He received the dime with a smile of hearty approval, but it was quickly followed by a reappearance of the distressed frown that betokened non-success.
"What's up, Mr. Stone?" Fibsy inquired.
"Not my luck," was the reply; "Fibs, we're up against it."
"Let her go! What's the answer?"
"Well, that Young is a hard nut to crack."
"Not for you, F. S."
"Yes, for me, or for anybody. He's got a perfect alibi."
"Always distrust the 'perfect alibi.' That's one of the first things you taught me, Mr. Stone."
"I know it, Fibs, but this alibi is unimpeachable."
"A peach of an alibi, hey?"