“Yes,” said Gladwin, “and the young lady, with my aid, found the valuable animal you are searching for––a black dog with a white spot over the right eye and no tail.”
“Hully gee!” cried the boy, ecstatically. “She found him, eh? Well, who’d a-t’ought it, an’ me lookin’ fer him tree hours. Where did she find him, officer? His name’s Mike––named after me old man’s boss what bites nails.”
“We found him in the park in company with a disreputable friend,” said Gladwin.
“A yaller mut?” asked the boy, with a contemptuous emphasis on the mut. “Dat’s the janitor’s dog an’ he’s nottin’ but a tramp. I wisht he’d fall in de river an’ get et by a catfish.”
“I wouldn’t wish him all that hard luck,” laughed Gladwin, “for he had a large bone he was sharing with Mike. I was watching them over the park wall when May came along. I sent them all, and the bone, home in a taxicab.”
“In a which?” ejaculated the boy, while his eyes popped.
“In a taxi,” said Gladwin, lightly.
“Aw, say,” and the little chap’s jaw fell, “now I know you’re kiddin’. Where’d May git the price of a taxi, an’”–––
“Oh, I arranged all that,” the uniformed mystery explained reassuringly, “and if you’d like I’ll call one for you. You look pretty tired. I guess 161 you’ve walked a good many miles on the trail of Mike.”