The Bismarck Tribune

THE 'FIGHTING EDITOR' GOES ON TRIAL SOON

Magee, New Mexico Attorney and Newspaper Man, Faces Climax of Career

Las Vegas, N. M., June 12—Carl Magee, fighting editor who doesn't know what it is to be in a battle unless it is against tremendous odds, has reached the climax of his colorful, heroic career.

He is going on trial June 15, for manslaughter as a result of a killing that came by a tragic stroke of misfortune just when his long series of fights was being crowned with success.

Magee is accused of killing John B. Lassiter on August 22, 1925. Lassiter was not a foe; he was a friend, who accidentally stopped a stray bullet from Magee's gun while trying to defend the editor from an assault by Magee's bitterest enemy—former Judge D. J. Leahy.

A Long Struggle

Back of this event lies a long struggle, in which Magee had dared the might of a powerful political ring, hammered with never-failing tenacity at corruption in high places and fought for six long years to rid New Mexico of venality and bossism in its legislative and judicial halls.

It was in 1920 that Magee, an Oklahoma attorney, moved to New Mexico and bought the Albuquerque Morning Journal from Albert B. Fall who was just about to begin his career in the cabinet.

As an editor, Magee delved into politics a bit. What he found disconcerted him. New Mexico, politically, was under the thumb of a ring that maintained its power through manipulation of the non-English speaking Mexican voters in the state.

Magee, through his editorial columns, began to speak up.

Mr. Fall, prospering in his new cabinet position, spoke to Magee about it. Magee replied by opening up wider than ever.

Magee owed money to two banks. They abruptly refused to renew his notes and foreclosed. Magee was compelled to sell his paper.

Started Weekly Paper

But in a few weeks he was back again, editing a weekly paper called The Independent, which he later made a daily under the name of The New Mexico State Tribune. He sold stock to the people of the state and got an instantaneous response.

About this time Magee took occasion to criticize Justice Parker of the state supreme court. A criminal libel suit was brought against him—but not by Parker, who later said he did not believe the accusations of Magee libelous. And Magee was tried, not in his home county, but in the distant county of San Miguel, before his bitterest enemy, Judge Leahy.

The jury was composed of 12 Mexicans, who could not read the sentences they were expected to pass on.

During the trial the pages in Magee's law books relating to libel were torn out, and the judge refused to give him time to get new ones. Naturally, he was convicted.

Magee expressed his mind about Judge Leahy: expressed it so vehemently that Leahy cited him for contempt of court on five counts. He ordered Magee to jail for 18 months.

The state was aroused. Governor Hinkle pardoned Magee in 24 hours, and the editor went back to his paper and renewed the fight.

It was then that Magee struck oil. Not in a literal sense, exactly; but it was a momentous discovery.

When Magee bought the Albuquerque Journal, Fall told him he was broke. Now, four years later, Magee found that ten years back taxes on Fall's ranch were paid up; that extensive improvements had been made and that a general air of prosperity had descended on the place.

He gathered evidence, documentary and verbal, and in due time went to Washington, where he told the Senate investigating committee enough to start Senator Thomas J. Walsh on the trail that eventually laid bare the whole Teapot Dome scandal.

Then the Scripps-Howard newspaper interests came to Magee's aid and gave him new backing. He returned to New Mexico to renew his fighting campaign against the political ring.

Offered to Free Him

Leahy, meantime, had been waiting. He had reserved one of the contempt charges against Magee, waiting his time. Now he struck. He revived this old charge, called Magee before him, and sentenced him to three months in jail after spending a solid hour excoriating him from the bench, using such terms as "horse thief."

New Mexico came close to turmoil then. Hundreds of cowboys sent word to Magee that they would, if he asked it, ride in, storm the jail and set him free by main force. Magee told them not to and appealed to the governor. Again the governor pardoned him. The sheriff, under Leahy's direction, refused to honor the pardon. It took a supreme court habeas corpus writ to free the editor.

This was in the fall of 1924. Judge Leahy was running for re-election. Magee took the stump and campaigned against him; campaigned so well that Leahy was badly beaten in a district where he normally could count on a 3000 majority.

Magee's troubles seemed over. But the worst was yet to come.

It was last August that Magee went to Las Vegas on business. As he sat in the lobby of a hotel, Leahy entered, approached from behind and knocked him to the floor. Then he began to kick him, breaking three of Magee's ribs.

Killed by Mistake

Magee, lying helpless, managed to draw his gun. He fired three shots. Two struck Leahy in the arm. But the third, by tragic misfortune, struck and killed John B. Lassiter, who was trying to hold Leahy back.

And so Magee was arrested. First he was charged with first degree murder. Then the charge was reduced to manslaughter.

So now comes the crisis. Magee goes on trial. Will the jury decide he must go to prison—or will the fighting editor be free to carry on the old struggle?