Although this affidavit stood as an entity in itself, Thompson filed it as a subsection of the Hamilton motion. In a counteraffidavit, Katzmann swore that he had not “repeatedly” asked Proctor “whether he had found any evidence that the mortal bullet had passed through the Sacco pistol,” but he did not deny having asked the question, nor did he deny Proctor’s answer. Proctor died in March 1924, before Judge Thayer could rule on any of the supplementary motions. * * * * * Early in September 1923 Thompson had picked up a story about Ripley, the jury foreman, that he considered important enough, even though it was hearsay, to include in the first motion. William Daley, a Quincy contractor who said he had known Ripley intimately for thirty-eight years, willingly signed an affidavit about an occurrence at the Adams railroad station during the last week of May 1921. Daley had met Ripley on the platform there while waiting for a train, and Ripley had told him that he was going away for a couple of weeks to be a juror in the case of the two South Braintree Guineas. Daley said he did not believe the Guineas were guilty, and that it was not reasonable to suppose a man would go and rob a factory where he had worked and was well known, and in broad daylight. “Damn them, they ought to hang them anyway!” Ripley had replied. Of course there could be no corroboration of Daley’s statement, for Ripley had been dead now for over two years. * * * * * On October 1 Thompson, Hill, Moore, and the McAnarney brothers appeared in an almost empty courtroom to argue the supplementary motions. Again the defendants were brought in and placed in the cage. Sacco was still tanned from his outdoor work at the Bridgewater hospital. Vanzetti looked waxen, his eyes more deeply sunk than ever. Rosina was there with Ines, as was the indefatigable Mrs. Evans. Ines had on a pink dress and bonnet, and both defendants’ faces lighted up as Sacco held her for a moment in the cage. When Rosina started to walk away toward Mrs. Evans, Ines became frightened at being left alone with two strangers. She howled until her mother took her away. Judge Thayer’s step lacked none of its briskness as he strode into the room, and his face had lost none of its masklike quality, even though this prolonged case impinged on him now like a recurring bad dream. “There seems to be no justification or excuse for the delays in filing affidavits,” he announced in pettish protest. “The court has several times set dates for the completion of filing affidavits on both sides. Apparently no attention has been paid to these orders.”