“We won’t get caught,” said Bob. “We’ve been so noble and upright lately that the proc won’t suspect us. And I don’t believe any one will squeal now. We haven’t done anything worth mentioning since the picture racket. By the way, Ned, have you found out who wrote the card that gave us away?”
“No, but I’m on the track. I’ve eliminated all but two typewriters now. It was written on either one of them. I’ve had specimens of writing from every machine in the building but two.”
“And whose are those?” asked Jerry.
“Frank Watson’s and Proxy’s—or the one his clerk uses.”
“Great fish-cakes!” cried Bob. “You don’t suspect Proxy; do you?”
“Of course not. It may have been his clerk, but I don’t guess so. The only other one is Frank, and I’ll get the goods on him yet!”
“Well, about the feed,” resumed Bob, “shall we have it?”
“Sure! Go ahead!” assented Jerry. “Things have been a bit dull of late.”
“Count me in,” added Ned.