Rutley yielded not an iota of his haughty bearing. Totally unsuspecting the near approach of the officers from behind, he directed a frigid, steady, contemptuous stare at his accusers, and with an air of puzzled understanding, said:
“What is the meaning of this insult to my honor? I again warn you, gentlemen, of your liability for libel.”
“Law is a venturesome sport, my lord,” ironically exclaimed Sam. “Let me introduce Mr. George Golda”—
Rutley leisurely turned and stared at Jack.
—“Alias, Jack Shore,” continued Sam, with a laugh.
“Well, my poor man. What is your mission?” interrogated Rutley.
Jack stared steadily at Rutley, but kept silent.
“Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha,” derisively laughed Rutley. Then turning to the group, said: “What new joke is this, gentlemen?” Again he turned toward Jack in pretense of a closer scrutiny.
That Rutley was surprised was quite evident, and he stepped forward with some object in view. Mr. Harris seemed to imagine some purpose in Rutley’s movement, and stepping in front of him, said: “Hold, your little game is up!”
“I guess so,” quickly added Sam, who stood ready to assist.