In the Land of the Long White Cloud

learned something from James McKenzie. I understand he’s in prison somewhere in Canterbury. It’s possible she’s gotten in contact with him.”

9
    J ames McKenzie’s trial was held in Lyttelton. Initially, there was a fuss because John Sideblossom favored having the trial in Dunedin. If the trial were held there, he argued, they would have a better chance of catching those who had accepted the stolen goods as well, thus eradicating the whole criminal enterprise.
    Lord Barrington, however, spoke up vehemently against that idea. In his opinion, John Sideblossom just wanted to drag his victim to Dunedin because he knew the judge there better and saw more hope of hanging the thief in the end.
    He would have liked to do that right after capturing James McKenzie. He had since taken to attributing this triumph entirely to himself; after all, he was the one who had beaten James McKenzie and taken him prisoner. The other men thought the beating in the riverbed hardly necessary. In fact, if John Sideblossom had not knocked the thief from his mule and then beat him up, the hunters could have set off after his accomplice. As it was, the second man—though some of the people in the search party believed it to have been a woman—had escaped.
    Nor had the other sheep and cattle barons approved of John dragging the captive along like a slave tied to his horse. They saw no reason why the already badly beaten man should have to walk when his mule was available. At some point, levelheaded men like Lord Barrington and Reginald Beasley had stepped forward and censured John Sideblossom for his behavior. Since James had committed the majority of his crimes in Canterbury, it was the almost unanimous opinion of the group that he should answer for his crimes there. Despite John Sideblossom’s protests, Barrington’s men had freed thelivestock thief and made him give his word not to flee, then led him only lightly bound to Lyttelton, where he would be held until the trial. John insisted, however, on keeping his dog, Friday, which seemed to hurt James more than the bruises from the beating and the shackles on his hands and feet, with which John Sideblossom had bound him at night after locking him in a barn. In a hoarse voice, he asked the men to let the dog stay with him.
    But John proved inflexible. “The dog can work for me,” he explained. “Somebody will be able to make it obey. A first-class sheepdog like that is worth a lot. I’ll keep him as a small repayment for the damages that bastard’s caused.”
    So Friday stayed behind, howling heartbreakingly as the men led her master away from the farm.
    “John won’t have much fun with it,” Gerald said. “These mutts get stuck on their masters.”
    Gerald stood between the two factions on the subject of how James McKenzie should be handled. On the one hand, John was one of his oldest friends; on the other, he had to get along with the men from Canterbury. And like almost all the others, he felt, despite himself, a sort of respect for the ingenious thief. Naturally, he was angry about his losses, but the gambler in him knew that a person did not always take the most honorable path to making a living. And if that person made it for more than ten years without being caught even once, he deserved some respect.
    James fell into a gloomy silence after losing Friday, which he did not break until the prison bars had been closed behind him in Lyttelton.
    The men of Canterbury were disappointed; they would have liked to hear from the source how their captive had carried out the thefts, with whom he had worked, and who the mysterious accomplice who had escaped was. They did not have long to wait for the trial. It was set to take place in the Honorable Justice Stephen’s court the following month.

    Lyttelton had come into possession of its own courtroom—it had been a long time since the trials were conducted in the pub or in the open air, as was common the first few years. The room did, however, prove too small to hold all the citizens of Canterbury who wanted to lay eyes on the infamous livestock thief at the trial. Even the sheep barons who had been affected and their families had to arrive early to find good seats. For that reason, Gerald, Gwyneira, and an excited Paul had taken quarters at the White Hart in Christchurch beforehand so that they could take the Bridle Path to Lyttelton.
    “Don’t you mean we’ll be riding there?” asked a confused Gwyneira when Gerald laid out