"He's that, all right," says Mrs. Flynn. "Didn't I catch him
red-handed prowlin' about? But if ye want to see what his ugly mug
looks like, ye may. There! Sit ye up and face the gintlemen!"

She's a shifty party with her hands and feet, for with a couple of body
twists Mrs. Flynn is on her knees behind him with his arms pinned to
the small of his back.

"There, thief of the wor-ruld!" says she. "Tell 'em whatever you came
to steal."

"Go on," says I. "Mind the lady."

"I--I'm no thief; really, gentlemen," says he. "You can see that, I
trust."

"Sure!" says I. "Just mistook the basement for the drawin'-room,
didn't you? And you was about to leave cards on the fam'ly. What name
did you say?"

"I--I'd rather not give my name," says he, hangin' his head.

"It's being done in the best circles," says I. "These calls incog. are
gettin' to be bad form. Isn't that right, Mr. Pettigrew?"

"If he is a gas man or a plumber," says Waldo, "why doesn't he say so
at once?"

"There's your cue," says I. "Now come across with the alibi."