Patrick gazes at him open-mouthed. Can this be the stiff, little old bank president he knew six months ago? But there can be no question as to Appleboy's intention when he hears the latter order "two rye high-balls and another-for-yourself" of the astonished barkeeper. Appleboy toasts Patrick, Patrick toasts Appleboy. Patrick produces cigars; Appleboy replaces them with others, larger and thicker than any seen at Foley's.
"By the way," says Appleboy, "step up to Police Headquarters with me, will you, Pat? Now that I happen to be down this way, I might as well take that teapot home with me, don't you know."
"Shure," says Pat; "court's adjourned by this time, and I can get back by two o'clock all right."
The best of friends, they go up in the subway together to Police Headquarters. With a bold front and fearless eye Appleboy enters the office of the property clerk, produces his certificate from the district attorney, and demands his teapot.
"This officer will identify me," says he.
"Shure I indentify him," announces Pat.
The clerk takes the certificate, opens the record book and, with a rubber stamp, enters up on the back of the original report the words:
"Identified by officer
as owner of the property."
"Write your name there," says he to Patrick, and McGinnis laboriously scrawls his name between the lines.