sneak into some quiet joint and grab a ham sandwich and a cup of
coffee?'

"I was willing to risk it, so we sashayed across the Street, I swirling
my skirts as much as possible to help conceal unlucky Kirke.

"But alas! Kirke had taken just one ravenous gulp at his sandwich when
he stopped abruptly, leaning forward, his coffee cup upraised. I
followed his wide-eyed stare. There outside the window stood Matters,
grinning diabolically. He pushed open the door, Kirke leaped across
the counter and vaulted through the side window, crashing the screen.
Matters dashed around the house in hot pursuit, and I--well, consider
that I was a reporter, seeking a scoop. They did not beat me by six
inches. Only I wish I had dropped the sandwich. I must have looked
funny.

"Kirke flashed behind a shed, Matters after him, I after Matters.
Kirke zigzagged across a lawn dodging from tree to tree,--Matters and
I. Kirke turned into an alley,--Matters and I. Woe to the erring son
of a minister! It was a blind alley. It ended in a garage and the
garage was locked.

"Matters pulled out a revolver and yelled, 'Now stop, you fool; stop,
Kirke!' Kirke looked back; I think he was just ready to shin up the
lightning rod but he saw the revolver and stopped. Matters walked up,
laughing, and handed him a paper. Kirke shoved it in his pocket. I
clasped my sandwich in both hands and looked at them tragically,--sob
element. Then Matters turned away and said, 'See you later, Kirke. I
congratulate the county on securing your services. Just the kind of
witness we like, nice, respectable, good family, and all. Makes it