"Now answer me this, never mind anything else; we'll drop a plumb-line right down to the bottom of this thing and have no beating round the bush--" "I beat lots of bushes for rabbits," Pee-wee vociferated.
"Well, don't beat any here.

Now" (the justice spoke slowly and emphatically, shaking a long finger with each word), "_who--owns--that--car_?
Careful now." "Mr.Bartlett, where I live--in Bridgeboro." "Sure of that ?" "Sure I'm sure; didn't I--" "Never mind what you did.

Now what's this Mr.Bartlett's full name?
Now--_now!_" he added warningly, "just you answer the question I ask you and leave the rest to me.

If you tell the truth you won't get in any trouble." Pee-wee, somewhat awed, at last subsided.

"Mr.James Bartlett," he said.
[Illustration: PEE-WEE BEFORE THE JUSTICE OF THE PEACE.] Without another word, Mr.Fee drew in his long legs, arose, went over to where a book was hanging, looked in it, then took the receiver from the old-fashioned box telephone on the wall.