“It’s good, but it’s hard,” said Philo Gubb. “A deteckative has to have a hard heart.”
“All right! Here is this man, un-burgling houses. For all we know he is honest and upright,” said Billy Getz. “He continues un-burgling houses. The habit grows. Each house he un-burgles tempts him to un-burgle two. Each set of spoons he leaves in a house tempts him to leave two sets in the next house, or four sets, or a solid silver punch-bowl. In a short time he wipes out his little fortune. He borrows. He begs. At last he steals! In order to un-burgle one house he burgles another. He leads a dual life, a sort of Jekyll-Hyde life—”
“But what if I caught him?” said Mr. Gubb.
“Oh, you won’t catch—I mean, we will leave that to you. Frighten him out of the un-burgling habit. I’ll tell Marshal Wittaker you will get on the trail?”
“Yes,” said Philo Gubb. “I feel sorry for the feller. Maybe he’s lettin’ his wife and children suffer for food whilst he un-burgles away his substance.”
“Then,” said Billy Getz, taking up his lung-tester, “suppose you stop in at the Marshal’s office to-night at eight-thirty. Wittaker will tell you all about it.”
Philo Gubb waited until Billy was well out of the house, and then he said: “He done it, and I know he done it, and he done it to make a fool out of me, but I guess I owe Billy Getz a scare, and if I can prove that un-burglary onto him, he’ll get the scare all right!”
Detective Gubb, when it was time to go to the Marshal’s office, pinned his large nickel-plated star on his vest, put three false beards in his pocket, and went.
The Marshal received him cordially. Billy Getz was there.