ter because it was most probable. After all,
people were always losing things in theaters. Besides, if he started
at the theater, and found the notebook there, he could then go on to a
bar to celebrate. If he found the notebook in a bar, he didn't much
relish the idea of going on to an empty theater in the middle of the
afternoon to celebrate.

Shaking his head over this flimsy structure of logic, he headed down
to _The Hot Seat_. He banged on the lobby doors for a while without
any good result, and finally leaned against one of the side doors,
which opened. Malone fell through, recovered his balance, and found
himself facing an old bewhiskered man with a dustpan, a broom, and a
surprised expression.

"I'm looking for a notebook," Malone said.

"Try a stationery store, youngster," the old man said. "I thought I'd
heard 'em all, but--"

"No," Malone said. "You don't understand."

"I don't got to understand," the old man said. "That's what's so
restful about this here job. I just got to sweep up. I don't got to
understand nothing. Good-bye."

"I'm looking for a notebook I lost here last night," Malone said
desperately.

"Oh," the old man said. "Lost and Found. That's different. You come
with me."

The old man led Malone in silence to a cave deep in the bowels of the
theater, where he went behind a little desk, took up a pencil as if it
were a club, held it poised over a sheet of grimy paper, and said,
"Name?"

Malone said, "I just want to find a notebook."

"Got to give me your name, youngster," the old man said solemnly.
"It's the rules here."

Malone sighed. "Kenneth Malone," he said. "And my address is--"

The old man, fiercely scribbling, looked up. "Wait a minute, can't
you?" he said. "I ain't through 'Kenneth' yet." He wrote on, and
finally said, "Address?"

"Hotel New Yorker," Malone said. "In Manhattan?" the old man said.
"That's right," Malone said wearily.

"Ah," the old man said. "Tourist, ain't you? Tourists is always losing
things. Once it was a big dog. Don't know yet how a dog got into this
here theater. Had to feed it for four days before somebody showed up
to claim it. Fierce-looking animal. Part bloodhound, part water
spaniel."

Fascinated in spite of himself, Malone said, "That's impossible."

"Nothing's impossible," the old man said. "Work for a theater long
enough and you find that out. Part bloodhound, I said, and part water
spaniel. Should have seen that dog before you start t