us. He had short, paint-brush whiskers, and I remembered him as
the man in the shanty,--the one whom Mr. Daddles called "black-
hearted Gregory the Gauger."

"You ought to be ashamed of yerself," said he, "leadin' boys into
crime!"

"Do you mean me?" asked Mr. Daddles.

"Yas--I mean you,--in the white pants," he replied, looking with
great scorn at Mr. Daddles's duck trousers, "I've heard how you
perfessional crooks git boys to climb up on water spouts an' let
yer in. I seen yer jest after yer passed my place, an' I knowed
what yer was up to."

"Well, you are quite wrong,--you're way off," said Mr. Daddles,
very seriously. "I don't suppose it will do any good, but it will
save you people from making yourselves ridiculous. It's all true,
--what I told you. I thought we were getting into Mr. Peabody's
house, and he IS my uncle. See here,--do you think we LOOK like
burglars?"

"Can't tell what yer look like," said a man, "'we caught yer in--"

"In partiseps criminy," said Gregory the Gauger, "that's what it
was. An' whatever you look like, you'll look different tomorrer
mornin'. I don't cal'late you know anything about breakin' an'
enterin' Dr. Bigelow's last night?"

"No, we don't. We weren't here last night."