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a sort of angry laugh. "Tell him, Lightnut," he rasped. "I've had enough of this!" The big policeman's features expanded in a grin, while Tim doubled forward an instant, his blue girth wabbling with internal appreciation of the Foxy one's facetiousness; and the janitor snickered. Jenkins looked shocked. As for me, dash it, I never so wished for my monocle, don't you know! O'Keefe's head angled a little to give me the benefit of a surreptitious wink. "Oh, certainly," he said, his voice affecting a fine sarcasm; "if the gentleman says you're his _friend_--" "He's no friend of mine," I proclaimed indignantly. "Never saw him before in my life." Instead of being confounded, the artful old villain fell back with a great air of astonishment and dismay. By Jove, he managed to turn fairly purple. "Wha-a-t's that?" he gasped stranglingly and clutching at the collar of his pajamas. "Say that again, Dicky." I looked at him severely. "Oh, I say, don't call me 'Dicky,' either," I remonstrated quietly. "It's a name I only like to hear my intimate friends use." He kind of caught the back of a chair and glared wildly at me from under his bushy wintry eyebrows. The beefy rolls of his lower jaw actually trembled. "Don't you--haven't you always classed me as that, Dic--er--Lightnut?" he sort of whispered. By Jove, the effrontery of such acting fairly disgusted me. I looked him over from head to foot with measured contempt. "I don't know you at all," I said coldly, turning away. "Ye gods!" he wheezed, clutching at his grizzled hair. CHAPTER XII I SEND A MAN TO JAIL The two policemen shifted impatiently. "That'll about do, Foxy," growled O'Keefe. "It's entertaining, but enough of a thing--" But the old duffer caught his sleeve. "Wait!" he panted. "One second--wait--just one second!" He looked at Jenkins and ducked his neck forward, swallowing hard. "Jenkins," he said with a sickly smile. "You--you see how it is with Lightnut--poor fellow! None of us ever thought he would go off that bad though. But, as it is, I guess you're the one now who will have to set me right with these people. You'll have to stand for me." Jenkins looked alarmed. He addressed the officers eagerly: "S'help me," he cried, his glance impaling the prisoner with scorn, "I never see this party before in the ten years I been in New York!" Did that settle the fellow? By Jove, not a bit; his jolly nerve seemed
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