“I got him,” he said proudly. “Caught him comin’ out of Sam Wentz’s cellar window. Says he didn’t mean no harm. Had a dream he was to leave spoons on all the society folks an’ he’d be invited to all their parties.”
“Did he fight you?” asked Wittaker. “Your pants is all stained up.”
“Fight? No, he wouldn’t fight a sheep. I tripped over a wire fence cuttin’ a corner an’ fell into a flower-bed. Got Hail Columbia from the lady, too. She said old man Westcote fell into the flowers yesterday, and she didn’t mean to have her flower-bed used as no landin’ place. Heard from Detective Gubb yet?”
Wittaker grinned. “We ought to hear from him soon. And I reckon he’ll be worth waiting to hear from.”
And he was. Word came from him about an hour later. It was a telegram from the Sheriff of Derling County:—
Detective Gubb captured two of the dynamiters to-night. Have their confession. Arrest Pie-Wagon Pete, Long Sam Underbury, and Shorty Billings. All implicated.
“An’ the rewards tot up to five thousand dollars,” said Officer Purcell. “Let’s hustle out an’ nab the other three, an’ maybe we can split it with Gubb.”
“And us sitting here thinking we had a joke on him!” exclaimed Marshal Wittaker with disgust. “It makes me sick!”
“Well, I feel a little bilious myself,” said Billy Getz.