"Dicky Comstalk?" he cried helplessly. "What the devil does this mean?"—turning to the police.
"Do you know this fellow, Mr. Hamilton?" asked the chief.
"Know him? Of course I know him," answered Teddy; "and I'll stake my last dollar on his honesty."
(Thanks, Teddy!) I began to breathe.
"But—" began the chief, seized with sudden misgivings.
"It is impossible, I tell you," interrupted Hamilton. "I know this gentleman is incapable of the theft. There is some frightful mistake. How the dickens did you get here, Dicky?"
And briefly I told him my story, my ass's ears growing inch by inch as I went along. Hamilton didn't know whether to swear or to laugh; finally he laughed.
"If you wanted to come, why didn't you write me for an invitation?"
"I shouldn't have come to your old ball, had I been invited. It was just the idea of the lark."
"We shall have to hold him, nevertheless," said the chief, "till everything is cleared up. The girl—"