Mr. Medderbrook took Mr. Gubb to his home and
turned over to him the stock in the Utterly Hopeless Mine.

"And here," said Mr. Medderbrook, "is a receipt for ten thousand five
hundred dollars, and you can give me back that five hundred I paid you
for recovering of my golf cup. That's to show you everything is fair
and square when you deal with me. Now you owe me only fourteen
thousand five hundred dollars."

While Mr. Gubb was handing the five hundred dollars back to Mr.
Medderbrook the colored butler entered with a telegram. Mr.
Medderbrook tore it open hastily.

"Good news already," he said and handed it to Mr. Gubb. It was from
Syrilla and said:--

Be brave. Have lost four ounces already. Kind regards and
best love to Mr. Gubb.

With only partial satisfaction Mr. Gubb left Mr. Medderbrook and
proceeded downtown. He now had a double incentive for seeking the
rewards that fall to detectives, for he had Syrilla to win and the
Utterly Hopeless Gold-Mine stock to pay for. He started for the
Pie-Wagon, for he was hungry, but on the way certain suspicious
actions of Joe Henry (the liveryman who had twice beaten him up while
he was working on the dynamiter case), stopped him, and it was much
later when he entered the Pie-Wagon.

As Philo Gubb entered, Billy Getz sat on one of the stools and stirred
his coffee. He held a dime novel with his other hand, reading; but
Pie-Wagon Pete kept an eye on him. He knew Billy Getz and his
practical jokes. If unwatched for a moment, the young whipper-snapper
might empty the salt into the sugar-bowl, or play some other prank
that came under his idea of fun.

Billy Getz was a good example of the spoiled only son. He went in for
all the vice there was in town, and to occupy his spare time he
planned practical jokes. He was thirty years old, rather bald, had a
pale and leathery skin, and a preternaturally serious expression. In
his pranks he was aided by the group of young poker-playing,
cigarette-smoking fellows known as the "Kidders."

Billy Getz, as he read the last line of the thrilling tale of "The
Pale Avengers," tucked the book in his pocket, and looked up and saw
Philo Gubb. The hawk-eyes of Billy Getz sparkled.

"Hello, detective!" he cried. "Sit down and have something! You're
just the man I've been lookin' for. Was askin' Pete about you not a
minute ago--wasn't I, Pete?"

Pie-Wagon Pete nodded.

"Yes, sir," said Billy Getz eagerly, "I've got something right