"He
talks like a man that's got struck with religion!"
As he walked slowly down the stairs to the first floor of the building
he met a brother detective, who stared at him curiously.
"What's the matter, Hardy? Look's if you'd had a shock! Been havin' a
set-to with old Forbes, I'll bet a dollar!"
"You're wrong," was Hardy's answer. "It was the old man this time.
There's something wrong with the boss. I think he's getting religion!"
"Get out! You don't mean it!" said the other fellow, contemptuously.
"Don't I?" said Hardy. "Well, you just listen to this!"
He repeated the conversation that had just taken place in the
superintendent's office.
"Whew! That does sound like it!" said his companion, whose name was Ben
Tyler. "He's off his trolley completely, especially about the money!"
"Well, that makes two trow-downs I've got this week," said Hardy,
sourly, "but I got the fifty from that masher that I was telling you
about! You remember, the swell that calls himself Captain Deering?"
"Yes, I remember," laughed Tyler. "So he caught his bird, did he, or,
rather, you caught her for him!"
"I guess it worked all right," said Hardy, slowly. "He met her and
talked with her, and that's usually enough. Still, he was glum as an
oyster when he gave me the money.
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