Law of the Gun. Martin H. Greenberg

a survivor, a champion of the weak, an angel of mercy.”

      Gerber clasped his hands on the rail of the jury box. “God placed Lucinda Messenger in harm’s way to help those in need. Who was she to question that calling? Could any one of you have left a child to the devices of a barbarian hiding behind the Word of God? You could not. There is a greater justice in having saved that child.

      “Does any among you condemn her for defending herself against a husband so cold-blooded that he would throw her into the viper’s pit?

      “Those nightmarish events gave her the strength not to be a victim when she was brutally attacked by Asa Calloway.”

      The jurors deliberated for only twenty minutes.

      Judge Mortal D. Stanton brought down the gavel with vigor.

      The foreman of the jury handed a folded slip of paper to the bailiff, who in turn handed it to the judge.

      Stanton opened and read the slip. “Will the defendant rise?”

      Lucinda Messenger and her attorney stood.

      “Gentlemen of the jury, what say you?”

      The foreman rose. “Your Honor, in the matter of the territory versus Mrs. Lucinda Messenger, we find the defendant not guilty.”

      The crowd whooped. The women sprang to their feet and applauded (save Kathleen Calloway, who fought her way through the press of people and out of the courtroom).

      Judge Stanton said, “Mrs. Messenger, you’re free to go. Court dismissed.” One more strike of the gavel, and he was gone. Many years later, long after he had forgotten about clocks and trains, the Lucinda Messenger trial would form the centerpiece of his memoirs.

      The crowd scattered. Lucinda lowered herself back into the chair.

      Matthew Gerber confirmed that she was all right before making his way toward the cluster of reporters waiting in the foyer. He had no way of knowing that among the cluster was one J. B. Pendleton, scribbling across the top of his pad a title for his next book: Lucy Angel and the Devil of Destination Point.

      After another moment, Lucinda breathed a sigh, then stood and turned. Two women faced her, smiling tentatively. The younger one’s eyes glittered with hope as the older said, “Mrs. Messenger, would you care to join us for tea?”

      Lucinda’s eyes welled. “That is so kind of you. Yes.”

      They linked arms. The older woman said, “Your dear lawyer should keep those reporters busy enough that we can sweep you right out of here.”

      “Is it true that you carry one of them derringers?” asked the young woman.

      “Of course. As I said, a lady alone cannot be too careful.”

      “I need to get me one.” The young woman’s brow wrinkled. “Men seem to have guns everywhere upon their person, have you noticed?”

      Lucinda Messenger nodded, but it didn’t concern her. She wondered whether the men of the world would ever understand the power of women united.

      As the three walked down the street, they were joined by one woman, then another, and another.

      Two blocks behind them, a little girl watched. She pointed to the trail of women and exclaimed, “Mother, look! May I follow the Pied Piper, too?”