"I had no pistol," he grinned. From his pocket he drew a nickel-plated
menthol inhaler and calmly leveled it at her head. "It looked very much
like a pistol in the darkness," he said, "and it deserves a place among
the cherished relics descending from our romance."
The next night two happy, contented persons sat in a brilliant Chicago
theatre, and there was nothing in their appearance to indicate that the
day and night before had been the most strenuous in their lives.
"This is more comfortable than a cross beam in a barn," she smiled.
"But it is more public," he responded.
Three months later--but Crosby won both suits.
[Illustration: CROSBY WON BOTH SUITS.]
End of Project Gutenberg's The Day of the Dog, by George Barr McCutcheon
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