Part 6 (1/2)

In another moment the fleeing one had darted around the corner.

Five members of d.i.c.k & Co., angry all the way through, were the first to reach that corner.

”There he goes, down the alley-way to the livery stable!” roared Dave Darrin. ”After him, fellows!”

But by the time that the five reached the stable yard the fugitive was out of sight. Men hurried up, and a quick search was made of the neighborhood. It was soon certain, however, that the fellow had made good use of his time and had gotten away. Two policemen who were among the latest arrivals on the scene gave it as their opinion that further chase would be worse than useless.

So d.i.c.k's chums turned back, to see how their leader had fared.

Dr. Bentley was leaning over the boy, who, white and lifeless, lay at the edge of the sidewalk.

”Take him to the drug store, doctor,” urged one of the women.

”He'll revive quicker in the open air, madam,” answered the physician.

”Is young Prescott very badly hurt?”

”I can't tell yet,” said Dr. Bentley. ”There doesn't seem to be any fracture of the bone at the point where he was struck. And the back of his head seems to be sound and whole. I think Master d.i.c.k is simply stunned.”

Dr. Bentley stepped over to his auto, took out a drug case and selected a vial from it.

”Get me a gla.s.s of water, someone, and promptly,” he directed.

The water was quickly brought. After pouring a few drops from the vial into it, the medical man supported d.i.c.k's head and poured some of the stuff into his mouth.

After a short time d.i.c.k opened his eyes.

”Wh-what kicked me?” he asked slowly.

”The fist of that gentleman with soap-made fits,” replied the physician dryly. ”Take a few deep breaths, Prescott. Now, a little more from the gla.s.s. Breathe hard again. There, do you feel as though you'd like to get on your feet?”

”Certainly,” d.i.c.k replied.

Dr. Bentley helped him to his feet, supporting him and urging him to try to walk a little. At about this time Dave and the others returned at a trot.

”d.i.c.k, I guess you saved some of us from losing more in the way of valuables,” smiled the medical man grimly. ”For one, I'm ashamed of myself. A man who has been practising medicine more than twenty years should know too much to be taken in by sham fits on the part of a thief who plays his trick in order to rob a crowd of Christmas shoppers.”

”You think he meant to rob us, then, doctor?” pressed a woman in the crowd.

”That fellow certainly did mean to do it,” replied Dr. Bentley with emphasis. ”It's an old trick in a crowd--this sort of sham sickness.”

”And he got all my Christmas money--every cent of it--and carried it off with him!” wailed one woman, who looked as though she could not afford to lose much money.

”He s.n.a.t.c.hed my locket with the diamond in it!” vengefully exclaimed another woman, exhibiting the broken ends of a neck chain.

”My purse is gone. I had forty-two dollars in it.”

”I didn't get off very lightly, ladies,” replied Dr. Bentley. ”My scarf pin wasn't so extremely valuable, but I feel badly about the watch, and I shall feel worse when I realize its loss more fully. That was my father's watch, and I valued it above money.”

”The police ought to catch that scoundrel,” declared one of the women losers.