'My good man, what absolute--'
'_I_ could,' said Jimmy, lighting a cigarette.
There was a roar of laughter and approval. For the past few weeks,
during the rehearsals of 'Love, the Cracksman,' Arthur Mifflin had
disturbed the peace at the Strollers' with his theories on the art
of burglary. This was his first really big part, and he had soaked
himself in it. He had read up the literature of burglary. He had
talked with men from Pinkerton's. He had expounded his views nightly
to his brother Strollers, preaching the delicacy and difficulty of
cracking a crib till his audience had rebelled. It charmed the
Strollers to find Jimmy, obviously of his own initiative and not to
be suspected of having been suborned to the task by themselves,
treading with a firm foot on the expert's favorite corn within five
minutes of their meeting.
'You!' said Arthur Mifflin, with scorn.
'I!'
'You! Why, you couldn't break into an egg unless it was a poached
one.'
'What'll you bet?' said Jimmy.
The Strollers began to sit up and take notice. The magic word 'bet,'
when uttered in that room, had rarely failed to add a zest to life.
They looked expectantly at Arthur Mifflin.
'Go to bed, Jimmy,' said the portrayer of cracksmen. 'I'll come with
you and tuck you in. A nice, strong cup of tea in the morning, and
you won't know there has ever been anything the matter with you.'
A howl of disapproval rose from the company. Indignant voices
accused Arthur Mifflin of having a yellow streak. Encouraging voices
urged him not to be a quitter.
'See! They scorn you,' said Jimmy. 'And rightly. Be a man, Arthur.
What'll you bet?'
Mr. Mifflin regarded him with pity.
'You don't know what you're up against, Jimmy,' he said. 'You're
half a century behind the times. You have an idea that all a burglar
needs is a mask, a blue chin, and a dark lantern. I tell you he
requires a highly specialized education. I've been talking to these
detective fellows, and I know. Now, take your case, you worm. Have
you a thorough knowledge of chemistry, physics, toxicology--'
'Sure.'
'--electricity and microscopy?'
'You have discovered my secret.'
'Can you use an oxy-acetylene blow-pipe?'
'I never travel without one.'
'What do you know about the administration of anaesthetics?'
'Practically everything. It is one of my favorite hobbies.'
'Can you make 'soup'?'
'Soup?'
'Soup,' said Mr. Mifflin, firmly.
Jimmy raised his eyebrows.
'Does an architect make bricks?' he said. 'I leave the rough
