"Buck up," said the Colonel. "Tidings of great joy. Here's the lost sheep, crawling right into your bosom. What are you doing in the wine cellar?"
"Search me, buddy," said the sergeant peevishly. "I'd like to get my hooks on that bird in the Knights of Pythias clothes. He got me railroaded into this jug—Who'n hell are you?"
"I'm the guy you're looking for."
"The hell you are! Wait a minute, where's my papers"
"Here," said the Colonel, taking a pulpy document from his pocket. "I'm sorry it got wet. It was the fault of that Knight of Pythias."
The M.P. examined the paper and then held up the candle to look at the Colonel.
"Your hesitation is natural," said Cointreau. "The photo doesn't do me justice."
"I guess it's you. Well, you're under arrest, see?"
"Romsteck, it's a pity you don't savvy
