ft and peek through the door."

For a minute I thought maybe they'd cleared out, he was so still about
it, so I steps up to rubber, too. And there's Mr. and Mrs. Rutgers
Greene, sittin' on the sofa about as close as they could get, her
weepin' damp streaks down his shirt front, and him pattin' her back
hair gentle and lovin'.

"Turn off the sprayer!" says I. "Here's the kid!"

Well, we was all mixed up for the next few minutes. They hugs Gerald
both to once, and then they hugs each other, and if I hadn't ducked
just as I did I ain't sure what would have happened to me. When I
comes back, half an hour later, all I needs is one glance to see that a
lot of private sleut's and court lawyers is out of a job.

"Shorty," says Greene, givin' me the hearty grip, "I don't know how I'm
ever goin' to----"

"Ah, lose it!" says I. "It was just by a fluke I got on the job,
anyway. That's a great kid of yours, eh?"

Did I say anything about Primrose Park bein' a place where nothin' ever
happened? Well, you can scratch that.

XI

WHEN ROSSITER CUT LOOSE

As a general thing I don't go much on looks, but I will say that I've
seen handsomer specimens than Rossiter. He's got good height, and
plenty of reach, with legs branchin' out just under his armpits--you
know how them clothespin fellers are built--but when you finish out the
combination with pop eyes and a couple of overhangin' front teeth--
Well, what's the use? Rossy don't travel on his shape. He don't have
to, with popper bossin' a couple of trunk lines.

When he first begun comin' to the Studio I sized him up for a soft
boiled, and wondered how he could stray around town alone without
havin' his shell cracked. Took me some time, too, before I fell to the
fact that Rossy was wiser'n he looked; but at that he wa'n't no
knowledge trust.

Just bein' good natured was Rossy's long suit. Course, he couldn't
help grinnin'; his mouth is cut that way. There wa'n't any mistakin'
the look in them wide set eyes of his, though. That was the real
article, the genuine I'll-stand-for-anything kind. Say, you could
spring any sort of a josh on Rossy, and he wouldn't squeal. He was one
of your shy violets, too. Mostly he played a thinkin' part, and when
he did talk, he didn't say much. After you got to know 'him real well,
though, and was used to the way he looked, you couldn't help likin'
Rossiter. I'd had both him and the old man as reg'lars for two or
three m