the point? So devilish important when you have to lift an
idea, don't you know.

"Rather fancy your chap's the same one I know of," I drawled, "an oldish
duffer--white mutton-chops--beefy sort of face--sunburn line and
baldish--all that sort of thing!"

"Well, by-y-y George!"--he slapped his hand down--"I should say that
_was_ a real idea! And you say you know this crazy fool?"

"Crazy? He's not crazy!" I exclaimed indignantly, thinking of her
pajamas. "And he's no more _fool_ than I am!"

He fell back with a grunt. "Oh, well, I _know_--but--"

He coughed. By Jove, he seemed disappointed, somehow!

I proceeded calmly: "Real truth is, the beggar's a notorious criminal,
known to the police as Foxy Grandpa--pretends all sorts of things about
people, don't you know."

"My dear Lightnut,"--he was staring at me, mouth distended--"why--how
the devil do _you_ know this?"

I inhaled deliberately. "Awfully simple, don't you know," I responded
quietly; and I let him wait till I had blown six rings. "Fact is, _I'm_
the one sent him to jail!"

"You!"--his laugh was frankly amused, incredulous.

"Oh, yes!"--carelessly--"found the fellow thieving in my rooms the other
night and called in police--oh, they recognized him in a minute!"

He looked floored. "Well, what do you think of that?" he murmured
slowly. Then his face flushed and he sat erect. "And so _that's_ all the
crazier the ruffian is--_that's_ the kind of smart Alex that's been
trying to get gay with me--with _me_!" He started up, snorting like a
war-horse--"Huh! Well, _two_ can play at that game, and"--his eyes
twinkled wrathfully--"I'll show him who's got the best hand! I'll
just--"

The rest trailed off in a mutter. He had dropped beside the telephone
again, his cigar crushed firmly in the corner of his mouth, his gray
mustache bristling aggressively. I tried to trace the family resemblance
to Frances, but clashed if I could see a single point. And while I was
thinking of this, he got his number.

"Yes, yes," I heard, "I _do_ want to speak to him personally--this is
Judge Billings!"--a moment, and then: "Morning, Commissioner--this is
Billings.... Fine, thank you!... Oh, no! No bad effects at all--takes
more than that to throw a seasoned old diner like my--.... What say?"--a
cackling chuckle--"yes, I knew the dinner would loosen _him_ up! Had his
promise before we left the table; Soakem heard him--so did Benedict....
Yes--_oh_, yes; he's got it--had it with