"It says here," resumed Billy Wingo, "in section thirty-three under
Moral Rules, that the 'law favoreth works of charity, right and truth,
and abhorreth fraud, covin, and incertainties which obscure the truth;
contrarities, delays, unnecessary circumstances, and such like. Deceit
and fraud should be remedied on all occasions.' How about it? Don't
you agree with Mr. William Noy?"
"He's right; but there's nothing new about it. I knew it already."
"Then you'll understand me, perhaps, when I tell you that I intend to
get to the bottom of everything that has gone on here this afternoon."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that there has been more 'fraud, covin, and incertainties which
obscure the truth' scattered round in this room to-day than by right
there should have been. I don't mind a little. Human beings are odd
numbers, anyway. You've got to take all that into consideration."
"I don't understand you."
"Then, too," pursued the unheeding Billy, "'contrarities, delays,
unnecessary circumstances, and such like,' I despise. They give me a
bad taste in my mouth. Don't they you?"
"They would any one," acquiesced the judge, and made to rise. "Well,
now you've read me what you wanted to, I won't keep you any longer. I
know you must be in a hurry to get away. We'll let the Kilroe business
wait over a few days."
"Sit down, Judge," Billy Wingo murmured softly, his hand resting as if
by chance on the butt of the six-shooter lying on the table. "Sit
down, do."
The judge hesitated. Then with the well-known hollow laugh, he sat
down. He looked at Billy Wingo. The latter looked at him in silence
for a space.
"Judge," he remarked suddenly, "deceit and fraud should remedied on all
occasions. Tell me why you put that letter in the fire?"
The judge continued to sit perfectly still. It might be said that he
was frozen to his chair. Then slowly, almost imperceptibly, his right
hand began to steal upward under the tail of his coat.
"I wouldn't, Judge," continued Billy, "I just wouldn't if I were you."
The judge's hand hung straight by his side. "You're getting in pretty
deep, Bill," he observed with a cold smile.
"But not as deep as you are already," said Billy Wingo, with an even
colder smile. "You haven't answered my question yet--about the burning
of the letter. Why, Judge, why?"
"Give it any name you like," replied the jurist carelessly. "I don't
feel like answering any more questions."
"Yet a li'l while back you didn't mind answering any questions I felt
like asking. Was it to gain time, Judge--to gain time till Skinny
Shindle came in and did his part with the note from Miss Walton? Was
it, Judge, was it? Dumb, huh? Aw right, perhaps you'd rather tell me
why Simon Reelfoot acted about the same way, except Simon was special
careful to make us mad besides--mad when it wasn't necessary to make us
mad if Simon was playing a straight game, but necessary enough if Simon
wanted to gain more time. Yeah, Simon sure beat around the bush time
and again before he came to the point. I expect you were delayed
getting here, huh, Judge? Simon kept looking out of the window alla
time, I remember."
Billy Wingo felt silent and contemplated the judge. The latter stared
back, his face impassive.
"Be advised," said the judge suddenly. "You can't buck us alone. You
should know that."
"I should--maybe," returned Billy Wingo. "But I feel like taking a
gamble with you. So instead of going to Kilroe's, we'll do what the
letter said and go out to Walton's to-day."