“Not that anybody knows of. Some say he's a widower, others again say he's an old bachelor; but he don't say nothing, for the colonel is as close as wax about his own affairs. So it's pure conjecture, sir.” There was a brief silence. “The county has its conundrums, and the colonel's one of them,” resumed Mr. Saul.
“Yes?” said the judge.
“The colonel's got his friends, to be sure, but he don't mix much with the real quality.”
“Why not?” asked the judge.
“He's apparently as high-toned a gentleman as you'd meet with anywhere; polished, sir, so smooth your fingers would slip if you tried to take hold of him, but it's been commented on that when a horsethief or counterfeiter gets into trouble the colonel's always first choice for counsel.”
“Get's 'em off, does he?” The judge spoke somewhat grimly.
“Mighty nigh always. But then he has most astonishing luck in the matter of witnesses. That's been commented on too.” The judge nodded comprehendingly. “I reckon you'd call Tom Ware, out at Belle Plain, one of Fentress' closest friends. He's another of your conundrums. I wouldn't advise you to be too curious about the colonel.”
“Why not?” The judge was frowning now.
“It will make you unpopular with a certain class. Those of us who've been here long enough have learned that there are some of these conundrums we'd best not ask an answer for.”
The judge pondered this.