“What then?”
“A piece of writing,”
“Whose?”
“Henning's.”
“Of what nature? What has it to do with the suspicion in the yard?”
“It has a good deal to do with it.”
“Well, out with it, if you have anything to tell. I'm tired of this dallying. What's up?”
Garrett, still out of temper, was quite testy. It can be seen that he had very little respect for these boys. He made no pretense of choosing his words with them.
Smithers, nothing daunted by the surly manner in which he had been addressed, after more or less fumbling, drew from the inside pocket of his coat a crumpled sheet of letter-paper. It bore the college printed address on the top, and was dated December 23.
“Whose writing is that, do you think?”asked Smithers.