Course, it aint all smooth and even. There was holes here and there, some of 'em three feet deep, but about all the land needed now was a little rakin' and fillin' in, such as Dominick could do in his spare time. The cheerin' fact remains that the hard part of the work has been done, silent and miraculous, and without price. I shouts for Vee to come out and see. It ain't often, either, that I can spring anything on her that leaves her stunned and bug-eyed. "Why, Torchy!" says she, gaspy. "How in the world did you ever manage it? I--I don't understand." "Oh, very simple!" says I. "It's all in havin' the right kind of neighbors." "But you don't mean," says she, "that you persuaded some of our--oh, I'm sure you never could. Besides, you're grinning. Torchy, I want you to tell me all about it. Come, now! Exactly what happened last night?" "Well," says I, "not being present myself I could hardly tell that. But I've got a good hunch." "What is it!" she insists. "From your report of what you heard," says I, "and from the looks of the ground 'n everything, I should judge that the Harbor Hills Exploring and Excavating Co. had been making a night raid on our property." "Pooh!" says Vee. "I never heard of such a company. But if there is one, why should they come here?" "Oh, just prospectin', I expect," says I. "For what?" demands Vee. "For stuff that the 18th amendment says they can't have," says I. "Gettin' down to brass tacks, for a case of dry gin." Even that don't satisfy Vee. She demands why they should dig for any such thing on our land. "They might have heard some rumor," says I, "that MacGregor Shinn went off and left it buried there. As though a Scotchman could ever get as careless as that. I don't believe he did. Anyway, some of them smart Alec commuters who were kiddin' me so free yesterday must have worked up blisters of their own. My guess is that they lost some sleep, too." You don't have to furnish Vee with a diagram of a joke, you know, before she sees it. At that she squints her eyes and lets out a snicker. "I wonder, Torchy," says she, "who could have started such a rumor?" "Yes, that's the main mystery, ain't it?" says I. "But your flower bed is about ready, ain't it?" CHAPTER XX GIVING 'CHITA A LOOK I got to admit that there's some drawbacks to being a 100 per cent perfect private see. Not that I mind making myself useful around the general offices. I'm always willin' to roll up my sleeves any time and save the grand old Corrugated Trust from going on the rocks. I'll take a stab at anything, from meetin' a strike committee of the Amalgamated Window Washers' Union to subbin' in as president for Old Hickory at the annual meetin'. And between times I don't object to makin' myself as handy as a socket wrench. That is, so long as it's something that has to do with finance, high or low.