pleasant tinkle again," I said. "I've missed you."

"I'm glad to get back," returned Boswell, for it was he who was
manipulating the keys. "I've been so infernally busy, however, over the
court news, that I haven't had a minute to spare."

"Court news, eh?" I said. "You are going to open up a society column,
are you?"

"Not I," he replied. "It's the other kind of a court. We've been having
some pretty hot litigation down in Hades since I was here last. The
city of Cimmeria has been suing the State of Hades for ten years back
dog-taxes."

"For what?" I cried.

"Unpaid dog-taxes for ten years," Boswell explained. "We have just as
much government below in our cities as you have, and I will say for
Hades that our cities are better run than yours."

"I suppose that is due to the fact that when a man gets to Hades
he immediately becomes a reformer," I suggested, with a wink at the
machine, which somehow or other did not seem to appreciate the joke.

"Possibly," observed Boswell. "Whatever the reason, however, the fact
remains that Cimmeria is a well-governed city, and, what is more, it
isn't afraid to assert its rights even as against old Apollyon himself."

"It's safe enough for a corporation," said I. "Much safer for a
corporation which has no soul, than for an individual who has. You can't
torture a city--"

"Oh, can't you!" laughed Boswell. "Humph. Apollyon can make it as hot
for a city as he can for an individual. It is evident that you never
heard of Sodom and Gomorrah--which is surprising to me, since your jokes
about Lot's wife being too fresh and getting salted down, would seem to
indicate that you had heard something about the punishment those cities
underwent."

"You are right, Bozzy," I said. "I had forgotten. But tell me about the
dog-tax. Does the State own a dog?"

"Does it?" roared Boswell. "Why, my dear fellow, where were you brought
up and educated. Does the State own a dog!"

"That's what I asked you," I put in, meekly. "I may be very ignorant,
unless you mean the kind that we have in our legislatures, called the
watch-dogs of the treasury, or, perhaps, the dogs of war. But I never
thought any city would be crazy enough to make the government take out a
license for them."

"Never heard of a beast named Cerberus, I suppose?" said Boswell.

"Yes, I have," I answered. "He guards the gates to the infernal
regions."

"Well--he's the bone of contention," said Boswell. "You see, about ten
years