Griffin subdued, the Millionaire Baby still remained. The problem was a knotty one, for as Bellefont was still of sub-stature the means of correction were limited.
"What worries your Majesty?" said Dennis de Brian de Boru, perceiving Stover in stern meditation. "Is it that beautiful specimen of flunky-raised squab entitled the Millionaire Baby?"
"It is," said Dink. Between him and Dennis peace had long since been concluded.
"He is a very precious hothouse flower," said Dennis sarcastically.
"He is the most useless, pestiferous, conceited little squirt I ever saw," said Dink.
"But I'll get that flunky smell out of him yet!"
"The pity is he has such fat, juicy boxes from home."
"What are you going to do? You can't take 'em by force."
"Still," said Dennis regretfully, "he's so young it is just ruining his little digestion."
They sat a moment deliberating. Finally Dink spoke rapturously:
"I have it. We'll organize the Kennedy Customs House."
"Everything imported must pass the Customs House."
"You said pass," said Dennis obstinately. "I don't like that word."
"Aha!" said Dennis brightening. "Very high duties?"
"The maximum duty on luxuries," said Dink. "We're all good Republicans, aren't we?"
"I am, if I can write the tariff schedule," said Dennis, who, as may be seen, was orthodox.
When, on the following week, young Bellefont received his regular installment of high-priced indigestibles he was amazed to see the Gutter Pup and Lovely Mead appear with solemn demeanor.
"Hello," said the Millionaire Baby, placing himself in front of the half-open box.
"See these badges," said Lovely Mead, pointing to their caps, around which were displayed white bandages inscribed "inspector."
"And we have received information that you are systematically smuggling goods into this territory."
The Millionaire Baby looked as though a ghost had arisen.
"Aha!" said the Gutter Pup, perceiving the box. "Here's the evidence now. Officer, seize the goods and the prisoner."
"What are you going to do to me?" said the culprit in great alarm.
The Customs Court was sitting, without absentees, in Stover's room--appraisers, weighers, adjusters and consulting experts, all legally ticketed and very solemn. The prisoner was stood in a corner and the contents of the box spread on the floor.