DULUTH — Terry J. Martin, described by his attorney as an "aging thief," will not serve more time in prison for stealing a pair of the ruby slippers worn by Judy Garland in "The Wizard of Oz," a judge ruled Monday morning at the federal courthouse here.

Martin, who faced Chief Judge Patrick J. Schiltz from a wheelchair and while receiving oxygen, struck a plea deal with the federal government for time served. Aside from alcohol-related infractions, Martin has lived a crime-free life in rural Grand Rapids, Minn. for more than a decade.

He is now on home hospice care and a hefty mix of prescription drugs that sometimes, by the afternoon hours, make reality hard for him to discern. His doctors don't expect him to live much longer than a few more months, according to his court-appointed attorney Dane DeKrey.

Martin will be on supervised probation for a year and has been ordered to make restitution payments of $300 per month to the Judy Garland Museum.

After the sentencing, DeKrey pushed his client's wheelchair to a minivan driven by Martin's partner Manuela Abraham. Martin settled into the front seat and DeKrey leaned in the passenger side window and reportedly said, "I'm glad you get to go home."

The sentence, which was a departure from guidelines agreed upon by both the defense and prosecution, was not a sure-thing.

"It's easy to feel like the cake was baked, but it didn't feel baked this morning," said DeKrey.

Martin pleaded guilty in October to stealing the slippers. In short, direct sentences spoken in a raspy voice, Martin revealed a few key points to the 18-year-old Minnesota mystery. The theft was a late-night smash-and-grab from the museum that involved little more than taking a sledge hammer to plexiglass.

He believed at the time that he was stealing real ruby slippers — not a mix of glass and sequins. Martin walked away from the shoes within 48 hours of stealing them, after he learned they weren't covered in real gems.

"It wasn't an act meant to set off the international intrigue that it did," DeKrey wrote in his sentencing document. "It was an aging thief committing a crime that he's lived to deeply regret."

Martin, whose early life was filled with tragedies including the death of his young mother, a cruel stepmother and the loss of his infant twins in a fatal car crash with a train, spent years in prison. Among his areas of knowledge: stealing. Long after he had settled into a crime-free life in Grand Rapids, he got a call from an old friend from his crime circles about the ruby slippers.

Martin was lured by the rush of "one last score," according to DeKrey.

At the time of the theft, the slippers were on loan to the museum in the town where Garland was born. They were one of several pairs she wore in the 1939 classic film "The Wizard of Oz." It was the fourth time the shoes had been displayed at the museum and were a popular draw. An exhibition held during the film's 50th anniversary had pulled 30,000 visitors to the small-town museum, according to its former director John Kelsch.

The slippers were recovered by the FBI during a sting operation in 2018. At the time, officials shared few details. There had been a recent scheme to defraud and extort the insurance company that owns the slippers and agents had carried out search warrants in Minnesota and Florida in the recovery process.

No one beyond Martin has ever been charged in the case.

Investigators tied Martin to the slippers because he was in extensive phone contact with another suspect, Assistant U.S. Attorney Matthew Greenley said in court. The former thief's past and his proximity to the crime scene added to the level of intrigue. In the process of investigating Martin, officials noted that his partner, Abraham, was in the United States illegally. They were able to execute a search warrant at his residence.

Martin revealed to authorities that he stole the slippers, but offered no details incriminating anyone else — adhering, according to his attorney, to a personal code. Abraham was not prosecuted and is en route to legal status as part of the plea deal.

On Monday, Kelsch still seemed surprised that the man who stole the slippers lived just 5 miles from his own house. He rued the lost years of displaying the slippers, but was glad for a bit of closure offered by Martin's admission. For a while, Kelsch was a suspect.

"He could've carried this to his grave," Kelsch said.