Snake River Slaughter. William W. Johnstone

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Snake River Slaughter - William W. Johnstone Matt Jensen/The Last Mountain Man

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he said.

      “What?” Harry replied, surprised at being addressed by name. “Do you know us?”

      “No, but I know who you are. I was a good friend of the McDonalds,” Matt said.

      “We don’t know anyone named McDonald,” Harry said.

      “Sure you do,” Matt said. “You murdered them.”

      The two men leaped up then, jumping up so quickly that the chairs fell over behind them. Both of them started toward their guns, but when they saw how quickly Matt had his own pistol out, they stopped, then raised their hands.”

      “We ain’t drawin’, Mister. We ain’t drawin’!” Arnold said.

      When Matt returned to Green River, Harry and Arnold were riding in front of him. Each man had his hands in iron shackles, and there was a rope stretching from Harry’s neck to Arnold’s neck, then from Arnold’s neck to the saddle horn of Matt’s saddle. This was to discourage either, or both, from trying to bolt away during the return journey.

      Chapter Two

      Within a week of their capture, the two brothers were put on trial in the Sweetwater County Courthouse. Although seats were dear to come by, Sheriff Foley had held a place for Matt so he was able to move through the crowd of people who were searching for their own place to sit. Rather than being resentful of him, however, those in the crowd applauded when Matt came in. They were aware of the role Matt had played in bringing the Baker brothers to trial.

      Matt had been in his seat for little more than a minute when the bailiff came through a little door at the front of the courtroom. Clearing his voice, the bailiff addressed the gallery.

      “Oyez, oyez, oyez, this court of Sweetwater County, Green River City, Wyoming, will now come to order, the Honorable Judge Daniel Norton presiding. All rise.”

      As Judge Norton came into the courtroom and stepped up to the bench, Matt Jensen stood with the others.

      “Be seated,” Judge Norton said. “Bailiff, call the first case.”

      “There’s only one case, Your Honor. There comes now before this court Harry G. Baker and Arnold S. Baker, both men having been indicted for the crime of murder in the first degree.”

      “Thank you, Bailiff. Are the defendants represented by council?”

      The defense attorney stood. “I am Robert Dempster, Your Honor, duly certified before the bar and appointed by the court to defend the misters Baker.”

      “Is prosecution present?”

      The prosecutor stood. “I am Edmund Gleason, Your Honor, duly certified before the bar and appointed by the court to prosecute.”

      “Let the record show that the people are represented by a duly certified prosecutor and the defendants are represented by a duly certified counsel,” Judge Norton said.

      “Your Honor, if it please the court,” Dempster said, standing quickly.

      “Yes, Mr. Dempster, what is it?”

      “Your Honor, I object to the fact that we are trying both defendants at the same time, and I request separate trials.”

      “Mr. Dempster, both men are being accused of the same crime, which was committed at the same time. It seems only practical to try them both at the same time. Request denied.”

      Dempster sat down without further protest.

      “Mr. Prosecutor, are you ready to proceed?”

      “I am ready, Your Honor.”

      “Very good. Then, please make your case,” Judge Norton said.

      “Thank you, Your Honor,” Gleason said as he stood to make his opening remarks.

      Gleason pointed out that the letters BAK, written in the murder victim’s own blood, were damning enough testimony alone to convict. But he also promised to call witnesses, which he did after the opening remarks. He called Mr. Jules Pratt.

      “Mr. Pratt, were you present at the McDonald Ranch on the day of the murder?” Gleason asked.

      “Yes,” Jules replied. “My wife and I were both there.”

      “Why were you there?”

      “We went to see the McDonalds to solicit a donation for the church organ.”

      “Did they donate?”

      “Yes, they did. Very generously.”

      “By bank draft, or by cash?”

      “By cash.”

      “Where did they get the cash?”

      “From a cash box they kept in the house.”

      “Was there any money remaining in the cash box after the donation?”

      “Yes, a considerable amount.”

      “How much would you guess?”

      “Two, maybe three hundred dollars.”

      “Was anyone else present at the time?”

      “Yes.”

      “Who?”

      Jules pointed. “Those two men were present. They were doing some work for Scott.”

      “Let the record show that the witness pointed to Harry and Arnold Baker. Was it your observation, Mr. Pratt, that the two defendants saw the cash box and the amount of money remaining?”

      “Yes, sir, I know they did.”

      “How do you know?”

      “Because that one,” he pointed.

      “The witness has pointed to Arnold Baker,” Gleason said.

      “That one said to Scott, ‘That’s a lot of money to keep in the house.’”

      “Thank you, Mr. Pratt, no further questions.”

      Gleason also called Pastor Martin who, with four of his parishioners, testified as to how they had discovered the bodies when they visited the ranch later the same day. Then, less than one-half hour after court was called to order, prosecution rested its case.

      The defense had a witness as well, a man named Jerome Kelly, who claimed that he had come by the McDonald ranch just before noon, and that when he left, the Bakers left with him.

      “And, when you left, what was the condition of the McDonald family?” the defense attorney asked.

      “They was all still alive. Fac’ is, Miz McDonald was bakin’ a pie,” Kelly said.

      “Thank you,”

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