host looked at him.

"You are not too late," he answered, "because it may be some days of
time before there is any eats here, for what's burning into that stove
is the unvalueless trimmings off of wall-paper. I'm not the regular
resider at this house by no means."

Chi Foxy looked at his host again.

"You're a paper-hanger, ain't you?" he said.

"Paper-hanger and deteckative," said his host proudly. "My name is
Mister P. Gubb, graduate of the Rising Sun Deteckative Agency's
Correspondence School of Deteckating in twelve lessons. And
paper-hanging done in a neat manner."

Chi Foxy held out his hand eagerly.

"Shake, pard!" he asked. "That's my line, too."

"Paper-hanging?" asked Philo Gubb.

"Detecting," said Chi Foxy promptly. "I'm one of the most famousest
gum-shoe fellers in the world. Me and this here great detective
feller--what's his name, now?--used to work team-work together."

"Burns?" suggested Philo Gubb.

"Holmes," said Chi Foxy, "Shermlock Holmes. Me and him pulled off all
them big jobs you maybe have read about in the papers."

He pronounced the name of the celebrated detective of fiction
"Shermlock Hol-lums."

"Oh, yes," said the tramp, "me and Shermlock is great chums. And me
and the kid!"

"To what kid do you refer to?" asked Philo Gubb.

"Why, my old side partner's little son, Shermlock Hollums the Twoth,"
said Chi Foxy without a blink. "And a cunnin' little feller he
was--took after his father like a cat after fish, he did. Me and old
Shermlock we used to hide things--candy and--and oranges--and let
little Shermlock go and detect where they was. He was a great little
codger, he was."

He noticed that Mr. Gubb was looking at him sharply. He looked down at
his ragged garments.

"Disguise," he said briefly. "Nobody'd know a swell dresser like I am
in this rig, would he? Say, pard, how about giving me a half-dollar to
get breakfast? Us detectives ought to have es-_spirit dee corpse_,
hey? We ought to stick by each other, hey?"

The celebrated paper-hanger detective considered Chi Foxy. It was
evident that P. Gubb doubted the authenticity of the tramp-detective.

"In times of necessary need," he said slowly, "I often assume onto me
the disguise of a tramp, but I don't assume it onto me so complete
that I go asking for money to buy breakfast."

"You don't, hey?" said Chi Foxy scornfully. "Well, you must be a swell
detective, you must. When I get into a tramp disguise I'm a tramp all