“Are you in earnest?”
“Certainly. Haven’t you ever remarked that a serious-minded earnestness always goes with cobbling? Though I’m not really a practical cobbler, but a proprietary one. Our friend, Bertram, will dress and act the practical part. I’ve wired him and he’s replied, collect, accepting the job. You and I will be in the background.”
“Where?”
“NO. 27 Jasmine Street. Not a very savory locality. Why is it, Warren, that the beauty of a city street is generally in inverse ratio to the poetic quality of its name? There I’ve hired the shop and stock of Mr. Hans Fichtel for two days, at the handsome rental of ten dollars per day. Mr. Fichtel purposes to take a keg of beer a-fishing. I think two days will be enough.”
“For the keg?”
“For that noble Roman, Livius. He’ll be reading the papers pretty keenly now. And in to-morrow’s, he’ll find this advertisement.”
Average Jones read from a sheet of paper which he took from his pocket:
“FOUND—Old book in foreign language, probably Latin, marked ‘Percival.’ Owner may recover by giving satisfactory description of peculiar and obscure feature and refunding for advertisement. Fichtel, 27 Jasmine Street.”
“What is the peculiar and obscure feature, Jones?” asked Warren.
“I don’t know.”