“Telephone directory, first, for as I take it, from his handkerchief being a good one he is sure to be on the phone. If I can't nail him there, I'll try the list of voters in Belton and the surrounding districts.”
“But he may be under age,” smiled his wife.
“Then I'm snookered,” laughed Larose, “I'm a pricked bladder and no more good. I'm finished with.”
“But if you go to Belton,” said Mrs. Larose, “be sure to call on that cousin of mine, the Canon. If I telephone his wife you're coming, they'll perhaps be able to put you up”—she laughed—“and keep their eye upon you at the same time.”
Larose looked horrified. “Not for worlds!” he exclaimed. “I'll stop at a hotel.” He nodded. “Still, I'll go and see your cousin. Perhaps he knows of my criminal friend.”
The following day saw Larose inst
