Verdict Overturned
By Yankee01754
The last days of September, and early days of October 1870 were dark ones for Jess Harper and Slim Sherman. Jess' old friend, John MacLean, searching for the man that had stolen his horse and left him a lame one, had been hunted down by an illegally authorized posse. Intent on "justice" for Doctor Webb and the sheriff of Laramie; These men had planned on hanging Mac without benefit of a trial.
On circumstantial evidence alone, Mac had been tried, convicted and then, as Slim lay unconscious on the floor of his house, taken out to a tree by the barn and hanged. Jess found Slim, in the kitchen, tending to a head wound. Slim had told him there wasn't anything he could do for him and Jess had taken off for town to confront the "posse" in the saloon.
It hadn't been easy to talk Jess into letting the circuit judge and a legitimate jury try them for murder. Jess was mad enough to spit nails, chew the posse - and judge up - and spit them out. Slim had felt the tension in his friend's body when he laid a gentle hand on his shoulder to try and calm him down. Jess had been so furious he'd practically had tears streaming down his face
The trial didn't help. Though the jury had found the men guilty of homicide, they had recommended leniency believing the men had acted without criminal malice. Jess was incensed. Slim wasn't happy about it but he knew there wasn't anything to be done - or so he thought.
Jess, furious at the lack of true justice, had stormed off the relay station after slugging Slim. By the time Slim caught up with him, at Judge Hedrick's ranch, the judge was dead by his own hand. Jess startled Slim when he came into the front room from the back of the house but they soon calmed down and holstered their guns.
Jess handed Slim the note he'd found on the floor, crumpled up. It would soon be obvious - to most men anyway - what had happened.
The note read:
Dear Jim,
I defended you in court today, you and the others, but I could not defend myself. As a judge there was no defense for my part in the crime we committed. Living as I have always lived, there is only one possible verdict for me. I know it is going to be hard for you to accept this admission of guilt on my part, just as it would be hard for you to understand that neither Sherman nor Harper nor anyone else is to blame for what I now must do. By the time you find this, I will have carried out the only justice that is left for me. May God bless you and help you become a better man than your father.
As Slim finished reading the note, Jim Hedrick, who had been trying to descend the stairs quietly, opened fire on the two partners. He missed but they didn't. Jim Hedrick was dead - just as his father was.
When they had calmed down, Slim asked his partner, "Do you want to ride into town and tell our temporary lawman what happened or do you want me to?"
"I'll go," the Texan said. "I can't stomach being around the Hedricks any more - even if they are dead."
The tall blond rancher patted his friend on the shoulder. Jess had suffered greatly these last few weeks because of the Hedricks and the judge's illegally appointed posse. It was probably better for him to get out of there before he lost control and did something he shouldn't - like maybe setting fire to the place. Jess didn't always think straight when he was upset. For that matter, Sherman wasn't so sure he wouldn't like to set fire to the place himself. What held him back was the judge's reputation as a judge.
Despite his harsh nickname - Hangman Hedrick - the one Jess had invoked during the confrontation with the "posse", he had been a good judge. A bit overzealous perhaps, but a good one all the same. Honest anyway. That was more than you could say for some judges.
Jess went out the door. It was a warm enough night but the wind was still whipping around like maybe it was going to storm before long. He shuddered. He didn't have his slicker handy. It was rolled up in his bedroll and, if it did start raining before he got to town he was going to get soaked before he could get it out.
He thought about this for a minute and then realized that Slim didn't have his either. The image that came to mind, of a soaking wet, and mad as a wet hen Slim, made him grin for just a minute. He quickly mounted Drifter, now, and headed off toward Laramie. It was time to get the acting sheriff and bring him up to date. He knew Slim wouldn't mess up the scene but he also knew he wouldn't be comfortable waiting for very long with two dead men in the house. He wasn't squeamish but, still, it wasn't a fun thing even for a man who'd seen fellow soldiers die in battle. A suicide and a man killed in self defense could make one uneasy.
Within a couple of hours the acting sheriff had been to Judge Hedrick's place, taken Slim and Jess' statements and arranged for the undertaker to pick up the bodies. There was no need for investigation - the judge's note said it all. Anybody who knew them knew that Jim Hedrick would never have allowed his father's note to be seen - that's why Jess had come to find it crumpled up on the floor. Jim had read it and threw it away. His father was not going to be known as a suicide nor was the knowledge that he admitted they'd acted wrongly in trying, convicting and hanging John McLean. Better to let them think somebody had broken into the house. Better yet let Jess Harper take the blame. He'd been mad enough to kill when he confronted them all in the saloon.