In a sweeping glance Rathburn saw that the room contained a bed, wardrobe closet, several chairs, and other articles of furniture and decoration of a bedroom and living room. His eyes flashed back to the burly man sitting at the table, pen poised, coolly surveying him with a frown.
“Your name Jud Brown?” he asked, stepping inside the room and to the side of the door toward the table where he could not be seen from the street.
“I’m Judge Brown,” replied the large man testily. “You should have knocked before you came in, but now you’re here, state your business as quickly as possible.”
“That’s a businesslike tone that I admire to hear, Brown,” drawled Rathburn. “You’ll excuse my not callin’ you judge. I’m afraid when you find out who I am you’d think I was kiddin’ you!”
He smiled amiably while the justice glared angrily.
“You’re drunk!” flared Brown. “The best thing you can do is get out of here––quick.”
Rathburn looked pained. “First you ask me to state my business an’ now you tell me to get out,” he complained. “You might as well know that I never touch likker,” he added convincingly.
Brown was studying him intently with a puzzled look on his face. “Well,” he said finally, with a show of irritation, “what do you want?”
“I want you to tell me the why an’ the wherefores of this document,” said Rathburn sternly as he drew a folded piece of paper from a pocket and spread it out on the table before the astonished gaze of the justice.