Exhaustive as had been the thought which Jimmy's father had given to the possible developments of his enterprise, this was a contingency of which he had not dreamed. He was entirely at a loss. "Don't do that!" he said huskily. "It might go off!" "I should worry!" replied Ogden coldly. "I'm at the right end of it. What are you doing here?" He looked fondly at the lethal weapon. "I got this with cigarette-coupons, to shoot rabbits when we went to the country. Here's where I get a chance at something part-human." "Do you want to murder me?" "Why not?" Mr. Crocker's make-up was trickling down his face in sticky streams. The mask, however, prevented Ogden from seeing this peculiar phenomenon. He was gazing interestedly at his visitor. An idea struck him. "Say, did you come to kidnap me?" Mr. Crocker felt the sense of relief which he had sometimes experienced on the stage when memory had failed him during a scene and a fellow-actor had thrown him the line. It would be exaggerating to say that he was himself again. He could never be completely at his ease with that pistol pointing at him; but he felt considerably better. He lowered his voice an octave or so, and spoke in a husky growl. "Aw, cheese it, kid. Nix on the rough stuff!" "Keep those hands up!" advised Ogden. "Sure! Sure!" growled Mr. Crocker. "Can the gun-play, bo! Say, you've soitanly grown since de last time we got youse!" Ogden's manner became magically friendly. "Are you one of Buck Maginnis' lot?" he enquired almost politely. "Dat's right!" Mr. Crocker blessed the inspiration which had prompted Jimmy's parting words. "I'm wit Buck." "Why didn't Buck come himself?" "He's woiking on anudder job!" To Mr. Crocker's profound relief Ogden lowered the pistol. "I'm strong for Buck," he said conversationally. "We're old pals. Did you see the piece in the paper about him kidnapping me last time? I've got it in my press-clipping album." "Sure," said Mr. Crocker. "Say, listen. If you take me now, Buck's got to come across. I like Buck, but I'm not going to let myself be kidnapped for his benefit. It's fifty-fifty, or nothing doing. See?" "I get you, kid." "Well, if that's understood, all right. Give me a minute to get some clothes on, and I'll be with you." "Don't make a noise," said Mr. Crocker. "Who's making any noise? Say, how did you get in here?" "T'roo de libery windows." "I always knew some yegg would stroll in that way. It beats me why they didn't have bars fixed on them." "Dere's a buzz-wagon outside, waitin'." "You do it in style, don't you?" observed Ogden, pulling on his shirt. "Who's working this with you? Any one I know?" "Naw. A new guy." "Oh? Say, I don't remember you, if it comes to that." "You don't?" said Mr. Crocker a little discomposed. "Well, maybe I wouldn't, with that mask on you. Which of them are you?" "Chicago Ed.'s my monaker." "I don't remember any Chicago Ed." "Well, you will after dis!" said Mr. Crocker, happily inspired.