“Oh, rub your head if you want to!” exclaimed the doctor. “I say you must not stand up. A man that has just had a fit must not stand up.”
“Who had a fit?” asked Philo Gubb.
“You did,” said Dr. Briggs. “I am told you had a very bad fit, and fell and knocked your head against the building. You’re dazed. Lie down!”
“I prefer to wish to stand erect on my feet,” said Mr. Gubb firmly. “Where’s my cup?”
“What cup?”
“Who told you I was suffering from the symptom of a fit?” demanded Philo Gubb.
“Why, a short, plump little German did,” said the doctor. “He sent me here. And he gave me this to give to you.”
The doctor held an envelope toward Mr. Gubb, and the detective took it and tore it open. By the light of the window he read:—
Rec’d of J. Jones, golluf cup worth $500.P. H. Schreckenheim.