"Did it, indeed, Mr. Scribe?"

He faltered a little, and burst forth with, "But we must now
allow one hundred and forty-four square feet for the legitimate
chimney. My position is, that within those undue limits the
secret closet is contained."

I eyed him in silence a moment; then spoke:

"Your survey is concluded, Mr. Scribe; be so good now as to lay
your finger upon the exact part of the chimney wall where you
believe this secret closet to be; or would a witch-hazel wand
assist you, Mr. Scribe?"

"No, Sir, but a crowbar would," he, with temper, rejoined.

Here, now, thought I to myself, the cat leaps out of the bag. I
looked at him with a calm glance, under which he seemed somewhat
uneasy. More than ever now I suspected a plot. I remembered what
my wife had said about abiding by the decision of Mr. Scribe. In
a bland way, I resolved to buy up the decision of Mr. Scribe.

"Sir," said I, "really, I am much obliged to you for this survey.
It has quite set my mind at rest. And no doubt you, too, Mr.
Scribe, must feel much relieved. Sir," I added, "you have made
three visits to the chimney. With a business man, time is money.
Here are fifty dollars, Mr. Scribe. Nay, take it. You have earned
it. Your opinion is worth it. And by the way,"--as he modestly
received the money-"have you any objections to give me