“Judge Hampton!” he stammered.
The former jurist nodded.
“I appear before you as the representative of Joe Rodgers.”
“And now I know who the big Indian was ’phoning to last night,” said Victor, in a loud whisper.
“Gee, that’s the time Bob made a safe hit,” murmured Tom.
Mr. Whiffin’s face expressed a comical degree of bewilderment.
“What—what?” he gasped. “I’d like to know what right you have to meddle in this case!”
“Here’s a letter which Mr. Whiffin received from the boy’s uncle,” said the magistrate, handing the missive to the former jurist.
There was a moment of silence while Judge Hampton was reading it.
“You are in a pretty poor position, sir,” he said, looking up from the sheet and addressing Mr. Whiffin. “This amounts to nothing. The duties and responsibilities of guardianship cannot be so lightly thrust into another’s hands by a relative.”