"It sure does," Strawn drawled. "So every last one of you folks had a good deal of this sort of practice, I take it?"
Judge Marshall glanced about the room, as if he could not recall the face of everyone present.
"Yes, all of us—except Mr. Sprague and—Penny, my dear, did you join us at all?"
The girl who had once been in on every sport that this crowd of Hamilton's socially elect indulged in, flushed a painful red.
"No, Hugo. I—I have to stay with Mother on Sunday mornings, you know."
"Your target practice was a Sunday morning diversion, then, Judge Marshall?" Dundee asked.
"Yes. We usually have an hour of the sport—between eleven and noon, on Sundays. We've been having a sort of tournament—quite sharply competitive—"
"When did you and your friends practise last?" Dundee asked.
"Last Sunday. Tomorrow was to mark the end of the 'tournament'," the Judge answered.
"And when did you last see your gun and silencer?" Dundee persisted.