tel!
Say, Gubby, what does this old guy look like?"

Mr. Gubb, albeit with a tongue unused to description, delineated Mr.
Critz as best he could, and as he proceeded, Pie-Wagon Pete became
interested.

"Pinkish, and bald? Top of his head like a hard-boiled egg? He ain't
got a scar across his face? The dickens he has! Short and plump, and a
reg'lar old nice grandpa? Blue eyes? Say, did he have a coughin' spell
and choke red in the face? Well, sir, for a brand-new detective,
you've done well. Listen, Jim: Gubby's got the Hard-Boiled Egg!"

The night man almost dropped his cup of coffee.

"Go 'way!" he said. "Old Hard-Boiled? Himself?"

"That's right! And caught him with the goods. Say, listen, Gubby!"

For five minutes Pie-Wagon Pete talked, while Mr. Gubb sat with his
mouth wide open.

"See?" said Pie-Wagon at last. "And don't you mention me at all.
Don't mention no one. Just say to the Chief: 'And havin' trailed him
this far, Mr. Wittaker, and arranged to have him took with the goods,
it's up to you?' See? And as soon as you say that, have him send a
couple of bulls with you, and if they can do it, they'll nab Old
Hard-Boiled just as he takes your cash. And Old Sleuth and Sherlock
Holmes won't be in it with you when to-morrow mornin's papers come
out. Get it?"

Mr. Gubb got it. When he entered his bedroom, Mr. Critz was waiting
for him. It was slightly after eight o'clock; perhaps eight-fifteen.
Mr. Critz had what appeared to be the gold-brick neatly wrapped in
newspaper, and he looked up with his kindly blue eyes. He had been
reading the "Complete Con' Man," and had pushed his spectacles up on
his forehead as Mr. Gubb entered.

"I done that brick up for you," he said, indicating it with his hand,
"so's it wouldn't glitter whilst you was goin' through the street. If
word got passed around there was a gold-brick in town, folks might
sort of get suspicious-like. Nice night for goin' out, ain't it? Got a
letter from my wife this aft'noon," he chuckled. "She says she hopes
I'm doin' well. Sally'd have a fit if she knew what business I was
goin' into. Well, time's gettin' along--"

"I brung the money," said Mr. Gubb, drawing it from his pocket.

"Don't seem hardly necess'ry, does it?" said Mr. Critz mildly. "But I
s'pose it's just as well. Thankee, Mister Gubb. I'll just pile into
my coat--"

Mr. Gubb had picked up the gold-brick, and now he let it fall. Once
more the door flew open, but this time it opened f