xclaimed Archie so impatiently that the Governor eyed him
in surprise.

"It's remarkable how my theory that every man is a potential crook finds
fresh proof all the time. Now old Congdon is rich and there's no reason
on earth why he shouldn't live straight; but, bless you, it's quite
otherwise! He's a victim of the same aberration that prompts people
apparently as upright as a flagstaff to drop hotel towels into their
trunks, collect coffee spoons in popular restaurants, or steal flowers
in public gardens when they have expensive conservatories at home. You
never can tell, Archie."

Archie, with the Congdons looming large on his horizon, was not
interested in the philosophical aspects of petty pilfering.

"Stick to Eliphalet," he suggested.

"Oh, yes! Well, I met today one of the most remarkable of all the men I
know who camp outside the pale. Perky is his name in Who's Who in No
Man's Land. A jeweler by trade, he fell from his high estate and went on
the road as a yegg. The work was too rough for him for one thing, and
for another it was too much of a gamble. Opening safes only to find
that they contained a few dollars in stamps and the postmaster's carpet
slippers vexed him extremely and he then entered into the game of boring
neat holes in the rim of twenty-dollar gold pieces, leaving only the
outer shell and filling 'em up with a composition he invented that made
the coin ring like a marriage bell. While he was still experimenting he
ran into old Eliphalet sitting with his famous umbrella on a bench in
Boston Common. Perky thought Eliphalet was a stool pigeon for a con
outfit, but explanations followed and it was a case of infatuation on
both sides. The old man was as tickled with the scheme as a boy with a
new dog. He now assists Perky to circulate the spurious medium of
exchange. Perky says he's a wonderful ally, endowed with all the
qualities of a first class crook."

"You'll appreciate that better," said Archie, "when you hear what I know
about the Congdon family. You've been mighty decent in not pressing me
for any account of myself but you've got to hear my story now. We'll
probably both be more comfortable if I don't tell you my name, but you
shall have that, too, if you care for it. So many things have happened
since I left Bailey Harbor that you don't know about, things that I
haven't dared tell you, that I'm going to spout it all now and here. If
you want to chuck me when you've heard it, well enough;