“That feller was a pippin,” he declared; “the slickest that ever lived around ’ere, an’ we’ve had some pretty good ones. He was foregathered by the officers for makin’ queer half dollars up to his place an’ the devil was to pay. The coins was finished up so fine you c’d hardly tell ’em. He shipped ’em out with the herbs ’e sent to some feller away off, an’ it was a long time before they traced ’em. He had a little furnace in the cellar under ’is house that ’e went down into through a trap door in the floor, an’ they was a tunnel from the cellar out to the side of the ravine back of the house that ’e’d dug to git away by if anybody ever come after ’im. [Illustration: THE SHERIFF ] “That Wahoo Bitters fluid ’e made was hot stuff. It was about three-quarters bad alcohol. You c’d take three er four fair sized doses an’ you’d want to go out an’ throw stones at yer folks. Ev’rybody was buyin’ it. Old Swan Peterson took it reg’lar an’ half the time ’e didn’t know ’is name. I used to leave Bill in charge o’ the store when I went off duck shoot’n. He slep’ upstairs, an’ would always ’ave a spell o’ sickness while I was away, an’ ’e’d come down in the night an’ drink up the stock. He’d git a skinfull an’ sometimes he’d stay corned three days. They wasn’t no money in that an’ I had to quit carryin’ it. All the owls in the woods up and down the river hoot ‘Wahoo-Wahoo’ an’ that always advertised ’is dope, but I guess ’e made more money in ’is little furnace than ’e did out o’ Wahoo. “Them dizzy dreams ’e wrote about us fellers made me think ’e was looney fer awhile, an’ that the moon ’ad addled ’im when ’e was roostin’ up among them sticks on top of ’is coop at night, but you bet there wasn’t nuth’n looney about ’im. He had a wise head, all except git’n away with it.” Posey’s story was rather lengthy and involved, but it seemed that a quiet and thorough investigation of the affairs of the versatile Wattles had been made by a government detective. His place was visited one day during his absence. The small furnace, some moulds, and other counterfeiter’s paraphernalia were discovered, and several hundred excellent imitations of Uncle Sam’s legal tender and Pullman porter tips were found hidden under rubbish that concealed the entrance to the underground exit from the cellar. The opening in the ravine was well protected from observation by vegetation. Two secret service men, accompanied by the sheriff, had come quietly up the river in a boat late one night. One of the party stole up the path along the bayou, one approached through the ravine, and the other remained with the boat at the entrance to the bayou. Wattles heard suspicious sounds and his lights went out. He crept noiselessly through his secret exit, and at its end he saw the missing evil star of his horoscope. It was on the vest of the officer who awaited him at the mouth of the tunnel.