Part 28 (1/2)
But in the interests of justice ”Old Bogle” and Mr. Hawkins became acquainted, much to the advantage of the latter, as he happened to meet Bogle in the witness-box, a place where the counsel unravelled the trickster's most subtle of designs. The advocate liked ”Old Bogle,” as he called him, because, said he, Bogle, having white hair, was so like a Malacca cane with a silver k.n.o.b, white at the top and black below.
Bogle had sworn that Roger had no tattoo marks when he left England.
In point of fact he had, and Bogle had to fit them to the Claimant, who had had tattoo marks of a very different kind from Roger's. The Claimant had removed his, and therefore was presented to the court without any.
”How do you know Roger had no tattoo marks?” asked Mr. Hawkins.
”I saw his arms on three occasions.” This was a serious answer for Bogle.
”When and where, and under what circ.u.mstances?” followed in quick succession, so that there was no escape. The witness said that Roger had on a pair of black trousers tied round the waist, and his s.h.i.+rt b.u.t.toned up.
”The sleeves, how were they?”
”Loose.”
”How came you to see his naked arms?”
”He was rubbing one of them like this.”
”What did he rub for?”
”I thought he'd got a flea.”
”Did you see it?”
”No, of course.”
”Where was it?”
”Just there.”
”What time was this?”
”Ten minutes past eleven.”
”That's the first occasion; come to the second.”
”Just the same,” says Bogle.
”Same time?”
”Yes.”
”Did he always put his hand inside his sleeve to rub?”
”I don't know.”
”But I want to know.”
”If your s.h.i.+rt was unb.u.t.toned, Mr. Hawkins, and you was rubbin' your arm, you would draw up your sleeve--”