"You're darn tootin' he has! He came busting up here and asked me if I
knew anything about it. I suggested maybe it was mice, but that didn't
go over so big on account of mice don't generally build lead-covered
bungalows. So if he happens to ask you, you'd better--"
"Better," interrupted an irate voice from the doorway, "what?"
* * * * *
The two of us spun like drunks in a revolving door. It was Cap Hanson
himself, big as life and twice as furious. Biggs gulped.
"Oh--er--hello, Skipper. Sparks and I were just talking about--er--"
"About poetry," I finished. "Lanse was looking for a rhyme for--"
"Don't lie to me," blazed the skipper. "I heard what you was talkin'
about. _So_, Lancelot! It was _you_ tooken that container of seeds out
of the cargo!"