ave young cop, was disappointed something terrible.

"Who is this Anna?" I asked him soon's I got my breath.

"Oh, a Swede girl--I know her a long time," he says foolishly. "Used to
entertain me in the basement when I was on the regular force. She's
_some_ cook! You're lucky to have her."

And just then this ex-pro-German Bolshevist cook we was so lucky to have
starts to yell again!

"Frits! Oy! Frits!" she says. "He bane gone! Make un yoump back!"

And sure enough, there was Frits on the fire-escape of the flat next to
us. He had give one hop and a flutter and got across, where he sat,
silent for once in his life and giving us the evil-eye.

"Yoump back," says the cook in passionate entriety. "Yoump back to your
Aniky that you love! All day you yell you love may an' now you leave
may!"

And as she said them words still another weight was lifted from my
shoulders, although not from hers, for instead of jumping back, that
radical bird which it seemed was not a radical after all and acting like
the most conventional parrot in the world, commenced to climb up the
fire-escape of the other apartment house, like he was leaving us
forever.

"Yoump!" implored Anna, but he just climbed, instead.

"Here, wait, and I'll get him!" says Mike. "Glad to do it, Anna. I can
step across easy enough!"

Anna held his coat, and he swung hisself over to the other side almost
as neat as a picture-actor, and commenced following that mean-hearted
bird up and up, story after story, until that animal led him in at a
open window about three flats above. We waited in silence and, believe
you me, I had about commenced to believe that bird and he was never
coming out again, when down comes Mike, the bird tucked into his vest,
his face simply purple with excitement. I never seen any acrobat work
swifter or quieter than he did. He landed on the kitchen floor and
closed the window behind him before he even give Anna her bird.

"The telephone!--quick! The telephone--headquarters at once--I've got
that guy this time at last! And to think that a damn bird had to find
him for me!"

And it was the truth. Frits, far from being an alien, was a good little
American parrot and had actually led the cop to the very place he had
been looking for all that while, and they arrested two guys and
everything!

And after they got through the phone rang and there was Goldringer's
voice.

"The aeroplane has come, Miss La Tour," he says. "When will you be