The head of the Tariff Department laughed when he read Flannery's letter. He read it again and became serious. "By George!" he said. "Flannery is right. Pigs is pigs. I'll have to get something official on this." He spoke to the president of the company. The president treated the matter lightly. "What is the rate on pigs and on pets?" he asked. "Pigs thirty cents, pets twenty-five," the head of the Tariff Department answered. "Then of course guinea pigs are pigs," the president said. "Yes," the head of the Tariff Department agreed. "I look at it that way too. A thing that can come under two rates is naturally to be charged at the higher one. But are guinea pigs, pigs? Aren't they rabbits?" "Come to think of it," the president said, "I believe they are more like rabbits. Sort of half-way between pig and rabbit. I think the question is this – are guinea pigs of the domestic pig family? I'll ask Professor Gordon. He is an expert about such things." The president wrote to Professor Gordon. Unfortunately, the professor was in South America collecting zoological samples. His wife forwarded the letter to him. The professor was in the High Andes Mountains. The letter took many months to reach him. In time, the president forgot the guinea pigs. The head of the Tariff Department forgot them. Mr. Morehouse forgot them. But agent Flannery did not. The guinea pigs had increased to thirty-two. He asked the head of the Tariff Department what he should do with them. "Don't sell the pigs," agent Flannery was told. "They are not your property. Take care of them until the case is settled." The guinea pigs needed more room. Flannery made a large and airy room for them in the back of his office. Some months later he discovered he now had one hundred sixty of them. He was going out of his mind.