"Oh yes. She's some sort of performing snake female in vaudeville or
something, isn't she, or something of that species or order?"

"You're near it, but not quite right. She is the leading exponent of
high-brow tragedy on any stage in the civilized world."

"Absolutely! I remember now. My wife lugged me to see her perform one
night. It all comes back to me. She had me wedged in an orchestra-stall
before I knew what I was up against, and then it was too late. I
remember reading in some journal or other that she had a pet snake,
given her by some Russian prince or other, what?"

"That," said Sherriff, "was the impression I intended to convey when I
sent the story to the papers. I'm her Press-agent. As a matter of fact,
I bought Peter-its name's Peter-myself down on the East Side. I always
believe in animals for Press-agent stunts. I've nearly always had good
results. But with Her Nibs I'm handicapped. Shackled, so to speak. You
might almost say my genius is stifled. Or strangled, if you prefer it."

"Anything you say," agreed Archie, courteously, "But how? Why is your
what-d'you-call-it what's-its-named?"

"She keeps me on a leash. She won't let me do anything with a kick in
it. If I've suggested one rip-snorting stunt, I've suggested twenty, and
every time she turns them down on the ground that that sort of thing
is beneath the dignity of an artist in her position. It doesn't give a
fellow a chance. So now I've made up my mind to do her good by stealth.
I'm going to steal her snake."

"Steal it? Pinch it, as it were?"

"Yes. Big story for the papers, you see. She's grown very much attached
to Peter. He's her mascot. I believe she's practically kidded herself
into believing that Russian prince story. If I can sneak it away and
keep it away for a day or two, she'll do the rest. She'll make such a
fuss that the papers will be full of it."

"I see."

"Wow, any ordinary woman would work in with me. But not Her Nibs. She
would call it cheap and degrading and a lot of other things. It's got to
be a genuine steal, and, if I'm caught at it, I lose my job. So that's
where you come in."

"But where am I to keep the jolly old reptile?"

"Oh, anywhere. Punch a few holes in a hat-box, and make it up a
shakedown inside. It'll be company for you."

"Something in that. My wife's away just now and it's a bit lonely in the
evenings."

"You'll never be lonely with Peter around. He's a great scout. Always
merry and bright."