I said, “The next time I’m out on patrol—I mean parole—I hope it will be on a Wednesday on account of matinee at the Lyric.”
The inventor said, “I haven’t got any mother, so maybe if I have to have a letter maybe one of your mothers will write it, hey?”
Gee whiz, I just looked at Westy and he just kind of looked at me, but neither one of us said anything.
“Don’t you worry, inventor,” I said; “we’ve got mothers enough to go round; never you mind.”
He said, “Maybe if they don’t like me they wouldn’t give me a letter, hey? Maybe they won’t.”
CHAPTER XXVIII—“FINDINGS, KEEPINGS”
Now comes the big court scene. It’s short, that’s one good thing. It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. I guess that’s why they called it a hearing. No wonder you couldn’t hear it, because there wasn’t anything to hear.
Recorder Van Wort sat behind a desk up on a platform and he was hammering with a mallet. He said everybody should keep still.
I whispered to Westy, “That’s a good idea, having that mallet. I think I’ll get one for our patrol meetings.”
“You’d better get an ax,” he said, under his breath.