Akers got up, too. He braced one hand against a side of the doorway and felt behind him, his hat still over his eyes. Then he took off his hat, fanned himself a little and stared at J. W. L. Pelly, who was trying to brush off the dust. “Gentlemen,” said Henry huskily, “I believe I am entitled to an explanation.” “A what?” husked Pelly. “Explanation of what?” “Of your attack on me, sir. Do not deny it! I start to enter my own office, and you fly at me--actually fly, sir! You are not satisfied with slanderous attacks on me in your filthy newspaper--you attack me physically. And you, Mr. Akers! Why did you jump up and down in the doorway of my office, blocking me from entering? Damnable discourteous, to say the least.” Thomas Akers opened and shut his mouth several times, but no explanation came forth. He seemed in pain. “As I told you before, it didn’t do any good, Mr. Akers,” Pelly said. After Pelly delivered his “I told you so,” he started back up the street, flexing his knees, like a place-kicker getting ready to boot a football. After a moment of indecision, Mr. Akers followed him. Henry stepped into the office, leaned against his desk and gave way to his emotions. Judge sat down, bent over as though in prayer, and groaned painfully, “I--I can’t stand it! As long as I live, I shall never forget what I just witnessed.” Henry managed to fall into his deskchair, his moon-like face glistening with tears. “Ay vill be dorned! Did somet’ng go wrong, Hanry,” said Oscar Johnson soberly. “Something,” choked Henry, “went just right, Oscar.” “Das is gude,” said Oscar. “Ay vill get de yug.” They had finished their drink, when John Campbell came in. The big, good-natured prosecutor, looked at the tin-cups and smiled but shook his head. He had experienced a drink of Frijole’s brew, and wanted none of it. “I just came up from Doctor Bogart’s place, where Mr. Akers and Mr. Pelly were consulting medical science,” he said. “O-o-o-oh!” said the surprised Henry. “And what ails them?” “That seems problematical, Henry,” laughed the lawyer. “Their testimony is contradictory. Mr. Akers is of the opinion that he must have slipped, while Mr. Pelly favors an attack theory. However, Mr. Akers does not remember any attack.” “And what was Doctor Bogart’s diagnosis, John?” “He advised a pillow for Mr. Akers and a sense of humor for Mr. Telly.” “Oil Ay did vars get oop,” declared Oscar soberly. “Well,” laughed Campbell, “I guess the incident is closed. By the way, Telly hinted that you know the name of the murderer of Ben Todd.” “That,” said Judge, “is as far-fetched as his attack theory. I merely told them I was not allowed to name the killer, until the sheriff gave his permission.” “And I,” smiled Henry, “am very close-mouthed, John.” * * * * *