turns me over to a cop on State Street and I am given the ride to the
hoosegow. Can you beat it?"

"But who was the party with the star and why the pinch?" I asked Dapper
Pete. That gentleman screwed his lean, gambler's face into a ludicrous
frown.

"Him," he sighed, "that was Jim Sloan, constable from Grand Island, Neb.
And they sent him here about two weeks ago to find me. See? And all this
rube does is ride around in rubberneck wagons and take in the museums and
parks, having no idee where I was. He figured merely on enjoyin' himself
at Nebraska's expense.

"And he was just on the observation tower lookin' over the city in his
rube way when I have to walk into him. Yes, sir, Pete Handley, and there
ain't no slicker guy in the country, walkin' like a prize sucker right
into the arms of a Grand Island, Neb., constable. It all goes to show,"
sighed Dapper Pete, "what a small world it is after all."



WATERFRONT FANCIES


Man's capacity for faith is infinite. He is able to believe with passion
in things invisible. He can achieve a fantastic confidence in the
Unknowable. Here he sits on the breakwater near the Municipal Pier, a
fishpole in his hand, staring patiently into the agate-colored water. He
can see nothing. The lake is enormous. It contains thousands of square
miles of water.