. “Mr. Buckley, can you tell us what you did that caused Mr. Harkner to crack your breastbone with his rifle butt? Did he do it just to be mean, or did you instigate the matter?”
Brad glanced at the prosecutor. “Answer the question,” Prescott told him.
“Well, hell, the man came riding into Guthrie with my pa’s dead body draped over a horse. Naturally I was upset—real upset! Right then I hated Jake Harkner, so I called him out. I dared him to draw on me.”
“You actually were stupid enough to challenge Jake Harkner to a gunfight?” Peter asked. “Surely you knew you couldn’t possibly beat him.”
“He’s gettin’ old. I figured I could. But before I could draw on him, he swung his rifle around and slammed it against my face and then into my chest and sent me sprawlin’ against some barrels. And then he swung the rifle around again and held the end of it right against my ear and pulled the trigger. I was layin’ there in terrible pain from the gunshot so close to my ear, and I couldn’t breathe on account of he knocked the breath out of me. On top of that, he picked me up and threw me off the boardwalk and into the street.”
“And did he say anything about why he didn’t just shoot you?”
Brad hesitated.
“Mr. Buckley?”
Brad scowled. “He said as how I was young enough to be his son, and he didn’t like killin’ somebody so young, so he knocked the shit out of me instead.”
A few snickers could be heard in the crowd.
“So Jake Harkner had enough good conscience to not want to shoot someone so young, even though he could easily have done so, and had every right to do so, because you were going to draw on him, right?”
Brad pouted. “I reckon.”
“No more questions,” Peter said. Brad made ready to rise, but Peter spoke up again. “Oh, by the way, Mr. Buckley—how much do you weigh?”
Brad shrugged. “I’m not sure. Two hundred twenty-five, something like that.”
“And you’re quite a stocky, strong-looking young man. Yet this man was able to move fast enough to knock the air out of you and keep you from drawing on him, and then was strong enough to throw you into the street like a rag doll. That doesn’t sound like an old man to me.”
People chuckled.
“I’ve seen how Jake Harkner is built,” Gretta shouted from the balcony, “and he is definitely no old man!”
More laughter. The judge pounded his gavel and ordered Brad to leave the stand. “I think it’s best that you also leave the room,” the judge added. “You have obviously been planted here to get a rise out of Jake Harkner. And I would like to warn you that you are walking a thin line. One might be led to believe you were in on the shooting that took place—that you planned the whole thing along with Mike Holt.”
“I didn’t!” Brad objected, suddenly looking very worried. “I mean, Mike told me he wanted to kill Lloyd Harkner, but he never said when or how. I swear it!”
The judge studied him closely. “It sounds to me like you would be wise to stay completely away from Mr. Harkner while you’re here in Denver,” he told the young man.
“Your Honor,” Peter spoke up. “It might be best if Mr. Buckley was escorted completely out of Denver. Mr. Harkner has had his guns taken away from him, and his first thought is always for his family. I know he’s worried about what Brad Buckley might try, and it might be better if Mr. Harkner and his family didn’t have to worry about the man skulking around in the shadows.”
“You can’t order me around like that!” Brad protested.
“Yes, we can,” the judge told him. “I’m ordering that the bailiff go out and find a couple of policemen who will help you gather your things wherever you are staying, Mr. Buckley, and make sure you get on the next train out of Denver, either east or west, as long as you leave town.”
Brad looked ready to explode. He glanced at Jake. “Our time is comin’,” he sneered. “I know where to find you!”
“Mr. Buckley, you will leave this courtroom without another word or be arrested for contempt!” the judge shouted. “Bailiff, take that man out of here.”
Giving Jake one more scowl, Brad left. The judge looked at Prescott. “Do you have any more witnesses before you question Mr. Harkner?” he asked.