am Mr. Patching," exclaimed the artist, presenting himself.

It should be here stated, that, when the disturbances of the evening
first set in, Patching, in pure disgust at the bad taste of the
audience, had quietly dropped himself out of the second story window at
the rear of the stage, and had been skulking in the back lot ever since.
Having heard, outside, of the arrest of Marcus Wilkeson, on an unknown
charge, he had plucked up courage and friendship enough to reenter the
hall, and tender his aid and consolation to that unhappy man. He came in
just in time to hear his name called.

"So that's the chap they called Chicory, or Checkerberry," whispered C.
Skimmerhorn, Esq. "Anybody can see he is a swindler by his slouched hat,
and beard. _Shouldn't_ I enjoy having a good case against him!"

Pigworth, J. P., landlord of the United States Hotel, and Mr. Boolpin,
proprietor, came forward with their little bills, and demanded immediate
payment. This financial difficulty was arranged in one minute by the
genius of Wesley Tiffles. After paying Stoop one dollar and a half (that
excellent idiot crying, and vowing that he didn't want it), the rest of
the proceeds, deducting enough for fares to New York, were divided
equally between the two other creditors; and the panorama and all the
appurtenances were left as a joint security for remaining obligations.
The panorama was worth twice the debts, to be cut into window shades.
After some grumbling, Messrs. Pigworth and Boolpin accepted the terms.

Five minutes later, the polite detective and his party started for New
York. There was a great number of people at the station to see them off,
but only one to say "good-by." That one was the man-boy Stoop, who cried
as if his great, simple heart would break.

BOOK EIGHTH.

A DRAMATIC INTERLUDE.

CHAPTER I.

THE OVERTURE.

It was the last of a delightful series of dramatic nights at Mrs.
Slapman's; and her house was quite filled with embodied Poetry, Travels,
Dramatic Literature, Music, Art, and the Sciences.

The dramatic arrangements of Mrs. Slapman's house were simple, but
effective. A curtain, with rings, hung across the north end of the
parlor, established the confines of the stage, which was on a level with
the floor, and covered with green baize to represent rural scenes, or a
three-ply carpet to indicate refined interiors. Against the wall were
rollers, from which scenes could be dropped, affording perspectives