“Well, can’t I have as many lunches as I like?” Curtis replied.  “I had lunch, I say, at a place in Market Street, and there I read in a paper that Peters & Pervis, the tin food people, were offering a prize of three thousand dollars for a solution to a puzzle contained on the inside cover of one of their tins.  I immediately determined to enter for it.  I bought a tin and saw through the puzzle at once.  Bribing a policeman to go with me to see fair play, off I set to Peters & Pervis’.

“‘I want to see your boss,’ I said to the first clerk I saw.

“‘Which of them?’ the clerk grunted, his cheeks turning white at the sight of the policeman.

“‘Either will do,’ I replied, ’Peters or Pervis.  Trot ’em up, time is precious.’

“Away he went, but in a couple of minutes was back again, looking scared, ‘They’re both engaged,’ he says.

“‘Then they’ll have to break it off,’ I responded, ’and mighty quick.  I’m here to talk with them, so get a move on you again and give that message.’

“If it hadn’t been for the policeman I don’t think he would have gone, but the policeman backed me up, and the clerk hurried off again; and in the end the bosses decided they had better see me.  They looked precious cross, I can assure you, but before I had done speaking they looked crosser still.

“’You say you’ve done that puzzle,’—­they shouted—­’the puzzle that has stuck all the mathematical guns at Harvard and Yale—­you—­a nonentity like you—­begone, sir, don’t waste our time with such humbug as that.’

“‘All right,’ I said, ’give me some paper and a pen, and I’ll prove it.’

“‘That’s very reasonable,’ the policeman chipped in, ’do the thing fair and square—­I’m here as a witness.’

“Well, with much grunting and grumbling they handed me paper and ink, and in a trice the puzzle was done; and it appeared so easy that the policeman clapped his hands and broke out into a loud guffaw.  My eyes! you should have seen how the faces of Pervis and Peters fell, and have heard what they said.  But it was no use swearing and cursing, the thing was done, and there was the policeman to prove it.

“‘We’ll give you five hundred dollars,’ they said, ’to clear out and say no more about it.’

“‘Five hundred dollars when you’ve advertised three thousand,’ I cried.  ’What do you take me for?  I’ll have that three thousand or I’ll show you both up.’

“‘A thousand, then?’ they said.

“‘No!’ I retorted; ‘three!  Three, and look sharp.  And look here,’ I added, as my glance rested on some of the samples of their pastes they had round them, ’I understand the secrets of all these so-called patents of yours—­there isn’t one of them I couldn’t imitate.  Take that “Rabsidab,” for instance.  What is it?  Why, a compound of horseflesh, turnips and popcorn, flavoured with Lazenby’s sauce—­for the infringement of which patent you are liable to prosecution—­and coloured with cochineal.  Then there’s the stuff you label “Ironcastor,"’—­but they shut me up.  ’There, take your three thousand dollars, write us out a receipt for it, and clear.’”