monotony of a padded cell!

"But, laddie," he said with steely affection, "listen once more.
Reflect! Ponder! Does it not seep into your consciousness that we
are, as it were, subtly connected in this house in the minds of
certain bad persons? Are we not imagined by Mr. McEachern, for
instance, to be working hand-in-hand like brothers? Do you fancy
that Mr. McEachern, chatting with his tame sleuth-hound over their
cigars, will have been reticent on this point? I think not. How do
you propose to baffle that gentlemanly sleuth, Spike, who, I may
mention once again, has rarely moved more than two yards away from
me since his arrival?"

An involuntary chuckle escaped Spike.

"Sure, boss, dat's all right."

"All right, is it? Well, well! What makes you think it is all
right?"

"Why, say, boss, dose sleut's is out of business." A merry grin
split Spike's face. "It's funny, boss. Gee! It's got a circus
skinned! Listen. Dey's bin an' arrest each other."

Jimmy moodily revised his former view. Even in Bloomingdale, this
sort of thing would be coldly received. Genius must ever walk alone.
Spike would have to get along without hope of meeting a kindred
spirit, another fellow-being in tune with his brain-processes.

"Dat's right," chuckled Spike. "Leastways, it ain't."

"No, no," said Jimmy, soothingly. "I quite understand."

"It's dis way, boss. One of dem has bin an' arrest de odder mug. Dey
had a scrap, each t'inkin' de odder guy was after de jools, an' not
knowin' dey was bot' sleut's, an' now one of dem's bin an' taken de
odder off, an'"--there were tears of innocent joy in Spike's eyes--"an'
locked him into de coal-cellar."

"What on earth do you mean?"

Spike giggled helplessly.

"Listen, boss. It's dis way. Gee! It beat de band! When it's all
dark 'cos of de storm comin' on, I'm in de dressin'-room, chasin'
around fer de jool-box, an' just as I gits a line on it, gee! I
hears a footstep comin' down de passage, very soft, straight fer de
door. Was I to de bad? Dat's right. I says to meself, here's one of
de sleut' guys what's bin and got wise to me, an' he's comin' in to
put de grip on me. So, I gits up quick, an' I hides behind a
coitain. Dere's a coitain at de side of de room. Dere's dude suits
an' t'ings hangin' behind it. I chases meself in dere, and stands
waitin' fer de sleut' to come in. 'Cos den, you see, I'm goin' to
try an' get busy before he can see who I am--it's pretty dark 'cos
of de storm--a