yer shirt on, Bill,' says he. 'We don't want no foolin' with thet
kid.' Waal, I didn't like ther way he spoke, and so I got kind-er
huffy, and he says, 'Here! take yer pay, and git aout! Beat it!'
And here I am!"

"Fired again, eh, Bill?" said one of the loungers.

There was a loud guffaw, and another man dealt Bill a resounding
slap on the back. Whereupon the sidewalk meeting adjourned. As
they passed between the swinging doors of the saloon, Tom touched
the last man on the arm.

"Can you tell me where the constable's office is, sir?" he inquired
politely.

"I'm Constable Thompson," replied the man, displaying his badge, for
he realized that a Boy Scout would require some proof of the
statement. "What d'you want, sonny?"

Very briefly and to the point, Tom stated his case against the
unknown thief who had broken into Ralph's farmhouse during the
previous night. Then he showed Thompson the clews. The constable
examined them carefully, and seemed to recognize them. While he
was doing so, the man called Bill appeared in the doorway and
beckoned for him to come inside.

"Ain't you off'n the water wagon, Thomp?" he asked, with a repulsive
chortle. "Come on! What's the mat------?" He broke off abruptly
as his eyes fell upon the torn remnants in the constable's hands.
"What---what you got there?" he mumbled, turning pale. "Got a