Everlast

CHAPTER NINE

John survived the hanging.

In a bizarre sequence, the noose around John's neck, the mutineer workers took the law in their own hands. Five men set to grabbing the end of the rope, looped around a strong branch, in hope to lift the accused in a quick hanging.

The plan was set in motion, until they heard a shriek. Miss Everlast clutched her heart, darting towards them, her arms swinging. A pang of shame entered their hearts, couldn't face the distress they saw in boss. If she only listened to their side of their story then she would understand why they took such drastic measures.

"No! I will not stand by and let you execute this man," she demanded, placing herself between John's bounded hands and her mob workers. "How do you know for sure he is Miguel's attacker?"

"He attacked me," Stephan said aloud, his voice shaking in an unsure tone.

"Miss Everlast," John whimpered. "He attacked Miguel and I stopped him."

"Why would you attack Miguel?" she asked Stephan.

"I see what's going on here," Neal cut in. "You prefer John to us all. After all he does about fifty men's work in an hour."

"How dare you Mr Gilbert," Monica challenged, her eyes heated. "You stand here and instigate a mob to condemn a man without concrete evidence. Stay in your place. And as for the rest of you, I expected decorum, not animal behaviour. Taking the law in your own hands and you didn't think to ask Miguel what occurred." She turned to John, tiptoeing to loosen the noose. "He is innocent until proven guilty. That is my final say on the matter."

The workers looked to one another. The boss made a compelling argument. Shuffling to the side they bowed their heads.

Monica had managed to calm the situation, making her workers see reason as they returned to their chores. She had to keep John by her side. There was no doubt in her mind that it was Neal who began this wayward crusade. She had seen repugnance in him ever since he proved himself not to be fit to drive the new tractor.

She had taken Mary, John and a constable with her to the nearest hospital. Miguel lay on the bed, decent sized but seemed to swallow his frame. The poor man sustained facial bruising, his left eye blackened by the blow to his temple. His torso wrapped like an Egyptian mummy.

He groaned, sensing his wife sitting beside his bed. With one hand on her he reached the other for his friend.

"John," he managed to say in a dry voice.

He kneeled on the other side, holding his hands. "I'm sorry my friend. I tried."

"I want to know happened Miguel," Monica asked, pulling a chair for the constable and for herself, sitting down on the small chair.

"Senorita, it is not John's fault," he began, wincing after a few words. "Stephan told me that John was looking for me at the stable. I got there, waited and I was attacked. I couldn't see who it was, but it wasn't John. I saw him shove my attacker away."

The constable wrote his notes. "I have written his and Mr Clare's statement, but without evidence I don't know what will become of Mr Clare."

"What evidence do you require?" Monica enquired.

"If more than one attacker was present, they must have left something behind." He pondered, scratching his chin. "Maybe jewellery or something signifying the attacker."

"Most of my workers are in and out, working to keep the stable clean," Monica responded, but then nodded. "The only ones who have access are Miguel, Simon and Neal. Stephan has no business at the stables. He works at the Estate."