Often while Judge Thayer sat on his porch at Falmouth preparing his findings he found himself thinking of Moore, and the thought of that “damned anarchist” lawyer was enough to cloud the brightest summer day. There, for example, was the whole Goodridge business. Goodridge had been discredited at the trial. That was obvious to anyone. Yet here was Moore chasing him all over Maine, locking him up in jail, blackmailing him with indictments ten years old. “It is perfectly manifest,” Thayer wrote, with a cloud-dispersing mental picture of Moore’s discomfort, “that here was another bold and cruel attempt to sandbag Goodridge by threatening actual arrest, to blacken the name of the district attorney’s office of Norfolk County, by compelling Goodridge to testify as he did on account of the influence of said district attorney’s office. He did not succeed simply because Goodridge would not be intimidated. Was this conduct on the part of Mr. Moore performed in furtherance of public justice, or was it a cruel and unjustifiable attempt to scare Goodridge into swearing to something that was false against the District Attorney’s office?” For Thayer the question was rhetorical. “I have tried to look at this conduct of Mr. Moore with a view of finding some justification or excuse of it,” he concluded. “I can find none.” He was equally severe with Moore in denying the Andrews motion. Perhaps smiling to himself, he wrote, “My relationship with [Moore] has been very pleasant, although at times it would seem, as was very natural, that he was quite unfamiliar with our trial evidence and practice in this state.” Then he let the Californian have both barrels: “Mr. Moore, judging him by his conduct as disclosed under his own motion, signed by him, seems to be laboring under the view that an enthusiastic belief in the innocence of his clients justifies any means in order to accomplish the ends desired.” He accused Moore of a “more intense desire to procure a confession of perjury from Mrs. Andrews than a profound desire to seek the truth.” When Thayer came to the Hamilton motion, he was undoubtedly convinced by the episode of the switched gun-barrels that the self-styled doctor from Auburn was a sharper. He did not elaborate, but in each instance he ruled that Hamilton’s claim was not sustained.