“What do you make of it?” asked Roaring anxiously.
“Who knows?” smiled Hashknife.
“Are you a handwriting expert?” asked the old judge.
Hashknife laughed softly and shook his head.
“Not me, Judge. I know pen and ink from typewriter, but that’s about all.”
“You didn’t come up to the trial, did you?” asked Roaring.
“I’ve been busy. They tell me Peter Conley hasn’t a chance in the world.”
“Gentlemen,” said the judge wearily, “let us not discuss the trial. Anything else, and I am at your service. Won’t you come in?”
Roaring shook his head quickly.
“Got to get back, Judge.”