Part 25 (1/2)

”Will somebody call a policeman?” asked Vincent.

A policeman soon made his appearance. He was a stout, burly man, and pushed his way through the crowd without ceremony.

”What's the row?” he inquired.

”This boy has picked a lady's pocket,” exclaimed Vincent.

The officer placed his hand roughly on Tom's shoulder.

”You were a little too smart, young feller!” said he. ”You must come along with me.”

”I didn't take the money,” protested Tom, pale, but in a firm voice.

”That's too thin,” said Vincent, with a sneer.

”Yes, it's too thin,” repeated two or three in the crowd.

”It's true,” said Tom.

”Perhaps you'll tell us how the money came in your pocket,” suggested a bystander.

”That man put it in,” answered Tom, indicating Vincent.

The latter shrugged his shoulders.

”He says so, because I exposed him,” he remarked, turning to the crowd.

”Of course; that's a common game,” interposed the policeman.

”Have you any reason for what you say, my boy?” asked a quiet-looking man, with a pleasant face.

”Of course he hasn't,” replied Vincent hastily.

”I spoke to the boy, sir.”

”I have a reason,” answered Tom. ”A friend of this man roomed with me at Pittsburg, and during the night tried to rob me. We were both pa.s.sengers on the _River Belle_ on the last trip. During the trip he entered our stateroom, and stole a wallet from my roommate. This man slyly put it into my pocket, in order to escape suspicion.”

”It's a lie!” exclaimed Vincent uneasily. ”Gentlemen, the boy is very artful, and the greatest liar out.”

”Of course he is!” a.s.sented the policeman. ”Come along, young feller!”

”Wait a minute,” said the quiet man. ”Have you any proof of your statements, my boy, except your own word?”

”Yes, sir; my roommate will tell you the same thing.”

”Who is he? Where can he be found?”

”He is Mr. Nicholas Waterbury, of Marietta. He is now at the Burnet House.”

”That's all gammon!” said the officer roughly. ”Come along. I can't wait here all day.”