“Yes,” Dempster said. He squinted at Emma. “Excuse me, Mrs. Dawkins, but how do you know this? This just happened.”
“I seen the whole thing,” Timmy said.
“Saw,” Emma corrected.
“I saw it,” Timmy said.
“What did you see?” Dempster asked.
“I seen—uh, I saw—Deputy Gillis draw his gun first. Then the other man drew his gun faster, and he shot the deputy. I didn’t know he killed the deputy ’cause all I saw was Deputy Gillis turn around and walk back into the saloon.”
“You say you saw the deputy draw his gun first?”
“Yes, sir, I did.”
“That’s not possible,” Dempster said. “When Gillis came back into the saloon, his pistol was still in his holster.”
“He pulled his gun about halfway out. Then, when he got shot, it fell back in the holster, but he drew first,” Timmy said.
“Timmy, have you seen very many gunfights?”
“No, sir, I ain’t—uh, I haven’t ever seen any except this one.”
“Neither have I actually. But I’ve tried cases that had to do with gunfights, and the one thing all of them have in common is confusion. Two people can see the same thing but tell completely different stories, without either one of them lying.”
“How can they tell something different without one of them lying?” Timmy asked.
“Because it isn’t a lie if you believe what you are saying is the truth. Take your story, for example. I don’t believe you are lying. I think you really believe that you saw Deputy Gillis draw first. But a gunfight can be over in the wink of an eye. It could be that when Gillis saw this fella Jensen starting to draw, that he went for his own gun, but it was too late, the other fella had the drop on him. You might have seen Gillis starting his draw, but didn’t notice that the other man had already drawn his own gun.”
Timmy didn’t answer.
“Don’t you think it might have been that way?” he asked.
“No, sir, it wasn’t that way,” Timmy said. “I know what I saw. I saw the stranger, Mr. Jensen, come riding into town on a sorrel. He was a tall man, with broad shoulders and a wet hat.”
“A wet hat?”
“Yes, sir. He must’ve given his horse some water from a hat, because the hat was wet, and he took it off and hung it on his saddle. Then, Deputy Gillis came outside and they talked for a moment—but I don’t know what they were talking about. Then, Deputy Gillis started to draw his gun, but Mr. Jensen drew his gun, too, and he drew it faster than Deputy Gillis. When he shot Deputy Gillis, the deputy’s gun fell back into the holster, and he turned around and went back inside the saloon. That’s what I saw.”
Dempster stroked his chin. “Young man, that—that is a very detailed and descriptive observation. And it coincides almost exactly with the way he told it.”
“With the way who told it?” Emma asked.
“Matt Jensen. I defended him in the trial.”
“You mean, they’ve already had the trial?” Emma asked.
“Yes, ma’am, I’m afraid so. I sure wish you had come forward earlier. I could have used Timmy’s testimony then.”
“Maybe it isn’t too late,” Emma said. “Maybe you can go see Marshal Cummins and he’ll change his mind.”
“No. Cummins will not change his mind,” Dempster said.
“Come on, Timmy,” Emma said. “Mr. Dempster, I’m sorry we bothered you.”
“It’s not a bother, Mrs. Dawkins,” Dempster replied. “The boy was just doin’ what he thought was right, that’s all. And nobody can fault him for that.”
Dempster waited until Emma and Timmy left. Then he closed his office and hurried back down to the saloon. Since the trial, the saloon had returned to normal, and there were scores of people there, drinking and reliving the great drama of the trial so recently played out before them. Cummins was sitting at his usual table in the back of the room, and Dempster went straight to him.
“Well, the counselor is back,” Cummins said. He had a bottle of whiskey on the table and he poured some into a glass.
“Go ahead, drink up,” he said. “It’s your pay for defending an indigent client.”
“No, thanks,” Dempster said.
Cummins chuckled. “What? Bob Dempster is refusing a drink? Quick, someone, get hold of the publisher of the
“Robert Dempster, run-down has-been lawyer, refuses the offer of a drink!”
“Marshal, I think you ought not to be so quick about sending Jensen to Yuma,” Dempster said.
“Oh? And why is this?”
