Buffalo, stating that Mr. Allen had been recognized there, in the latter
part of June, walking up and down the platform of the station, in a
smoking-jacket, and that he had climbed on the Chicago limited as it
pulled out. This may have caused the Celebrity to feel a trifle
uncomfortable.

"Ha!" exclaimed Mr. Trevor, as he put down the paper. "Mr. Cooke, do you
happen to have any handcuffs on the Maria?"

But my client was pouring out a stiff helping from the decanter, which he
still held in his hand. Then he approached the Celebrity.

"Don't let it worry you, old man," said he, with intense earnestness.
"Don't let it worry you. You're my guest, and I'll see you safe out of
it, or bust."

"Fenelon," said Mrs. Cooke, gravely, "do you realize what you are
saying?"

"You're a clever one, Allen," my client continued, and he backed away the
better to look him over; "you had nerve to stay as long as you did."

The Celebrity laughed confidently.

"Cooke," he replied, "I appreciate your generosity,--I really do. I know
no offence is meant. The mistake is, in fact, most pardonable."

In Mr. Cooke amazement and admiration were clamoring for utterance.

"Damn me," he sputtered, "if you're not the coolest embezzler I ever