It was a tableau, for fair. Me and Mrs. Purdy Pell didn't do anything but swap looks for a minute or so. I can't say just how pleased she was, but I've had better views. She wasn't any dainty, lily-of-the-valley sort. She was a good deal of a cabbage rose, I should say, and carried more or less weight for age. She had an arm on her like a fore-quarter of beef. I don't wonder that Purdy Pell skipped to Europe and didn't put in any answer when the proceedin's came up. "Are you the one?" says she. "No, he isn't," says Sadie, speakin' up brisk. "That's right," says I; "but it was me brought your finger sparks back to light, ma'am." "And where did you find them?" says Mrs. Pell, turnin' the third-degree stare on me. "That's a professional secret," says I, "which I can't give up just yet." "Oh, you can't!" says she. "This is interesting." And with that she begins to size us up, one after the other. Oh, she had us tied to the post, with nothin' to do but chuck the knives at us. For a gallery play, it was the punkiest I ever put up. Here I'd come splashin' in with both feet, like an amateur life-saver goin' to the rescue, and I hadn't done anything but raise the tide. Sadie didn't have a word to say. She was just bitin' her lip, and gettin' white about the mouth from the mad in her. And say, maybe Her Stoutness didn't enjoy watchin' us squirm. She was gettin' even for every look one of her Willie boys had ever wasted on Sadie. "We'll see if you two can be induced to confide your precious secret to the police," says she. "I mean to find out who stole my rings." She hadn't more than sent in that shot before the closet door opens, and Buddy comes out, blinkin' like a bat. "It's all over, ain't it?" says he. "It is now," says I, and looks to see Mrs. Purdy Pell begin to holler: "Stop thief!" But it was a case of being off the alley again. Say, I'm glad I wasn't backin' my guesses with good money that night, or I'd come home with my pockets wrong side out. Ever see a hundred-and-eighty-pound fairy with a double chin turn kittenish? That was her. "Why, Mr. Sullivan!" she gurgles, throwin' him a Julia Marlowe goo-goo glance. "Hello, Dimples!" says Buddy. "Oh, they were your rings, were they? Then it's all right. I just borrowed 'em to scare sister into a cat fit and make her open up--just for a josh, you know." "Why, why!" says Mrs. Pell, lookin' twisted, "is Mrs. Dipworthy your sister?" "Sure," says Buddy. "But say, Dimples, you're the very girl I was wanting to see most. I've got another sure thing, good as a title guarantee, for the Croton stakes, and if you'll back it for me we'll make a killing. How about it, eh?" "Oh, you reckless boy," says Mrs. Pell, tapping him on the cheek. "But you did give me such a lovely tip at the Aqueduct, and--and we'll see. Come, I want to talk to you," and she put out a wing for him to take. As they drifted down towards the terrace Buddy turns and gives us the sassy wink over his shoulder.