"'On the top floor,' says I. 'We've got planks on the stairs and a rigging fixed to haul him up by.'
"When we got him safely landed and the glad coverings off, I looked him over.
"'His intellect must sort of tell on him, don't it?' asks I.
"'Why, he is some under weight,' says the fellow in charge.
"'He don't look over-bright to me,' I goes on.
"'He never does on Sundays,' the husky comes back. 'It's sort of an off day with him.'
"Then I went out to lunch and stayed about two hours; when I got back I found a gang of cops and things buzzing all over the place. Cap. was in the office, his plug hat on the back of his head and a cigar in his mouth.
"'What's the trouble?' says I.
"'Had a hell of a time around here,' says he. 'I was called up on the 'phone and got down as soon as I could. Just take an observation of that fellow over there.'
"The fellow referred to was the handler of the Talking Horse. His left arm was done up in splints and bandaged from finger-tips to shoulder, and he had a clump of reporters around him about six feet thick.