ham & Royce, of New York, who have been retained to defend him. I suppose we may see him?”
“I’ll take in your cards,” he said, after looking us over. “If Mr. Drysdale wants to see you, it’s all right, but you’ll be the first ones.”
He disappeared into an inner room; we heard the rattling of keys and the clanging of an iron door. He was back again in a moment.
“Step this way, gentlemen,” he said.
Drysdale was sitting on the bunk in his little cell. He came forward with hand outstretched as soon as he saw Godfrey.
“This is mighty kind of you, Jim,” he said.
“I’ll have to lock you in, gentlemen,” broke in the jailer. “How soon must I come fer you?”
“Say twenty minutes,” answered Godfrey, looking at his watch. Then he turned back to us as the jailer’s steps died away down the corridor. “Jack,” he said, “this is Mr. Lester, of Graham & Royce, who’ve been retained to look after your case.”
“My case? Who retained them?”
“I did. I scarcely supposed you were going to let yourself be convicted without lifting a finger.”
Drysdale smiled bitterly.
“They won’t convict me. Just the same, I’m glad to see you, Mr. Lester,” and he held out his hand. “I shall, of course, need some legal advice.”
“I’m glad you admit that much!” retorted Godfrey, with sarcasm. “I understand that you haven’t condescended as yet to prove an alibi?”
“No,” answered the prisoner quietly. “The fact is, I can’t prove an alibi.”
