"I am lookin' you in the eye. It's Smilk,--Cassius Smilk."

"Sounds convincing," admitted Mr. Yollop. "Nobody would take the
name of Cassius in vain, I am sure. As a sensible, discriminating
thief, you would not deliberately steal a name like Cassius, now
would you?"

"Well, you see, they call me Cash for short," explained Smilk.
"That's something I can steal with a clear conscience."

"I perceive you are recovering your wits, Mr. Smilk. You appear to
be a most ingenuous rogue. Have you ever tried writing the book for
a musical comedy?"

"A--what?"

"A musical comedy. A forty-legged thing you see on Broadway."

Mr. Smilk pondered. "No, sir," he replied, allowing himself a
prideful leer; "if I do say it as shouldn't, I'm an honest thief."

"Bless my soul," cried Mr. Yollop delightedly; "you get brighter
every minute. Perhaps you have at one time or another conducted a
humorous column for a Metropolitan newspaper?"

"Well, I've done my share towards fillin' up the 'lost' column,"
said Mr. Smilk modestly. "Say, if we're going to keep up this
talkfest much longer, I got to let my hands down. The blood's
runnin' out of 'em. What are you goin' to do with me? Keep me
sittin' here till morning?"