skey had been discovered and confiscated--one in the cellar of the
Harburger House at Derlingport; one in Joe Henry's stable at
Riverbank; and a smaller one in the room in the Willcox Building
frequented by the "Kidders."

"How I done it?" said Philo Gubb to one of his admirers. "I done it
like a deteckative does it--a deteckative that wants to detect--picks
up some feller that looks suspicious-like, like it says in Lesson
Four, Rule Four. And then he shadows and trails him, like it says in
Lesson Four, Rules Four to Seventeen. And then somethin's bound to
happen."

"But how can you tell what's goin' to happen?" asked his admirer.

"Well, sir," said Philo Gubb, "that's the beauty of the deteckative
business. You don't ever know what's goin' to happen until it
happens."

THE UN-BURGLARS

Although Detective Gubb's experience with the oubliette-elevator did
not lead to the detection of the dynamiters for whom a reward of five
thousand dollars was offered, it resulted in the payment to him of one
half of three fines of five hundred dollars for each of the three
stores of whiskey he had unearthed. With this money, amounting to
seven hundred and fifty dollars, Mr. Gubb went to the home of Jonas
Medderbrook and paid that gentleman the entire amount.

"That there payment," Mr. Gubb said, "deducted from what I owe onto
them shares of Perfectly Worthless Gold-Mine Stock--"

"The name of the mine, if you please, is Utterly Hopeless and not
Perfectly Worthless," said Mr. Medderbrook severely.

"Just so," said Mr. Gubb apologetically. "You must excuse me, Mr.
Medderbrook. I ain't no expert onto gold-mines' names and, offhand,
them two names seem about the same to me. But my remark was to be that
the indebtedness of the liability I now owe you is only thirteen
thousand seven hundred and fifty dollars."

"And the sooner you get it paid up the better it will suit me," said
Mr. Medderbrook.

"Yes, sir," said Mr. Gubb, and hesitated. Then, assuming an air of
little concern, he asked: "It ain't likely to suppose we've had any
word from Miss Syrilla, is it, Mr. Medderbrook?"

For answer Mr. Medderbrook went to his desk and brought Mr. Gubb a
telegram. It was from Syrilla. It said:--

Eating no potatoes, drinking no water. Have lost eight
pounds. Kind love to Mr. Gubb.

"She's wore herself down to nine hundred and ninety-two pounds,
according to that," said Mr. Gubb. "She has only got to wear off two
hund