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That's how I figger it out," replied Hopalong quietly. "Yore a reg'lar 'tective, ain't yu?" Thirsty asked ironically. "I've got common sense," responded Hopalong. "Yu has? Yu better tell th' rest that, too," replied Thirsty. "I know yu shot Harris, an' yu can't get out of it by makin' funny remarks. Anyhow, yu won't be much loss, an' th' stage company'll feel better, too." "Shoo!
But an invitation is another thing. But I say, Nan, Jiminetty crickets!" "I'm not sure that date-spelling people ought to refer to those crickets," said Nan, lifting her eyebrows. "Well, Jerusalem crickets, then! and every kind of crickets in the ornithology or whatever they belong in. But, Nan, I've discovered something!" "What, Miss Columbus?" "Oh, I'm a Sherlock Holmes! I'm Mr. D. Tective!
James. I will. If I cotch you nearer than Mile End, I'll give you in charge at oncet. He's a humbug, daddy! but he'll serve you right. He'll melt you down for taller. He ain't no 'tective. I know him. Tho. Goo away. Bill. Good-bye, daddy! He don't know your Mattie. Good-bye, skelington! Exit. Tho. Eh! sech a boy! James. Let me see. You want a girl of the name of Mattie? Tho. Aw do, sir. James.
Then, standing out in the gloom, we saw Limehouse Church, where John Rokesmith prowled about on a 'tective scent; and where John Harmon waited for the third mate Radfoot, intending to murder him. Next we reached Limehouse Hole, where Rogue Riderhood took the plunge down the steps of Leaving Shop. Hawkins thought he saw the Artful Dodger ahead of us on the dock.
"I am, Spider, and I want you to know I'm grateful to you, all three. Also I want to thank you all for keeping this affair out of the papers, though how you managed it beats me." "Guv," cried the Old Un, tremulous and eager, "oh, Guv, we're fair sleuth-hounds, we are specially me. There ain't a 'tective nor secret-service cove nor bloomin' bobby fit to black our shoes specially mine!
Rolleston, wisely, "there's more in this than meets the eye, and all that sort of thing think 'tective fellers wrong myself don't think Fitz killed Whyte; jolly well sure he didn't." This would be followed invariably by a query in chorus of "who killed him then?"
She went to bed with the matter still undecided, and the first thing she thought of when she opened her eyes the next day was the ring. A conversation overheard between her mother and Manda, the cook, added to her uneasiness. "Miss Mary, did you know there was a 'tective loafin' round town?" "A detective? No, I did not. If there is, it won't make any difference to you and me," answered Mrs.
"About nine dollars, countin' what I'll save from nex' pay day." "And how do you propose to proceed when you have money enough?" "Hire a lawyer to 'vestigate. The lawyer he keeps half the money, an' gives the other half of it to a 'tective, an' then the 'tective, he finds out all about you. Uncle Billy says that's the way. He says if you git a good smart lawyer you can find out 'most anything."
"Aha," Felix would retort, putting his head on one side, like a meditative sparrow; "'tective fellers can't find out; that's the difficulty. Good mind to go on the prowl myself, by Jove." "But do you know anything of the detective business?" some one would ask. "Oh, dear yes," with an airy wave of his hand; "I've read Gaboreau, you know; awfully jolly life, 'tectives."
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