The Trial of Doc

To say that I'm tired is and understatement. I'm not only tired but hungry, thirsty and chilled to the bone, as well. Oh! And did I mention that my feet hurt? My shoes have holes in the soles and with every step I take, they pinched. Where am I going, you might ask? Well, it would be better to tell you where I'm coming from, first. You might find this a bit interesting, or, yes, even a bit exciting. Drum roll please... ta daa.... I'm coming from Mr. Browning's Brewery. And behold! I have eight bottles of the finest brew in the land on my person. Five bottles in my sack, one in each of my coat pockets and the one that I carry in my hand. Now, to tell you where I'm going. I'm going to a party of sorts. Not one of those good parties, one where there is a trail of sorts first, and then a flogging or hanging or maybe even a stoning. I don't mean to be so lighthearted about some else's ill fate but, Doc deserves it. He deserves all three but the outcome depends on how drunk we can get the judge tonight and that's where I come in. Mr. Browning, the proprietor of Browning's Brewery had sent me to fetch to the bottles. Just about a mile and a half to go. But wait, what are those torch light headed this way? Could they be looking for me? I know that it's been three hours but they know that I don't have no horse and nobody would lend me one either. Oh, by the way, let me introduce myself. I'm Dogan. and I am Mr. Browning's assistant.

As the torch lights grew closer I could see that most of the men were there looking through every bush and behind every rock. Now they had came through the bushes and reached the road. They told me to identify myself as soon as they saw me on the road pointing their guns in my direction. I call out to them that it was me, Dogan. It turns out that the judge had had a heart attack and died while he was eating a piece of roast pig while they were waiting on me. Doc acted like he was asleep and somehow got loose and escaped. Now, they were all out searching for him. What should I do now, I wondered. I talked to Mr. Browning and he suggested that I join the search. We can't let a criminal run loose. I agreed and handed the bottle in my hand to Mr. Browning as he looked thirsty. Thank ye, Kid was his response and he call the other men over and instructed me to take out the other bottles and let the men drink up the brew. I left one bottle in my pocket that I was reserving for myself. I didn't drink with the men as I knew that I should be cautious and alert. After the brew was gone the men decided to split up and pair up to continue their search. Mr. Browning wanted me with him. About thirty minutes into the search a loud gun shot rang out and we headed in the direction the sound came from. When we got to the clearing we were to discover that we were the last to arrive and Doc had overpowered one of the Hadley twins, either Lonnie or Donnie. He had a gun to his head and had demanded that everybody else lay down their guns. Mr. Browning complied as well and added his gun to the pile.

As Doc was now in charge he told us all to sit down as he would tell us a story. he began by telling us about a warm moonlit summer night and what he had witnessed on the Rigsby Farm in the hay loft where the old barn owl lives...