I had no idea there were so many small boys
in the world until I was arrested, and found myself the cynosure of a
million or more innocent blue eyes."
[Illustration]
"Were they all blue-eyed?" I queried, thinking the point interesting from
a scientific point of view, hoping to discover that curiosity of a morbid
character was always found in connection with eyes of a specified hue.
"Oh no; I fancy not," returned my host. "But to a man with a load of
another fellow's spoons in his possession, and a pair of handcuffs on his
wrists, everything looks blue."
"I don't doubt it," I replied. "But--er--just how, now, could you defend
yourself when every bit of evidence, and--you will excuse me for saying
so--conclusive evidence at that, pointed to your guilt?"
"The spoons were a gift," he answered.
"But the owner denied that."
"I know it; that's where the beastly part of it all came in. They were not
given to me by the owner, but by a lot of mean, low-down,
practical-joke-loving ghosts.
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