," said Whittlesy.

Flummers condemned him with a look and continued: "The wind whetted
itself to keenness on a bleak knob and came down to shave its unhappy
customers."

"He made his flush," said Whittlesy.

Flummers did not look at him. "I went immediately to the jail, where
one of the rank and file of the Kittymunkses was confined; and say,
you ought to have seen the poor, miserable, bug-bitten wretch they
stood up in front of me. He wore about a half-pint of dirty whiskers,
and in his make-up he reminded me of a scare-crow that brother and I
once made to put out on the farm in Wisconsin. I have seen a number of
Kittymunkses, but he was the worst. I said, 'Say, why don't you wash
yourself?' and the horrible suggestion made him shudder. 'Is this the
man?' the sheriff asked. 'Gentlemen,' I replied, disdaining the
sheriff, 'on the first train that pulls out I am going back to
Chicago; and whenever you catch another baboon that has worn himself
threadbare by sitting around your village, telegraph me and I will
come and tell you to turn him loose.' 'Then he is not the man?' said
the sheriff, giving me a look that told of deep official
disappointment. 'Gentlemen,' I replied, still disdaining the sheriff,
'I never saw this poor wretch before. Tra la.' I met one gentleman in
the town. I think he belonged to the sporting fraternity. He said,
'Will you have something?' and we went into a place kept by a retired
prize-fighter. My friend pointed to a noisy party at the rear end of
the room, and said: 'The city authorities.' 'Should they live?' I
asked, and my friend said, 'They should not.' And then papa was in
town. 'Make me a sufficient inducement,' said I, 'and I will take a
position on one of your newspapers and kill them off. One of my
specialties is the killing of city authorities. Nature has intended
them for my meat. I have killed mayors in nearly every place that is
worthy of the name of municipality; and between the ordinary city
official and papa,' I added, 'there is about as much affinity as there
is between a case of hydrophobia and a limpid trout stream trickling
its way through the woods of my native Wisconsin.' Say, do you know
what he did? He eyed me suspiciously and edged off toward the door.
Oh, it is painful to stand by helplessly and see fate constantly
casting my lot among jays."

"Mr. Flummers, do you think that you would recognize Kittymunks if you
were to see him?" Henry asked.

"Sure thing. Papa'