he did,” Falcon replied.
“And your initial response, even before the two deceased fired at you, was to prevent them from shooting at the driver, the guard, or both?”
“It was.”
“Thank you. No further questions, Your Honor.”
“The witness may step down.”
Gilmore called Garon to the witness stand. Garon was sworn in; then Gilmore approached him.
“Mr. Garon, on the first of this month, did you, Andy Parker, and Poke Waggoner confront the Pagosa Springs coach on the Pagosa Springs road?”
“Yeah, we did,” Garon replied.
“Was it your intention to rob the coach?”
“No, we wasn’t goin’ to rob it.”
“What was your intention?”
“We was needin’ a ride, that’s all.”
“But there was gunplay, was there not?”
“Yeah, well, this MacCallister fella come up behind us with his gun drawn, and the next thing you know, he shot and killed Andy and Poke.”
“Did Andy and Poke shoot at MacCallister?”
“Yeah, but what I think they done was shoot back at him. Only, not bein’ professional gunmen like MacCallister is—”
“Objection, Your Honor, to the defendant referring to Falcon MacCallister as a professional gunfighter,” Kincaid called.
“Your Honor, may I respond?” Gilmore said. He returned to the defendant’s desk and picked up three paperbound novels. “I hold in my hand the book Falcon MacCallister at Shoot Out Canyon. Also, Falcon MacCallister, Gunfighter for Justice, and finally, Falcon MacCallister and the Fast Draw Kid. All three of these books refer to Falcon MacCallister as a professional gunman.”
“They are novels, Your Honor,” Kincaid said.
“But they are all about Falcon MacCallister, who is a real person.”
“Objection overruled,” Judge Hawkins said. “Reference to Mr. MacCallister as a professional gunfighter may stand.”
“You may continue with your statement, Mr. Garon.”
“I lost my place,” Garon said.
“Would the court reporter please read back Mr. Garon’s last words?” Gilmore asked.
Clearing his throat, the court reporter began to read. “Mr. Kincaid: ‘Did Andy and Poke shoot at MacCallister?’
“Mr. Garon: ‘Yeah, but what I think they done was shoot back at him. Only, not being professional gunmen like MacCallister is—’” The reporter looked up. “That is as far as he got before the objection.”
“Would you please finish your statement, Mr. Garon?”
“Yeah, I was goin’ to say that not being professional gunmen, when they shot back at MacCallister they missed. MacCallister didn’t miss, and he killed Mr. Parker an Mr. Waggoner,” Garon said.
“Thank you, no further questions.”
Despite Kincaid’s best efforts, he was unable to break Garon’s insistence that he, Parker, and Waggoner had only intended to flag down the coach in order to ask for a ride.
Closing arguments for both attorneys did little more than reiterate the arguments they had already presented. After that, the jury was dismissed so they could return with a verdict.
Deliberation took less than half an hour, then the jury returned.
“Gentlemen of the jury, have you selected a foreman?” Judge Hawkins asked.
“We have, Your Honor,” someone said.
“And who is the foreman?”
“I am, Your Honor.”
“And you would be?”
“My name is Harris, Your Honor. Clete Harris.”
“Mr. Harris, has the jury reached a verdict?”
“We have, Your Honor.”
“Publish the verdict, please.”
“Your Honor, on the felony count of attempted robbery, we find the defendant, Jim Garon, not guilty.”
“What?” Ben Carney shouted out loud. “There’s no way that son of a bitch isn’t guilty!”
The shotgun guard wasn’t the only one to react in such a way. Several others shouted out in protest as well, including Arnie Sessions.
“This ain’t right!” the coach driver said.
Judge Hawkins banged his gavel on the desk, and had to do it over and over, shouting, “Order in the court! Order in the court.” It took several calls before order was restored. The judge looked back over at the jury foreman. “I must say, Mr. Harris, I find your verdict astounding.”
“There is more, Your Honor,” Harris said.
“All right, let me hear what else you have to say.
“We have lowered the charge of attempted robbery to the misdemeanor count of interfering with the transit of a public stagecoach. And on that charge and specification, we find the defendant guilty.”
“Misdemeanor?” Judge Hawkins questioned. “You have taken it upon yourself to lower the charge to a misdemeanor?”
“We were led to understand that if we could not find the defendant guilty on the felony charge, that we could lower the charge to a misdemeanor,” Harris said.
“Yes, it is within your authority to do so,” Judge Hawkins agreed.
“Very good, Your Honor, because that is exactly what we have done. Since the defendant did not discharge his weapon during the incident, and those who did discharge their weapon are now dead, the jury can find no cause for a felony charge.”
“You do realize, don’t you, that the maximum punishment I can assess for the misdemeanor charge is one hundred and eighty days?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
Judge Hawkins let out a long audible sigh, then ran his hand across the top of his bald head.
“Very well, Mr. Foreman, you may sit down. Sheriff, if you would, please, bring the defendant before the bench.”
The sheriff walked over to the defendant’s table and signaled for Garon to stand. He then walked with him to appear before the bench.
“James A.
