“Why have you dragged him here?” he demanded. “He’s only a kid, he should be in bed.”
Haw haw! A wave of scornful laughter filled the room.
The fox held up a restraining hand. “We know of no ‘Peewee’ here,” he said sternly. “We know only the frog. Speak, frog. Tell the warriors of the sacred Mingo tribe all you know.”
The frog talked fast, as if by rote. The prisoner, he said, had tried to do nasty things with the frog’s sister.
“What things?” demanded the fox.
The accusation was made: He had shown her dirty pictures at Three Corner Cove! He had corrupted an innocent girl.
Leo was speechless. They had put the words in Peewee’s mouth and got him to repeat them.
“Well, what have you to say for yourself?” Nananda the bear growled impatiently, stepping up to Leo. “Do you deny it?”
“I deny everything!”
“We knew you would. All right, the witness is excused. Now you can go to bed, froggy.”
Further mirth greeted this sally. The fox quickly squelched it.
There was still one who was missing from the stage as far as Leo could tell, an important player at that:. Reece. Where was Heartless? Taller and more formidable than all the rest, he should be a stand-out among the boys, yet he was nowhere discernible, not to Leo, not yet, anyway. As for the other Jeremians, though he could not pick them out in their disguises, he knew they must be there, all of them, come to have their revenge on Wacko Wackeem.
“You all have heard the first witness,” the fox went on, raising his voice for everyone to hear. “There are others. And evidence.”
Ahh, they said, evidence. What kind of evidence?
“It grows late. Let us proceed,” declared the fox. “You see before you the lowest type of criminal, brought here to our meeting place for trial and judgment. He had thought to be inducted into the Seneca Lodge this night – not knowing the Senecas would never have his kind. For we will prove how unworthy a brave this prisoner is. We will show him to be a liar and a cheat-”
“I am not!” shouted Leo, straining at his bonds, wishing he could free his hands. Tiger’s knife still sat on his hip; they hadn’t noticed it. If he could reach far enough, catch the hilt with his fingers, maybe… He worked the cords to stretch and loosen them.
“Aw, someone shut him up!” called one.
“Yeah, quit grousin’.”
“Snuff it, Wacko, or we’ll do it for you.”
The fox shook his rattle vigorously, commanding attention. “The prisoner has not been given leave to speak! He is therefore instructed to remain silent until the court advises him otherwise.” He addressed the prosecutor again. “Tell the court, what lies has the prisoner told?”
The bear was inclined toward obsequiousness. “If it please the court, not just one lie, but many. Many lies. And many are those who have heard him speak such lies.” “Make your accusations.”
The bear nodded gravely. The others shifted among their ranks; audible whispers of anticipation ran around the circle; the bear went on. “To begin with, he has made it known to everyone at camp that his father is dead.”
“And is this a misrepresentation of the facts?”
“Yes, Your Honor. His father’s as alive as anyone in this room.” At this disclosure exclamations of surprise erupted; heads bobbed and jockeyed for a better look at the accused. The blood had drained from Leo’s face and he could feel his body trembling.
In the “prosecutor’s” hand was a manila folder with a white tab. “It is the prisoner’s private file,” the bear went on, “loaned to us for these proceedings by Ma Starbuck.” Leo strained forward against the thongs. “I don’t believe you – Ma never would have! Somebody stole it!” “Silence!”
With grimy paws the bear opened the file. “Your Honor, I wish at this point to introduce as evidence the following documents.” He shuffled through and extracted certain items, which he identified in the same solemn tone:
“First, the standard registration forms of Camp Friend-Indeed. Second, copies of the records of the Pitt Institute for Boys, stating the truth beyond any shadow of a doubt. Third, a handwritten letter from one Miss – Miss” – he riffled his way to the end of the letter for the name – “Miss Elsie Meekum, a member of the orphanage staff. Will the court please allow these documents to be noted and entered as ‘Exhibits A, B, and C for the prosecution’?”
The fox looked the documents over with burlesque judiciousness. Leo watched mutely. He knew Ma: she would never have willingly surrendered her file, to anyone. But what did that matter? Now everyone in camp would know the truth about the butcher’s boy.
“Where is his father, then?”
The prosecutor turned to the prisoner for an answer. “Where is your father,” he demanded. “Speak!”
“He’s dead,” he said.
The prosecutor snorted and raised a scornful voice so all could hear. “Do you hear, men? He lies even to this court.”
Leo lifted his own voice to be heard over the other’s. “He is dead. He’s talking about my stepfather.”
“Listen, all of you,” came the bear’s voice, projecting so the sound carried among the trees. “He’s not dead, this father. His name is Rudy Matuchek, and he has drawn the sentence of twenty years imprisonment.”
At this news the band of watchers put their heads together and again jabbered among themselves.
Once more the judge raised a hand for silence and addressed the prosecutor.
“We are interested in your words. For what crime is this man in prison?”
“For the crime of murder!”
Murder! The word swept through the ranks. “It is a fact,” the prosecutor continued. “Here is the proof, in my hand.” Again he waved the documents. “Now ask me, for whose murder?”
“Yes, whose?” they demanded in unison, jostling one another in their eagerness to see and hear. Again the “judge” was forced to call for order.
“For the murder of his wife!” came the reply. “And his wife’s boyfriend.” Another eruption greeted this sensational revelation. The bear eagerly pressed his point. “Hear me, men. It’s all here in the file, every word.” He held up the folder.
The alligator had a further word to add. “His mother was a slut. She was having an affair with this other guy-” He would have gone on, but was silenced by the bear, who with obvious relish provided the details.
“The father was a butcher and he took his butcher knife and stabbed them both to death. He was convicted and sent to prison. That’s why the prisoner was sent to the orphanage. And before that he was in the nuthouse – the loony bin. It’s all here, anyone can read it!” He brandished the papers over his head while the commotion grew louder. Leo strained harder to free himself, his eyes wildly staring at his accuser, who just shook his head at him. “You see how it is – you think you can go around telling these lies-” “They’re not lies!” Leo shouted defiantly. “They’re not!”
“Are they the truth, then?”
“Not exactly, but-”
“Well, there you are! You’re a liar; and furthermore… ” the bear went on, ignoring Leo’s denial and taking up a position close to the fox. “Furthermore… I stand here before this tribunal to accuse the prisoner of being responsible for the death of Tiger Abernathy.” He raised his voice so it echoed off the cellar walls. “Like father, like son!”
Angry mutters ran about the circle. Leo stared at the bear-head. “That’s not true!”
“Silence!” the judge roared. “On what do you base this accusation?” he asked the prosecutor.
“It’s simple. The prisoner is a collector of spiders. One of these spiders was poisonous and it bit the deceased and gave him blood poisoning. If it weren’t for that, Tiger wouldn’t have died.”
Leo again protested. “The spider wasn’t poisonous and everybody knows it! Ten spiders like that one could have bit someone and they’d never have died. The bite became infected because-”
“Silence in the court! The prisoner has not been given leave to speak. Mr Prosecutor, you may continue.”