"And you proceeded to go ahead and teach her about this transmigration of souls that you don't believe into yourself," said Mr. Gubb helpfully.

"And when she found out you was a faker she set out to sue you for her money back."

"No. Not that!" said Alibaba Singh energetically. "That's not it. She doesn't want her money back. She--she's _almost_ satisfied. She's willing to accept what had happened philosophically. She's almost content. Mr. Gubb, the reason I came to you was that I did not want her to land in--"

Alibaba Singh looked carefully around.

"I don't want her to land in jail," he whispered. "It would make trouble for me. The lady, Mr. Gubb, is Mrs. Henry K. Lippett."

"Well?" queried Mr. Gubb.

"What I don't know," said Alibaba Singh, wiping his brow nervously, "is whether I _did_ reincarnate her late husband or whether she's liable to be arrested for stealing a--"

Alibaba Singh stopped short and arose hastily. Some one had knocked on Mr. Gubb's door. Alibaba Singh moved toward the door.

"I don't want to talk about this with anybody around," he said nervously. "I'll come back later. Not a word about it!"

He brushed past Mr. Gubb's new visitor as he went out, and Mr. Gubb arose to greet the newcomer.

This third visitor was a large, red-faced man with an extremely loud vest. He wore a high hat of gray beaver, and a large but questionable diamond sparkled on his finger. He walked directly up to Mr. Gubb and shook hands.

"Sit down," he commanded. "Now, you're Gubb, the detective, ain't you?

Good enough! My name is Stephen Watts, but they mostly call me Steve for short--Three-Finger Steve," he added, holding up his right hand to show that one finger was missing. "I'm in the show business. Ever hear of John, the Educated Horse? Ever hear of Hogo, the Human Trilobite?

Ever hear of Henry, the Educated Pig? Well, them are me! That's my show. Did you ever hear of a sheriff?"

"Frequently often," said Mr. Gubb with a smile.

"Well, up to Derlingport this here Human Trilobite of mine got loose from my side-show tent, and when they found him he had eat about half of the marble cornerstone out from under the Dawkins Building. He's crazy after white marble. It's like candy to him. So Dawkins attaches my show and sends the Sheriff with an execution to grab the whole business unless I pay for a new cornerstone. Said it would cost two hundred and fifty dollars. I didn't have the money."

"So he took the show," said Philo Gubb.

"_Ex_-act-ly!" said Mr. Three-Finger Steve. "He grabbed the whole caboodle. _Ex_-cept Henry, the Educated Pig. That's why I'm here. That Sheriff's attachment is out against that pig; it was a felony to remove that pig from Derling County while that attachment was out against it. _And_ the pig was removed."

"You removed it away from there?" asked Philo Gubb.

"Listen," said Three-Finger Steve. "I didn't remove that pig from Derling County. It was stole from me. Greasy Gus stole it. Augustus P.

Smith, my bally-hoo man, stole Henry, the Educated Pig, and made a get-away with him. See? See what I want?"

"Not positively exact," said Philo Gubb.

"Well, it's a little bit delicate," said Three-Finger Steve, "and that's why I come to you instead of to the police. I want that pig.

But if I go to the police and they find the pig they'll send it back to the Sheriff in Derling County. See?"

"Do you want I should arrest Greasy Augustus P. Smith?" asked Philo Gubb.

"Not on your life!" said Three-Finger vigorously. "No arrests! You just get the pig."

"How big is the size of the pig?" asked Philo Gubb.

"It's a big pig," said Mr. Watts. "Henry has been getting almost too fat, and that's a fact. I've been thinking right along I'd have to diet Henry, but I never got to it. He's one of these big, double-chinned pinkish-white pigs--looks like a prize pig in a county fair. And, listen! He's in this town!"

"Really, indeed?" said Mr. Gubb.

"I know it!" said Three-Finger Steve. "I seen Greasy Gus load that pig into a farm wagon at Derlingport, and I thought Gus was trying to salvage the pig for me, like one feller will help out another in time of trouble. So I come down to Riverbank on the train, expecting Gus would show up at the hotel and tell me where the pig was hid. All right! Gus shows up. 'Gus,' I says, 'where's Henry?' Gus lets on to be worried. 'Stolen!' he says. 'Some guy lifted him when I wasn't looking.' Of course I knew that was a lie, and I told him so. 'Now,'

he says, 'you'll never get Henry back. I meant to give him back to you, but after you have talked to me like that I'll never give him back. I'll keep him,' he says, 'if I can find him.' So there you are, Mr. Gubb. Henry is in Riverbank, and I want Henry. This story about Henry being stolen is a lie. Henry is hid, and Gus Smith knows where."

Mr. Gubb looked at Mr. Watts thoughtfully.

"Now, if you're one of these fellers with a conscience," said Three-Finger, "you can send Henry back to the Sheriff. But I won't have Greasy Gus putting a trick like this over on me! No, sir!"

He shook hands with Mr. Gubb again and went out. It was fully fifteen minutes before Mr. Gus P. Smith, who must have been waiting across the street, came in. He closed the door and locked it.

"I saw old Three-Finger come out of this building," he said. "What did he want?"

"He came upon confidential business which can't be mentioned," said Mr. Gubb.

"Just so!" said Mr. Smith. "He wanted you to find Henry, the Educated Pig. Now, listen to me. I skipped out with that pig to do Three-Finger a favor and save part of his show for him, and that's the truth, but he don't believe it--not him! He called me a thief and worse, he did. He had the nerve to say I wanted that pig myself, to start in business with, and that's a lie. No man can insult me like that, Mr. Gubb. Look at this--"

He took from his pocket a couple of feet of whipcord and handed it to Philo Gubb.

"What is this?" asked Mr. Gubb.

"That's all that's left of Henry," said Greasy Gus. "That's his total remains up to date. That's the rope I led Henry with after I quit the wagon of a farmer that rode us out of Derlingport. That cord was tied to Henry's left hind foot. Look at the end without the knot--was that cut or wasn't it?"

"I most generally reserve my opinion until later than right at first,"

said Philo Gubb.

"All right, reserve it!" said Greasy Gus. "Looks to me like it was cut. No matter. The main thing I want is for you to find Henry. How's that?"

"Under them certain specifications," said Philo Gubb, "I can take up the case and get right to work onto it."

"All right, then," said Greasy Gus. "Now, here's what I know about it.

I got out of Derlingport with Henry, and when the farmer dumped us from his wagon I hitched this whipcord to Henry's leg and drove him along the road. After while I hit this town of Riverbank. I thought maybe the police would be looking for Henry. So I took to an alley instead of a regular street, and along we came. We came down the alley, and of a sudden I began to wonder what I'd do with Henry now I'd got him into town. It would look kind of suspicious for me and Henry to go to a hotel. 'I know what I'll do,' I says to myself: 'What I want to do is to go alone and rent a barn and say I'm thinking of buying a pig if I can get a place to keep him.' So that's what I did."

"You left the pig alone in the alley by itself?" asked Philo Gubb.

"Yes, sir!" said Mr. Smith. "I found an alley fence that had a staple in it, and I tied one end of the whipcord to the staple and went down the alley to find a barn I could put Henry in. About the fifth barn I tried I found a place for Henry and then I went back to get him, and he was gone!"

"And no clue?" asked Mr. Gubb.

"This tag end of the rope," said Greasy Gus. "And that's all I know about where Henry went, but my idee is somebody come along and seen him there and just thought he'd have a pig cheap."

"It's a pretty hard case to work onto," said Mr. Gubb doubtfully.

"Somebody might have come along with a wagon and loaded him in."

"Sure!" said Mr. Smith. "No telling at all. That's why I come to you.

If he was where I could fall over him, I wouldn't need a detective, would I? And if you find Henry I'll just give you these four five-dollar bills. I'm no millionaire, but I'll blow that much for the satisfaction of getting back at Three-Finger Watts. Is it a go?"