(xx) Five Hundred Bijou Tickets

Well sir, it's early evening as we enter the small house halfway up in the next block now. And here in the living room we find Mr. and Mrs. Victor Cook. Our friends are seated side by side on the Devon port, earnestly discussing a somewhat complex situation.

Listen. It's a very pretty problem. Isn't it though? Some Indians are now. It's a person has a piece to say what's right and what's wrong. Well, let's go to the base of the matter. To begin with, do those 500 theater tickets there in the library table actually belong to Gumbox?

Sure. Why did he? Because he found him in Mr. Furman's garbage box. Mr. Furman, of course, is the manager of the baijung. It is to be assumed that Mr. Furman threw the tickets away. Of course, he threw him away.

They were in the garbage box along with potato peelons and trash. But why do you suppose he threw him away? Probably because they're dirty. You can see yourself how faded and grimy and old I look.

Is it Mr. Gumpox's contention that anything he finds in the garbage boxes along the route is indisputably his property? Well, finders, keepers, you know. Yeah, but suppose you owned a diamond studded picklefork and by accident it found its way to the garbage box.

Would you recognize Gumpox's claim to that diamond studded picklefork in a relinquish all rights? Oh, of course not. Anything valuable, he'd return. Those theater tickets are just old paper. They're old paper, but they represent considerable value.

Yes, that's true. What's it cost to go to the value? Twenty-five cents for adults. And those tickets there on the library table are adult tickets. Well, holy smoke, do you realize what they're worth? No.