loose,
it wa'n't my fault. From the remarks they made as they went down the
stairs I suspicioned they was some sore on me. But now and then I runs
across folks that I'm kind of proud to have feel that way. Private
detectives is in that class.

I was still on the grin, and thinkin' how real cute I'd been, when I
hears heavy steps on the stairs, and in blows Rossiter's old man, short
of breath and wall eyed.

"Where's he gone?" says he.

"Which one?" says I.

"Why, that fool boy of mine!" says the old man. "I've just had word
that he was here less than an hour ago."

"You got a straight tip," says I.

"Well, where did he go from here?" says he.

"I'm a poor guesser," says I, "and he didn't leave any word; but if you
was to ask my opinion, I'd say that most likely he was behavin'
himself, wherever he was."

"Huh!" growls the old man. "That shows how little you know about him.
He's off being married, probably to some yellow haired chorus girl;
that's where he is!"

"What! Rossy?" says I.

Honest, I thought the old man must have gone batty; but when he tells
me the whole yarn I begins to feel like I'd swallowed a foolish powder.
Seems that Rossiter's mother had been noticin' symptoms in him for some
time; but they hadn't nailed anything until that evenin', when the
chump butler turns in a note that he shouldn't have let go of until
next mornin'. It was from Rossiter, and says as how, by the time she
reads that, he'll have gone and done it.

"But how do you figure out that he's picked a squab for his'n?" says I.

"Because they're the kind that would be most likely to trap a young
chuckle head like Rossiter," says the old man. "It's what I've been
afraid of for a long time. Who else would be likely to marry him?
Come! you don't imagine I think he's an Apollo, just because he's my
son, do you? And don't you suppose I've found out, in all these years,
that he hasn't sense enough to pound sand? But I can't stay here.
I've got to try and stop it, before it's too late. If you think you
can be of any help, you can come along."

Well say, I didn't see how I'd fit into a hunt of that kind; and as for
knowin' what to do, I hadn't a thought in my head just then; but seein'
as how I'd butted in, it didn't seem no more'n right that I should stay
with the game. So I tags along, and we climbs into the old man's
electric cab.

"We'll go to Dr. Piecrust's first, and see if he's there," says he,
"that being our