“Well, first I had to git my skeleton keys made.”

“I thought you said his door was never locked,” interrupted Solon.

“That might be only a ruse,” suggested our hero.  “Well, I got my keys made, and then I begun to search his room.  That’s always a delicate job.  You got to know just how.  First I looked under the aidges of the carpet, clear around.  Nothing rewarded my masterly search.  Then I examines the bed and mattress inch by inch, with the same discouragin’ results.”  Billy had now drifted fairly into the exciting manner of his favorite authors.

“Baffled, but not beaten, I nex’ turns my attention to the pictures, examinin’ with a trained eye the backs of same, where might be cunningly concealed the old will—­uh—­I mean the incriminatin’ dockaments that would bring the craven wretch to bay and land him safely behind the bars of jestice.  But it seemed like I had the cunning of a fiend to contend with.  No objeks of interest was revealed to my swift but thorough examination.  Thence I directed my attentions to the wall-paper, well knowin’ the desperate tricks to which the higher class of criminal will ofttimes resort to.  Once I thought the game was up and all was lost.  That new Swede chambermaid walks right in an’ ketches me at my delicate tasks.

“Always retainin’ my calm presence of mind and coolness in emergencies, quick to think an’ as ready to act, with an undaunted bravery I sprang at the girl’s throat and hissed, ’How much will it take to silence your accursed tongue?’ She draws her slight girlish figure up to its full height—­’Ten thousand dollars!’ she hissed back at me.  ’Ten thousand devils!’ I cried, hoarse with rage—­”

Too palpably our hero had been overwhelmed by his passion for fictitious prose narrative.

“Hold on, Billy!—­back up,” broke in Solon.  “This is business, you know—­this isn’t an Old Cap’ Collyer tale.”

“Well, anyway,” resumed Billy, a little abashed, “I silenced the girl.  I threatened to have her transported for life if she breathed a word.  Mebbe she didn’t suspect anything after all.  Tilly ain’t so very bright.  So at length I continues my researches into every nook and cranny of the den, and jest as I was about to abandon the trail, baffled and beaten at every turn, what should I git but an idee to look at some papers lyin’ in plain sight on the table at the head of the bed.”

“Well, out with it!” I thought Solon was growing a little impatient.  But Billy controlled the situation with a firm hand.

“It’s an old trick,” he continued, “one that’s fooled many a better man than Billy Durgin—­leavin’ the dockaments carelessly exposed like they didn’t amount to anything; but havin’ the well-known tenacity of a bloodhound, I was not to be thwarted.  Well—­to make a long story short—­”

Solon brightened wonderfully.

“I have to admit that my first suspicion was incorrect.  He ain’t the one that done that Lima, Ohio, job and carried off them eight hundred dollars’ worth of stamps—­”