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Updated: May 19, 2025
"I do," said Professor Thunder, with dignity, "but I don't care if you don't." "Well, we don't, sir, and what's more, we know you to be an impostor a rank impostor and as editor of the Wildbee 'Guardian, it is my duty to expose you and your shameless fraud upon the public of this town and district."
He came back in the evening, too, and hung about the museum for hours. The Professor observed him with growing resentment. He suspected the intentions of the sandy man, and he was not wrong. Next day, shortly after the show opened, McKnight came again, with the same notebook and the same suspicious air. He brought five men with him, all solid men in Wildbee, one of them the local constable.
"You have witnessed a triumph of teaching and training over brute animal nature, and I hope that when you go out you'll speak well of a show that has been in some measure the victim of a hireling press here in Wildbee." "A marvellous performance, indeed," said a thin, shabby, sandy man, coming forward with a notebook. "Almost miraculous."
"How that?" Nickie's smile deepened. "There was eleven pounds in the pocket of the trousers I borrowed to come home in," he said. THUNDER'S Museum of Marvels was showing at Wildbee, and doing only moderately, much to the Professor's disgust. Nickie the Kid was hurt, too, at the scant attendance.
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