and Mr. Medderbrook immediately appeared.

As he came from the dining-room rapidly, the napkin he had had tucked
in his neck fell over his shoulder behind him, and Mr. Medderbrook,
instead of turning around bent backward until he could pick up the
napkin with his teeth, after which he resumed his normal upright
position.

"Excuse me, Gubb," he said; "I didn't think what I was doing. Where is
the cup?"

The detective explained. He handed Mr. Medderbrook the receipt that
had been sent by Mr. Schreckenheim, and the moment Mr. Medderbrook's
eyes fell upon it he turned red.

"That infernal Dutchman!" he cried, although Mr. Schreckenheim was not
a Dutchman at all, but a German-American. "I'll jail him for this!"

He stopped short.

"Gubb," he said, "did that fellow tell you what his business was?"

"He did not," said Philo Gubb. "He failed to express any mention of
it."

"That man," said Mr. Medderbrook bitterly, "is Schreckenheim, the
greatest tattoo artist in the world. He is the king of them all. A
connoisseur in tattooish art can tell a Schreckenheim as easily as a
picture-dealer can tell a Corot. But no matter! Mr. Gubb, you are a
detective and I believe what is told detectives is held inviolable.
Yes. You--and all Riverbank--see in me an ordinary citizen, wealthy,
perhaps, but ordinary. As a matter of fact, I was once"--he looked
cautiously around--"I was once a contortionist. I was once _the_
contortionist. And now I am a wealthy man. My wife left me because she
said I was stingy, and she took my child--my only daughter. I have
never seen either of them since. I have searched high and low, but I
cannot find them. Mr. Gubb, I would give the man that finds my
daughter--if she is alive--a thousand dollars."

"You don't object to my attempting to try?" said Philo Gubb.

"No," said Mr. Jonas Medderbrook, "but that is not what I wish to
explain. In my contortion act, Mr. Gubb, I was obliged to wear the
most expensive silk tights. Wiggling on the floor destroys them
rapidly. I had a happy thought. I was known as the Man-Serpent. Could
I not save all expense of tights by having myself tattooed so that my
skin would represent scales? Look."

Mr. Medderbrook pulled up his cuff and showed Mr. Gubb his arm. It was
beautifully tattooed in red and blue, like the scales of a cobra.

"The cost," continued Mr. Medderbrook, "was great. Herr Schreckenheim
worked continuously on me, and when he reached my manly chest I had