“Put me in the padded cell, would you?” said the maniac-medico furiously. “I’ll see where you go. Come on. The car is waiting. There won’t be any window-bouquets this time, I promise you.” Bob didn’t answer. He didn’t much care what they said. “I got Gee-gee on the phone,” went on Dan viciously, “and she has it all down in black and white, she tells me. The legal light up there has attended to that. A parcel of outrageous falsehoods! The audacity of that girl, too! When I showed her the enormity of her conduct, she only gave a merry little laugh. Said she was terribly fond of me, the minx! And would I come and sit in the front row when she was a bright and scintillating star?” “And she said Gid-up wanted to know if I wouldn’t like to gaze upon that cute little freckle once more?” added Clarence in choked tones. “And all that, on account of you!” exclaimed the commodore, throwing out his arms and looking at the culprit. Dickie didn’t say anything at the moment. He only glared. Bob regarded the three with lack-luster gaze. He felt little interest in them now. “Take him away!” said Dan, breathing hard. “Or I may do him an injury.” “Give him what’s coming to him,” breathed Dickie hoarsely. “He’s got my girl hypnotized.” “Come on,” said the maniac-medico sternly to Bob. “Let’s waste no more time.” “Hold on,” spoke the monocle-man quietly. “You are a little premature, gentlemen.” “What do _you_ want to butt in for?” demanded the commodore aggressively of the monocle-man. “Mr. Bennett has accompanied me here as my prisoner. Am I not right?” Appealing to the hammer-thrower. “Correct,” said that gentleman regretfully. “What’s he been doing besides wrecking homes?” asked the commodore. “A few articles of jewelry have been missing at Mrs. Ralston’s,” said the hammer-thrower in that same tone. “It’s a very regrettable affair. Miss Gerald, for example, lost her ring and it was traced to Mr. Bennett.” Bob stood it patiently. He wondered if his day would ever come. “So?— He’s the merry little social-highwayman, is he?” observed Dan. “The best I can say is, don’t make a hero of him. Give him some real, old-fashioned justice.” “I’m afraid I can’t honestly extend my sympathy to you,” remarked Clarence to Bob stiffly. “I’m not sorry,” said Dickie frankly. “I’m glad. Anyhow, Miss Dolly will despise you now.” With a ring of triumph in his voice. “No, she won’t,” observed Bob, breaking silence for the first time. “It was being what people think I am that made her fall in love with me.” He didn’t want Dickie to feel too good. He remembered that unsportsmanlike punch. “She’s my dear jolly little pal,” Bob went on, “and she wanted to occupy an adjoining cell.” Dickie went up to Bob. “I’d like to give you another,” he said in his nastiest accents.