“You did what?”
“Now, quit!” said the long, lanky man. “No use rubbin’ it in after I’ve owned up. You know as well as I do—I’m the man that stole Farmer Hopper’s calf. I give up. I surrender.”
“I’m much obliged to you,” said Philo Gubb.
“Well, I ain’t obliged to you,” said the lanky man, “but I wish you’d tell me how you found out I was the calf thief.”
Mr. Gubb smiled an inscrutable smile.
“A deteckative acquires dexterity in the way of capturing up the criminal classes,” he said with oracular yet modest simplicity.
The next day, when Mr. Gubb returned to his paper-hanging job he found Chi Foxy waiting for him.
“Boss,” he said with a laugh, “I showed you where that murdered man’s bones was buried, won’t you stake me to a meal?”
“Are you hungry again?” asked Mr. Gubb.