ot!" says Dudley. "Pay no attention to her, Sergeant."

"Suit yourself," says the Sergeant. "I'd just as soon lock up two as
one. Then we'll be sure."

"There! You see!" says Brother. "You aren't helping any. Now keep
out, will you?"

"But, Dudley----" protests Marjorie.

"That'll do," says the Sergeant. "You'll have plenty of time to talk
it over afterwards. Hospital case, eh? Then we can't take bail.
Names, now!"

And it's while their names are bein' put on the blotter that I slides
out, hunts up a pay station, and gets Mr. Robert on the 'phone.
"Better lug along a good-sized roll," says I, after I've explained the
case, "and start a lawyer or two this way. You'll need 'em."

"I will," says Mr. Robert. "And you'll meet me at the station, will
you?"

"Later on," says I. "I want to try a little sleuthin' first."

You see, I'd spotted the faker's name on the wagon license, and it
occurs to me that before any of them damage-suit shysters get to him it
would be a good scheme to discover just how bad he was bunged up. So
my bluff is that it's an uncle of mine that's been hurt. By pushin' it
good and hard too, and insistin' that I'd got to see him, I gets clear
into the cot without bein' held up. And there's the victim, snoozin'
peaceful.

"Gee!" says I to the nurse, sniffin' the atmosphere. "Had to brace him
up with a drink, did you?"

She smiles at that. "Hardly," says she. "He had attended to that, or
he wouldn't be in here. This is the alcoholic ward, you know."

"Huh!" says I. "Pickled, was he? But is he hurt bad?"

"Not at all," says she. "He will be all right as soon as he's sober."

Did I smoke it back to the station house? Well, some! And Mr. Robert
was there, talkin' to two volunteer witnesses who was ready to swear
the faker was drivin' on the wrong side of the street and not lookin'
where he was goin'.

"How could he," says I, "when he was soused to the ears?"

Course, it took some time to convince the Sergeant; but after he'd had
word from the hospital he concludes to accept a hundred cash, let
Dudley go until mornin', and scratch Marjorie's name off the book.
Goin' back to the house we four rides inside, with Henry at the wheel.

"I'm awfully sorry, Dud," says Marjorie, snugglin' up to Brother,
"but--but it was almost worth it. I didn't know you could be so--so
splendid!"

"Stow it, Peggy," says Dudley. "You're a regular brick!"

"No, I'm not," says she. "And th