In Thomas’s closing, he pointed out that there were enough eyewitnesses who heard the shots, saw the robbers leave the bank, then saw one of the robbers unhorsed—the unhorsed rider being Parnell—that there could be no doubt of his guilt.
“As to who actually fired the shots that took the lives of Mr. Walker, Mr. Jones, and Mr. Teasdale? That is immaterial. The law clearly states that if someone dies as the result of a felony in which you are participating, you are guilty of murder. It does not matter whether you are the one who pulled the trigger or not.”
The trial took less than an hour. The jury’s deliberation lasted only fifteen minutes. At five minutes after eleven o’clock in the morning, the jury sent word they had reached a verdict, thus causing court to be reconvened—meaning court was called to order again, as no one had left the saloon.
When the jury filed back in, Judge Norton adjusted the glasses on the end of his nose, then cleared his throat. “Would the foreman of the jury please stand?”
Mr. White, the druggist, stood.
“Mr. Foreman, I have been informed that the jury has reached a verdict. Is that true?”
“It is true, Your Honor.”
“Would you publish the verdict, please?”
White looked confused. “Publish, Judge?”
“Tell the court the verdict,” Judge Norton explained.
“Oh, yeah. Uh, I mean, yes sir. We the jury find the defendant guilty of bank robbery and guilty of murder in the first degree.”
“Thank you, Mr. Foreman and gentlemen of the jury. This jury is dismissed, though you may remain in place during the sentencing phase.”
Mr. White sat back down.
“Would the bailiff please bring the prisoner before the bench?”
Sheriff Dennis, who had been leaning against the piano with his arms folded across his chest, spit a quid of tobacco into the brass spittoon, then walked over to Parnell. “Get up. Present yourself before the judge.”
Parnell was not only handcuffed, his legs were shackled together. With the assistance of the deputy sheriff and Mr. Gilman, Parnell stood, then shuffled over to stand in front of the judge.
Judge Norton took off his glasses and polished them as he studied the prisoner standing before him. Finally he put them back on and stared pointedly at Parnell.
“Cole Parnell, you have been tried before a jury of your peers and found guilty. Before this court passes sentence, have you anything to say?”
“Yes, Your Honor. I admit I was one of the men who robbed the bank, but I wasn’t the one who shot them three men. If you want to know who it was that done that, it was Wes Harley. Wes Harley did the shootin’, and that is a fact.”
The gallery reacted to that, for it was the first time Wes Harley’s name had been mentioned.
“Wes Harley! He was here?” someone asked.
“Wes Harley, in our town.”
“I never thought Wes Harley would do a thing like that.”
Judge Norton pounded his gavel. “Order! I will have order now, or I will empty this courtroom.”
The gallery grew quiet.
Norton glared at Parnell. “Mr. Parnell, by your admission to being one of the robbers, you have just confirmed the jury’s finding. For as Mr. Thomas pointed out, your very participation in the crime, during which someone was killed, makes you guilty of murder, whether you did the actual killing or not.”
“I didn’t know there was any such law,” Parnell said.
“Ignorance of the law does not excuse you from its consequences. Cole Parnell, there are three families in this town who are, today, without the family head. Husbands and fathers, Thaddeus Walker, Raleigh Jones, and Emerson Teasdale leave a hole in our community and especially in their families, that cannot be filled because of the most evil deed performed by you and your cohorts in this dastardly crime. Therefore, Mr. Parnell, it is the sentence of this court that you be taken from this place and put in jail long enough to await your execution. At a time to be fixed by the sheriff, you are to be taken from jail and transported to a place where you will be hanged.”
After leaving Elco, Smoke rode to Pittsburg, where he sent a telegram to Big Rock to check on Sally. He figured it would take at least an hour and a half to get a response. Kyle would have to deliver the telegram to Sugarloaf, then ride back with the answer. He had a leisurely lunch in the cafe, then walked back to the telegraph office.
“Yes, sir, Deputy,” the telegrapher said when he saw Smoke come in. “I’ve got your message right here.”
Anxiously, Smoke opened the envelope to read the message, then he laughed out loud.
I WANT YOU TO FIRE BOTH PEARLIE AND CAL THEY WON’T LET ME DO A THING I TRIED TO BRIBE THEM BY TELLING THEM I WOULD BAKE SOME BEAR SIGNS FOR THEM BUT EVEN THAT DIDN’T WORK BE CAREFUL AND COME HOME SOON
I LOVE YOU
SALLY
Picking up a pencil and a form, Smoke wrote out the telegram he wanted to send back to Sally.
I HAVE NO INTENTION OF FIRING PEARLIE OR CAL IN FACT I AM GOING TO GIVE BOTH OF THEM A BONUS THEY ARE DOING EXACTLY AS I ASKED THEM TO DO
I LOVE YOU TOO
SMOKE
While Smoke was reading his telegram, and writing his response, a new telegram came in. The telegrapher, his green visor in place, sat at the desk of the machine, writing quickly.
