loco. All right, I says to me, maybe it didn't get far. Maybe it was one of them improved mechanical
dolls, but even if it was it has to run down sometime. So I goes hunting for somebody else that might have
seen it. An' this morning I runs into Shevlin here. An' he tells me. Go on, Tim, give the Doc what you
gave me."
Shevlin blinked, shifted the bag cautiously and began. He had the dogged air of repeating a story that he
had told over and over. And to unsympathetic audiences; for as he went on he would look at me
defiantly, or raise his voice belligerently.
"It was one o'clock this mornin'. I am on me beat when I hear somebody yellin' desperate like. 'Help!' he
yells. 'Murder! Take it away!' he yells. I go runnin', an' there standin' on a bench is a guy in his
soup-an'-nuts an' high hat jammed over his ears, an' a-hittin' this way an' that wit' his cane, an' a-dancin'