Mr. Reeves. I imagine he put it in his pocket.
Mr. Hubert. You didn’t see him put it in his pocket?
Mr. Reeves. No, I didn’t see him—I wasn’t paying any attention.
Mr. Hubert. What was his condition when he came in that night?
Mr. Reeves. Not paying no attention to Jack Ruby—I didn’t pay him attention—no attention to him, walking around in my place or coming into my office then—I was busy and didn’t pay no attention to him. You know, he’s in there all the time parking his car, and when he come out of his club lots of times he would walk around and into the office and talk to them that way, and he would say a few words, and if he went out for sandwiches he would always ask us if we needed any sandwiches or drinks or anything like that. He was an awful nice fellow—awful nice.
Mr. Hubert. Did you notice whether he seemed to be crying or upset about anything that night?
Mr. Reeves. No, sir; I didn’t—I didn’t pay any attention to him, but he seemed like—too, you see, I was in the office now, and the guy’s lounge was back in here.
Mr. Hubert. Whose lounge—what lounge?
Mr. Reeves. The lounge in the office, and then the Saturday morning, it seemed like, too, he would go back in the waiting room and prance—walk around more than usual, but he always did walk around—he had hard heels on, and you could hear him walking when he would come out of his club. I would be sitting in the office, maybe figuring up my back receipts, and I would hear him tapping those heels and I would say, “It’s Jack Ruby, because he is coming out of his club.”
Mr. Hubert. You say this night he was walking a little bit more than usual?