From the journals of Judge Orrin W. Travis

December 25, 188_.

It was not easy for me to do what I did on Christmas but it was necessary. I was visiting my daughter-in-law when the town asked me to arrest each of the Seven on various charges.

I started by enlisting Chris Larabee to assist me. He was at once angry and incredulous. I anticipated his resistance and I sternly reminded him that, though these were his friends, he was still a sworn officer of the court. He did as instructed, but every now and then he'd shoot me a mutinous glare.

JD Dunne was already at the jail. I charged him with illegally discharging a firearm in the town limits. The boy knew full well it wasn't unusual to do so. Luckily he had either a profound respect for the law or my authority; I'm not sure which.

I told Vin Tanner that Mr. Potter claimed he had stolen a Spencer rifle. Such a look of hurt and betrayal I have rarely seen in a man's eyes. But he, too, was incarcerated in short order.

Ezra Standish (if that is indeed his name) was the easiest. His expertise in the gambling arts was legendary. He was arrested for simple card cheating. "I've been framed," he cried in outrage and insult.

Buck Wilmington took awhile, since it first had to be determined which lady friend he was with.

"Mr. Wilmington, one of the Bartholomew twins has charged you with 'breach of promise.'"

Wilmington's jaw dropped and his mouth worked, but no sound came out for nearly a minute.

Larabee took a step forward. "Buck never-"

"Mr. Larabee, it is not for you to decide," I said.

His mouth set in a grim line, but he said nothing more.

Nathan Jackson was arrested for giving a medication to Carlotta Rodriguez that caused her to become gravely--albeit temporarily--ill.

Larabee was barely hanging on to the edge of his patience as we rounded up each of his friends and put them in jail.

Josiah Sanchez was charged with being drunk and disorderly. Although he was calm when we arrested him, I clearly detected the smell of liquor on his breath.

Larabee led Sanchez to the jail. He took the keys, abruptly unlocked the door, and stepped aside to let Sanchez in.

"You too, Larabee," I said.

"Me?!" Now his outrage was complete and his anger boiled to the surface. "Now just hold on! This is ridiculous! You can't just--"

"A little matter of some hitching posts you tore up while drunk, Mr. Larabee. You still owe the town for that."

Larabee quieted down, and with a look of murder in his eyes, stepped into the cell.

"Now it is my duty to pass sentence-"

"Sentence-!" Larabee exclaimed. "Without a trial? For some petty, trumped-up crimes?" The others joined in, clamoring in protest.

"QUIET!"

I waited a moment, then continued.

"You boys will be released on your own recognizance, provided you serve your sentence. The town wants to thank you for all you've done by throwing you a little Christmas party. You are hereby sentenced to attend said party...AND...you will look like you like it." I looked at each of them severely, for emphasis.

"When is this little soiree?" said Standish at last.

"Oh, right now, Mr. Standish. Right now."

With that, the jailhouse door opened and people streamed in carrying food, small presents, and decorations. The jailhouse was quickly transformed and we released the prisoners from their cells. The boys either enjoyed themselves or did a good job of looking like they were.

During the party, Larabee moved through the crowd to stand beside me. "Did you really have to do it this way?"

"Would all of you have come otherwise?"

He nodded in understanding. "Merry Christmas, Judge" was all he said.

END