affle cooks in Mrs.
Phillipetti's booth. He learned that the yellow man had been in jail.
He learned that for a few minutes the yellow negro had been alone
behind the waffle booth. The Chief thereupon arrested the yellow
negro.

As he led the negro from the grounds by the back way, in order to
cause as little commotion as possible, he brushed by a strange
creature dressed as a wizard, who was standing by the rear entrance,
droning: "Tell your fortune, ten cents! Tell your fortune, ten cents!"
The wizard was tall and thin and wore a long white beard, a sort of
Mother-Hubbard gown, and a pointed cap. As the Chief passed with his
prisoner the wizard turned his eyes on the two, and then droned on. It
was Philo Gubb, the paper-hanger detective, on the job!

Philo Gubb, having received his costume, had come to the Carnival
grounds the back way. He had wandered about the grounds, peeking and
peering, seeking malefactors unsuccessfully. He felt the whole weight
of the Carnival on his shoulders. When he suspected a youth he
followed him at a safe distance, stopping when he stopped, going on
when he went on. He was so intent on trailing and shadowing that he
did not even notice the placards calling him to the Executive Booth.
Every few minutes he had to stop and tell a fortune with the magic
tube. So far he had collected two dollars and sixty cents.

The Chief, with his prisoner walking quietly by his side,--to avoid
unpleasant commotion in an otherwise orderly crowd,--had just passed
the wizard when he heard voices that made him look back.

"There he is!" said one voice. "Kick him off the grounds!"

"Here, you!" said another voice. "You've got to get out of here. And
you've got to give up the money you've taken. Quick now. We don't
allow any professionals on these grounds."

The voices were those of Henry P. Cross, Officer of the Day for this
day of the Carnival, and Sam Green, Jr., Vice-Chairman of Police, and
they were speaking to the wizard.

"Sh!" said the wizard, in a mysterious voice. "It's all right! Don't
make a fuss. It's all right!"

"Let me kick him off the grounds!" said Mr. Cross. "All I want is a
chance to kick him off the grounds. The cheap professional fakir,
sneaking in to get money that ought to go to the Hospital! Let me
kick--"

"Now, wait!" said Mr. Green irritably. "We want to make him disgorge
first, don't we? Just keep your head on, Cross. Let me handle this."

"It's all right! Don't make a f