Tam O' the Scoots

into his little "bunk" and opened it. The stripping of the rough outer packing revealed a suave, unpolished cedar cabinet with two doors and a key that dangled from one of the knobs. Tam opened the case after some consideration and disclosed shelf upon shelf tightly packed with bundles of rich, brown, fragrant cigars. There was a card inscribed: "Your friend in the Merman pusher." "Who," demanded Tam, "is ma low ac- queentance, who dispoorts himsel' in an oot-o'-date machine?" Young Carter, who had come in to inspect the unpacking, offered a suggestion. "Probably the French machine that is always coming over here to see you," he said, "Mr. Thiggamy-tight, the American." "Ah, to be sure!" said Tam relieved. "A' thocht maybe the Kaiser had sent me droogged seegairs?A'm an awfu' thorn in the puir laddie's side. Ye may laugh, Mister Carter, but A' reca' a case wheer a bon- nie detective wi' the same name as ye'sel', though A' doot if he wis related to ye, was foiled by the machinations o' Ferdie the Foorger at the moment o' his triumph by the lad gieing him a seegair soaked in laud'- num an' chlorofor-rm!" He took a bundle, slipped out two cigars, offered one to his officer, after a brief but baffling examination to discover which was the worse, and lit the other. "They're no' so bad," he admitted, "but yeer ain seegairs never taste so bonnie as the seegairs yeer frien's loan ye." "They came in time," said Carter; "we'd started a League...