T
HE JUDGE SAT ON the upraised dais. He stared down at the three men on trial for attempted robbery. “Mr. Prosecutor, call your first witness.” A spindly man rose to his feet. He removed his spectacles and glanced toward the witnesses. “I call Curly Burleson to the stand.” A tall cowboy rose to his feet amd ran his hand through his sandy-colored hair as he approached the witness chair. He stood awkwardly before the judge. “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, as God is your witness?” “Yes, sir,” Curly gulped. “Mr. Burleson, you’re in the employ of Gus Kerch of the Kerch Ranch?” The spindly man hooked his fingers in his fancy vest. “Yes, sir, Bob, I’m one of the cowboys he keeps on the payroll.” “Can you recount the events that occurred two weeks ago?” Bob asked. “What’s recount mean?” He turned toward the judge. “Can you remember what happen two weeks ago?” the judge mumbled.
“Yes, sir. Me and Pete and Jolly was out on the north range for Miss Hannah.” Curly’s face reddened. “She told us to take the turd wagon up there and get her a load of manure.” A chorus of laughter rose from the crowd packed into the tiny courtroom. “Objection, Your Honor, what kind of wagon did the witness take to the north range?” The defense attorney jumped to his feet. “Objection overruled, Roscoe. It’s a turd wagon. I don’t think a detailed description is necessary.” This led to another round of bawdy laughter. “Curly, is this part of your normal routine?” Bob asked. “No, sir.” Curly shook his head. “Miss Hannah sent us up there special. She needed some fresh manure for her spring garden, and she said the turds on the north range was the best she ever used.” The entire gallery roared with laughter. “Order, order in the court.” The judge banged his gavel on the podium. “Everybody needs to be quiet or I’ll clear this courtroom.” The court room gradually grew silent.
