The word went about among his friends that Binks was drunk and had been fighting.
“And to think a man would act like that,” said one lady, who knew Binks by sight, “just because his wife is away on a visit! If I were his wife I'd never come back to him!”
At the station Binks was solemnly looked over by the chief.
“He's the duck!” said the chief at last. “Exactly old Goldberg's description of the party who spouts the ticker. Where did you collar him, Bill?”
“I sees him paddin' along on Broadway,” replied the bluff man, “and I tumbles to the sucker like a hod of brick. I knowed he was a sneak the first look I gives; and the second I says to meself, 'he's wanted for a watch!' Then I nails him.”
“Do you know who he is?” asked the chief.
“My name,” said Binks, who was recovering from the awful daze that had seized him, “my name is B——”
“Shet up!” roared the bluff man. “Don't give us any guff! It'll be the worse for you!”
“I know the mark,” said an officer looking on.
“His name is 'Windy Joe, the Magsman.' His mug's in the gallery all right enough; number 38, I think.”