d come'out of that, ye thievin' Dutchman!" orders Danny,
rushin' up and bangin' on the door with his fists.

"Just let me out, you Irish shrimp!" snarls the Cap'n.

"Can't be done--not yet, Danny," says I.

"But--but he's destroyin' me flowers and runnin' off with me little
house," protested Danny. "I'll have the law on him, so I will."

"Get out, Irisher, or I'll fall on you," warns the Cap'n.

And right in the midst of this debate I sees Norton Plummer and his
chauffeur hurryin' up from across the tracks. I skips back to meet 'em.

"Well," says Plummer, "have you seen anything of the escaped prisoner?"

"That's him," says I, pointin' to the wabblin' shack.

"Whaddye mean?" says Plummer, starin' puzzled.

"He's inside," says I. "You said use strategy, didn't you? Well, that's
the best I had in stock. I got him boxed, all right, but he won't stay
put. He insists on playin' the human turtle. What'll we do with him now?
Come see."

"My word!" says Plummer, as he gets a view of the Cap'n's legs and the
big whiskered face at the little window. "So there you are, eh, you
runaway Hun?"

"Bah!" says the Cap'n. "Why do you call me Hun?"

"Because I've identified you as an escaped German naval officer," says
Plummer. "Do you deny it?"

"Me?" says the Cap'n. "Bah!"

"Who do you claim to be, then?" says I. "A tourist Eskimo or an
out-of-town buyer from Patagonia?"

"I'm Nels Petersen, that's who I am," says he, "and I'm chief engineer
of a ferry-boat that's due to make her first run at five-thirty-three."

"What!" says Plummer. "Are you the Swede engineer who has been writing
love letters to---- Say, what is the name of Mrs. Plummer's maid?"

"Selma," says the Cap'n.

"By George!" says Plummer. "I believe the man's right. But see here:
what were you doing prowling around my back yard to-night! Why didn't
you go to the servants' entrance and ask the cook for Selma, if you're
as much in love with her as you've written that you are?"

"What do you know about it?" demands Petersen.

"Good Lord!" gasps Plummer. "Haven't I had to puzzle out all those
wretched scrawls of yours and read 'em to her? Such mushy letters, too!
Come, if you're the man, why didn't you call Selma out and tell her all
that to her face?"

Nothing but heavy breathing from inside the shack.

"You don't mean to say you were too bashful!" goes on Plummer. "A great
big fellow like you!"

If it hadn't been for the whiskers I believe we could