Chi Foxy actually gritted his teeth. He was angry with himself. He had talked too well. He had proved so thoroughly that he was a detective that P. Gubb would not believe he was hungry. "See here, bo," he said suddenly, "is this straight about you being a detective, or is that a bluff, too?" Philo Gubb showed Chi Foxy the badge he had received upon completion of his correspondence course of twelve lessons. "I'm the most celebrated and only deteckative in the town of Riverbank, Iowa," he said seriously, "and you can ask the Sheriff or the Chief of Police if you don't believe me. I'm working right now onto a case of quite some importance, into which a calf was stolen, but up to now the clues ain't what they should be. If you don't think I'm a deteckative you can ask Farmer Hopper. He hired me for to get the capture of the guilty calf-stealer aforesaid." Chi Foxy studied P. Gubb's simple face. "And you can arrest a feller and lodge him in jail?" he asked. "I've arrested many and lodged them into jail," P. Gubb assured him. "Well, bo," said Chi Foxy frankly, "I'm the man you're looking for. Arrest me." The tramp knew enough about arrests to know that even a suspect, when lodged in jail, would be fed, and he was hungry and getting hungrier every moment. P. Gubb looked at him with surprise. "I thought you said you was a deteckative," he said. "I am," said Chi Foxy. "Or I wouldn't know I was a criminal. I detected it myself, because nobody else could. Even my old friend Shermlock Hollums couldn't detect it, but I did. I'm a--a murderer, I am. There's a thousand-dollar reward offered for me." "Then why don't you arrest yourself and get the reward?" asked P. Gubb. "Say," said Chi Foxy with disgust. "It can't be done. I know, for I've tried. I'm a fugitive, that's what I am, and right behind me, no matter where I flee to, comes myself ready to grab me and arrest me. I've chased myself all over Europe, Asia and Africa, and I can't get away from myself, and I can't grab myself. It's--it's just awful." Chi Foxy wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. "And I can't keep away from the scene of my crime," he said. "I come back here time after time--" "Did you do the murder here?" asked P. Gubb with increased interest. [Illustration: "A DETECKATIVE LIKE YOU ARE OUGHTN'T TO NEED TWENTY-FIVE CENTS SO BAD AS THAT"] "That's what I did," said Chi Foxy. "I did it here. Take me down to the lock-up. Me and you can hold me all right." "It's somewhat out of the ordinary common run for a feller to be a deteckative and the criminal murderer he's chasing both at once," said P. Gubb doubtfully. "That's so, ain't it?" agreed Chi Foxy. "It looks that way. But facts are facts, ain't they?" "Quite occasionally they are such," agreed P. Gubb. "That's right," said Chi Foxy. "And all you've got to do is to explain them. You see, bo, I was a young feller when I murdered this old miser--" "What did you say his name was?" asked P. Gubb.