Philo Gubb, Correspondence-School Detective

by Ellis Parker Butler

The correspondence school detective looked at old Gabe with amazement.

“Shootin’ you to death with a gun!” he exclaimed. “Ain’t you told the police?”

“I come to you, didn’t I?” asked old Gabe. “If I was to set the police on the feller he might rouse up and shoot me to death all at once.”

“How is he shootin’ you to death?” asked Philo.

“By inches, b’gee,” said old Gabe. “Yes, sir, by inches. Every once in a while he takes a shot at me. Sometimes through the window of my house, and sometimes when I’m walkin’ on the street.”

“And he ain’t ever hit you yet?” asked Philo Gubb.

“Hit me?” exclaimed old Gabe. “Why, he don’t ever miss me. He hits me every time. There ain’t a day he don’t shoot and hit me, and some days he hits me two or three times. I dare say I’m almost dead now, if I knowed it.”

Philo Gubb fondled his notebook uncertainly.

“What—what does he shoot you with?” he asked.