"'A Clever Haul!'" he quoted. "'Noted
band of crooks elude New York police, but are captured by Forbes
Kinney.'" He sighed contentedly. "And they'll probably print my picture,
too," he added.
I knew I should be angry with him, but instead I could only feel sorry.
I have known Kinney for a year, and I have learned that his
"make-believe" is always innocent. I suppose that he is what is called a
snob, but with him snobbishness is not an unpleasant weakness. In his
case it takes the form of thinking that people who have certain things
he does not possess are better than himself; and that, therefore, they
must be worth knowing, and he tries to make their acquaintance. But he
does not think that he himself is better than any one. His life is very
bare and narrow. In consequence, on many things he places false values.
As, for example, his desire to see his name in the newspapers even as an
amateur detective. So, while I was indignant I also was sorry.
"Joe," I said, "you're going to get yourself into an awful lot of
trouble, and though I am not in this adventure, you know if I can help
you I will."
He thanked me and we went to the dining-saloon.
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