of sale you forced through. You—you—" to her distress and amazement, Betty burst into tears.
"Don't cry, dear," whispered Bobby, putting her arm around her. "Daddy won't let them do anything to Bob. You see if he does."
Joseph Peabody was apparently impervious to verbal assaults and tears.
"Once more I ask you," he shook Bob violently, "are you going to hand over that paper? Yes, or no?"
"I tell you I haven't got it," said Bob doggedly. "Shaking my teeth out won't help me get a paper I never saw in my life. As for having me arrested, you keep up this racket much longer and the hotel authorities will send for the police on their own responsibility."
Peabody picked up his hat.
"All right, you come along with me," he said sourly. "You won't go before a soft-headed police recorder this time, either. You'll find out what it means to face a real judge."
He was marching Bob toward the door when a sharp rap sounded. Louise, nearest the door, had the presence of mind to open it. A bellboy stood there with a telegram on a tray.
"Telegram for Mr. Joseph Peabody," he announced impassively, his alert eyes darting about
