"Why," says he,--"why--er----"

"Yes, I know," says I, headin' him off. "You can tell me about that
later. Bring your friend right in; this is my door. It's all right,
Danny; mistakes will happen."

And before any of 'em knows what's up, Danny is left outside with his
mouth open, while I've towed the pair of strays into our sittin' room,
and shooed Sadie out of the way. The minister looks kind of dazed; but he
keeps his head well.

"Really," says he, gazin' around, "I am sure there must be some
misunderstanding."

"You bet," says I, "and it was gettin' worse every minute. About two
shakes more, and you'd been the center of a local disturbance that would
have landed you before the police sergeant."

"Do you mean," says he, "that I cannot communicate with a guest in this
hotel without being liable to arrest?"

"That's the size of it," says I. "Danny had the bracelets all out. The
conundrum is, though, Why I should do the goat act, instead of lettin'
you two mix it up? But that's what happened, and now I guess it's up to
you to give an account."

"H'm!" says he. "It isn't quite clear; but I infer that you have, in a
way, made yourself responsible for me. May I ask whom I have to thank
for----"

"I'm Shorty McCabe," says I.

"Oh!" says he. "It seems to me I've heard----"

"Nothing like bein' well advertised," says I. "Now, how about you--and
this?" With that I points to the specimen in the cast offs, that was
givin' an imitation of a flytrap. It was a little crisp, I admit; but I'm
gettin' anxious to know where I stand.

The minister lifts his eyebrows some, but proceeds to hand out the
information. "My name is Hooker," says he,--"Samuel Hooker."

"Preacher?" says I.

"Ye-es, a poor one," says he. "Where? Well, in the neighborhood of Mossy
Dell, Pennsylvania."

"Out in the celluloid collar belt, eh?" says I. "This ain't a deacon, is
it?" and I jerks my thumb at the fish eyed one.

"This unfortunate fellow," says he, droppin' a hand on the object's
shoulder, "is one of our industrial products. His name is Kronacher,
commonly called Dummy."

"I can guess why," says I. "But now let's get down to how you two happen
to be loose on the seventh floor of the Perzazzer and so far from Mossy
Dell."

The Reverend Sam says there ain't any great mystery about that. He come
on here special to have a talk with a party by the name of Rankin, that
he understood was stoppin' here.

"You don't mean Bobby Brut, do you