But, say, I couldn't stay under cover any longer, with her bein' pushed
down the chute in that style. I was wise to her game all right. She
meant to stand up and take all that was coming, even if it put her down
and out, just to keep the hooks off that kid brother of hers. And me
loafin' back of the ropes with me hands in me pockets! I'd been a
welcher, wouldn't I?

"Did I hear my cue?" says I, steppin' out into the lime-light.

It was a tableau, for fair. Me and Mrs. Purdy Pell didn't do anything
but swap looks for a minute or so. I can't say just how pleased she was,
but I've had better views. She wasn't any dainty, lily-of-the-valley
sort. She was a good deal of a cabbage rose, I should say, and carried
more or less weight for age. She had an arm on her like a fore-quarter
of beef. I don't wonder that Purdy Pell skipped to Europe and didn't put
in any answer when the proceedin's came up.

"Are you the one?" says she.

"No, he isn't," says Sadie, speakin' up brisk.

"That's right," says I; "but it was me brought your finger sparks back
to light, ma'am."

"And where did you find them?" says Mrs. Pell, turnin' the third-degree
stare on me.

"That's a professional secret," says I, "which I can't give up just
yet."

"Oh, you can't!" says she. "This is interesting."

And with that she begins to size us up, one after the other. Oh, she had
us tied to the post, with nothin' to do but chuck the knives at us. For
a gallery play, it was the punkiest I ever put up. Here I'd come
splashin' in with both feet, like an amateur life-saver goin' to the
rescue, and I hadn't done anything but raise the tide.

Sadie didn't have a word to say. She was just bitin' her lip, and
gettin' white about the mouth from the mad in her. And say, maybe Her
Stoutness didn't enjoy watchin' us squirm. She was gettin' even for
every look one of her Willie boys had ever wasted on Sadie.

"We'll see if you two can be induced to confide your precious secret to
the police," says she. "I mean to find out who stole my rings."

She hadn't more than sent in that shot before the closet door opens, and
Buddy comes out, blinkin' like a bat.

"It's all over, ain't it?" says he.

"It is now," says I, and looks to see Mrs. Purdy Pell begin to holler:
"Stop thief!"

But it was a case of being off the alley again. Say, I'm glad I wasn't
backin' my guesses with good money that night, or I'd come home with my
pockets wrong side out. Ever see a hundre