some of the pickles, she said, if it turned out that there were more of the same kind for sale. I went to three women in turn. No success at all.[21] But here’s an important point, Jerry: Every woman who sampled the pickles wanted to buy some. So you can see the big money that’s waiting for us if we can find out who this unknown pickle genius is and win her over to our scheme.”

[21]

There’s nothing I like better than mystery stuff.

“What’ll you give me,” I laughed, “if I find out who the pickle maker is?”

“I’ll make you president of the company.”

“No,” I shook my head, “that’s your job. For it’s your idea.”

“Well, vice-president then.”

“All we’ve got to do,” I showed my stuff, “is to get a list of the women who contributed pickles to the church sale and then check off the names until we come to the right one.”

“That would be fine if there was such a list. But there isn’t, for I inquired. As I understand it, the newspaper invited people in general to bring cookies and other stuff to the sale, which explains how the pickles happened to be brought in. Evidently some one just walked in with them, and after setting them down quietly walked out again.”

“Then,” says I, as a second lead, “we’ll advertise in the newspaper. Or if that doesn’t do the trick, we’ll make a house to house canvass.”

It was close to eleven o’clock now. And thinking that maybe Mrs. Clayton would want her pickles[22] for dinner, we filled a bottle of the same size as the one that had been broken and hurried down the street to the factory district, where we saw young Pennykorn’s classy car, together with several others, parked in a vacant lot across the street from the canning company’s office. Just beyond was an old-fashioned house well shut in by untrimmed trees and ragged bushes, a familiar place to Poppy, for he had worked here painting porches when he first came to town. At sight of the sleepy-looking house it suddenly popped into my head who the old man was whom I had noticed in the bank. It was old Mr. Weckler, the widower who had so generously and unexpectedly put up the money for the big assembly cabin in our Boy Scout camp. I had seen him once or twice in camp. So in a way it was strange that I hadn’t recognized him right off. Still, a fellow can’t remember every face that he sees. I’ll never forget the 

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