Part 38 (2/2)

”Me? Nonsense!” exclaimed the Judge violently. ”Do you think I would be taken in by a child's trick like this? Nonsense, Mr. Gubb, nonsense!”

”I didn't hardly think it was possible,” said Detective Gubb.

”Possible?” cried the Judge with anger. ”Do you think a common faker like that could hoodwink _me_? Me give an impostor twenty dollars!

Nonsense, sir!”

He arose. He was in a great rage about it. He stamped to the door.

”And don't let me hear you retailing any such lie about me around this town, sir!” he exclaimed.

He slammed the door, and then the Bald Impostor slowly raised his head above the desk.

”What did you hide for?” asked Philo Gubb.

The Bald Impostor wiped his bedewed brow.

”Hide?” he said questioningly. ”Oh, yes, I did hide, didn't I? Yes.

Yes, I hid. You see--you see the Judge came in.”

”If you hadn't hid,” said Philo Gubb, ”I could have got that business of the per diem charge per day fixed up right here. I was going to introduce him to you.”

”Yes--going to introduce him to me,” said the Bald Impostor. ”That was it. That was why I hid. You were going to introduce him to me, don't you see?”

”I don't quite comprehend the meaning of the reason,” said Philo Gubb.

”Why, you see,” said the Bald Impostor glibly,--”you see--if you introduced me to him--why--why, he'd know me.”

”He'd know you?” said Philo Gubb.

”He'd know me,” repeated the false Mr. Burns. ”I'll tell you why. The Bald Impostor _did_ call on him.”

”Honest?”

”I was there,” said the Bald Impostor. ”The Judge gave him twenty dollars and a copy of some book or other he had written, and he wrote his autograph in the book. Remember that. The Judge wrote his autograph in a book--and gave it to the fellow. I'm telling you this so you can tell the Judge. Tell him I told you. Tell him the fellow's mother is much better now. Tell him Judge Ba.s.s...o...b..tes's toe is quite well. And then ask him for the twenty dollars he owes you. You'll get it.”

”And you was there?” asked Philo Gubb, amazed.

”Out of sight, but there,” said the false Mr. Burns glibly. ”Just ready to put my hand on the fellow--but I couldn't. I hadn't the heart to do it. I thought of the ridicule it would bring down on the poor old Judge. You know he's an uncle of mine. I'm his nephew.”

”He said,” said Philo Gubb hesitatingly, ”he'd never heard of you.”

”He never did,” said the Bald Impostor promptly. ”I was his third sister's adopted child--I am an adopted nephew. And of course you know he would never have anything to do with his sister after she married--ah--General Winston Wells. Not a thing! It was what killed my poor foster mother. Grief!”

He wiped his eyes with his silk handkerchief.

”Grief. Yes, grief. And I hadn't the heart to bring shame to the old man by arresting the Impostor in his house--by showing that the good old man was such a silly old fellow as to be done by a simple trick.

And what did it matter? I can pick up the Bald Impostor in Derlingport.”

<script>