nsolently defied the laws of a great commonwealth, who
had bribed legislatures and bossed judges and browbeaten the public,
slobbered, denied and begged. For two disgustful minutes they extracted
from him his solemn promise that henceforth he would keep his hands off
the laws. Then they turned him out.

"Suppose you enlighten me with the story, gentlemen," suggested the
governor.

Average Jones told it, simply and modestly. At the conclusion, Governor
Arthur looked from the wrecked camera-gun to the mathematical formula
which had fallen to the floor.

"Mr. Jones," he said, "you've done me the service of saving my life;
you've done the public the service of killing a vicious bill. I wish I
could thank you more publicly than this."

"Thank you, Governor," said Average' Jones modestly. "But I owed the
public something, you know, on account of, my uncle, the late Mayor Van
Reypen."

Governor Arthur nodded. "The debt is paid," he said. "That knowledge
must be your reward; that and the consciousness of having worked out a
remarkable and original problem."

"Original?" said Average Jones, eying the diagram on the envelope's
back, with his quaint smile. "Why, Governor, you're giving me too much
credit. It was worked out by one of the greatest detectives of all time,
some two thousand years ago. His name was Euclid."

CHAPTER XI. THE MILLION-DOLLAR DOG

To this day, Average Jones maintains that he felt a distinct thrill at
first sight of the advertisement. Yet Fate might well have chosen a
more appropriate ambush in any one of a hundred of the strange clippings
which were grist to the Ad-Visor's mill. Out of a bulky pile of the
day's paragraphs, however, it was this one that leaped, significant, to
his eye.

WANTED--Ten thousand loathly black beetles, by
A leaseholder who contracted to leave a house in the
same condition as he found it. Ackroyd,
100 W. Sixteenth St. New York

"Black beetles, eh?" observed Average Jones. "This Ackroyd person seems
to be a merry little jester. Well, I'm feeling rather jocular, myself,
this morning. How does one collect black beetles, I wonder? When in
doubt, inquire of the resourceful Simpson."

He pressed a button and his confidential clerk entered.

"Good morning, Simpson," said Average Jones.

"Are you acquainted with that shy but pervasive animal, the domestic
black beetle?"

"Yes, sir; I board," said Simpson simply.

"I suppose there aren't