"Notice the catbirds down here?" went on the wild one. "Noisy little beasts, aren't they? Well, after this take off your hat to 'em. A catbird saved you a lot of money this morning." "I'm afraid I don't follow--" said the dazed Spencer Meyrick. "No? I'll explain. I have been working on this man's paper for the last week. So has a very good friend of mine. We knew he was crooked, but we needed the money and he promised us not to pull off any more blackmail while we stayed. Last night, after we left the office, he arranged this latest. Planned to incriminate me. You little devil--" Manuel, frightened, leaped away. "We usually sleep until noon," went on O'Neill. "He counted on that. Enter the catbird. Sat on our window-sill at ten A.M. and screeched. Woke us up. We felt uneasy. Went to the office, broke down a bolted door, and found what was up." "Dog!" foamed Manuel. "Outcast of the gutter--" "Save your compliments! Mr. Meyrick, my partner is now at the _Mail_ office destroying to-day's issue of the _Mail_. We've already ruined the first-page form, the cut of the policy, and the negative. And we're going north as fast as the Lord'll let us. You can do what you please. Arrest our little lemon-tinted employer, if you want to." Spencer Meyrick stood, considering. "However--I've done you a favor." O'Neill went on. "You can do me one. Let Manuel off--on one condition." "Name it." "That he hands me at once two hundred dollars--one hundred for myself, the other for my partner. It's legitimate salary money due us--we need it. A long walk to New York." "I myself--" began Meyrick. "Don't want your money," said O'Neill. "Want Gonzale's." "Gonzale's you shall have," agreed Meyrick. "You--pay him!" "Never!" cried the Spaniard. "Then it's the police--" hinted O'Neill. Gonzale took two yellow bills from a wallet He tossed them at O'Neill. "There, you cur--" "Careful," cried O'Neill. "Or I'll punch you yet--" He started forward, but Gonzale hastily withdrew. O'Neill and the millionaire followed to the street. "Just as well," commented Meyrick. "I should not have cared to cause his arrest--it would have meant country-wide publicity." He laid a hand on the arm of the newspaper man. "I take it," he said, "that your fortunes are not at the highest ebb. You have done me a very great service. I propose to write two checks--one for you, one for your partner--and you may name the amounts." But the red-haired one shook his head. "No," he replied. "Nix on the anticlimax to virtue on a rampage. We can't be paid for it. It would sort of dim the glory. We've got the railroad fare at last--and we're going away from here. Yes--away from here. On the choo-choo--riding far--riding north." "Well, my boy," answered Spencer Meyrick, "if I can ever do anything for you in New York, come and see me." "You may have to make good on that," laughed O'Neill, and they parted.