"I think your Studio would be the best place," says he, "if you don't mind." I said I didn't, and away we goes around the corner. As we does the turn I sees another cab make a wild dash to get in front, and, takin' a peek through the back window, I spots a second one followin'. "Are we part of a procession?" says I, pointin' 'em out to him. He only grins and looks kind of sheepish. "That's the regular thing nowadays," says he. "What! Tin badgers?" says I. He nods. "They made me rather nervous at first," he says; "but after I'd been shadowed for a week or so I got used to it, and lately I've got so I would feel lost without them. To-night, though, they're rather a nuisance. I thought you might help me to throw them off the track." "But who set 'em on?" says I. "Oh, it's father, I suppose," says he; not grouchy mind you, but kind of tired. "Why, Rossy!" says I. "I didn't think you was the sort that called for P. D. reports." "I'm not," says he. "That's just father's way, you know, when he suspects anything is going on that he hasn't been told about. He runs his business that way--has a big force looking into things all the time. And maybe some of them weren't busy; so he told them to look after me." Well say! I've heard some tough things about the old man, but I never thought he'd carry a thing that far. Why, there ain't any more sportin' blood in Rossiter than you'd look for in a ribbon clerk. Outside of the little ladylike boxin' that he does with me, as a liver regulator, the most excitin' fad of his I ever heard of was collectin' picture postals. Now, I generally fights shy of mixin' up in family affairs, but someway or other I just ached to take a hand in this. "Rossy," says I, "you're dead anxious to hand the lemon to them two sleut's; are you?" He said he was. "And your game's all on the straight after that, is it?" I says. "'Pon my honour, it is," says he. "Then count me in," says I. "I ain't never had any love for them sneak detectives, and here's where I gives 'em a whirl." But say, they're a slippery bunch. They must have known just where we was headin', for by the time we lands on the sidewalk in front of the physical culture parlours, the man in the leadin' cab has jumped out and faded. "He will be watching on the floor above," says Rossiter, "and the other one will stay below." "That's the way they work it, eh?" says I. "Good! Come on in without lookin' around or lettin' 'em know you're on." We goes up to the second floor and turns on the glim in the front office. Then I puts on a pair of gym. shoes, opens the door easy, and tiptoes down the stairs. He was just where I thought he'd be, coverin' up in the shade of the vestibule. "Caught with the goods on!" says I, reachin' out and gettin' a good grip on his neck. "No you don't! No gun play in this!" and I gives his wrist a crack with my knuckles that puts his shootin' arm out of business.