JULIUS DETECTS A PICKPOCKET.
Ned Sanders settled himself into his seat, and looked about him. He did
not, however, recognize Julius, for, though he had seen him in calling
upon Jack Morgan, he had never taken particular notice of his features,
probably regarding him as of little importance. Finally Mr. Sanders
devoted special attention to the man at his side. As the latter was
sleeping, he was not conscious of the close watch of his companion.
Julius noticed it, however, and, being familiar with the character of
Sanders, said to himself: “I know what he’s up to. He wants to pick his
pocket.”
From the watch pocket of the stout stranger depended a gold watch chain
solid and valuable in appearance, and to it was attached a gold watch.
Sanders took out a newspaper, and held it before him. He appeared to be
very much occupied with its contents, but Julius detected a stealthy
glance at his companion’s waistcoat.
“This is gettin’ excitin’,” thought Julius. “He won’t wait long.”
Julius was right. Ned Sanders felt that now was the favorable
opportunity to carry out his unlawful purpose, while his neighbor was
asleep, as when his nap was over he would more readily detect his
intentions.
With his paper still before his face, his hand crept softly to the watch
chain, which he gently appropriated, dropping it into his coat pocket.
But he was not yet satisfied. He was preparing to relieve the other of
his pocketbook also, when Julius thought it was about time to interfere.
Rising in his seat, he struck the stout man forcibly on the back. The
latter started, and opening his eyes said, “What! Eh, what do you want?
Is it morning?”
The pickpocket started also, and looked uneasy, but retained his seat,
not suspecting that he had been detected. His uneasiness arose from the
fear that his neighbor, on awakening, would immediately miss his watch,
which would be awkward and perhaps dangerous for him. He was vexed with
Julius, whom he did not yet recognize, for this interference with his
plans.
“Can’t you let the gentleman alone?” he said angrily. “Why do you
disturb him?”
“What’s the matter?” said his victim, in his turn, a little irritated.
“What do you mean by thumping my back, boy?”
“I wanted to ask you what time it is,” said Julius, quietly.
“Well, that’s cool,” grumbled the stout man. “You wake me up out of a
nap to ask me what time of day it is.”
Sanders turned pale when Julius asked this question, for he saw that
discovery was imminent. He half arose from his seat, but it occurred to
him that that would only fasten suspicion upon him. Moreover the train
was going at the rate of twenty-five miles an hour, and, though he might
go into another car, he could not escape from the train. He closed his
lips tightly, and tried to look calm and indifferent. He had determined
to brazen it out.
Notwithstanding his grumbling rejoinder, the stout man felt for his
watch. Now it was his turn to start and look dismayed.
“By jove, it’s gone!” he ejaculated.
“What’s the matter, sir?” asked Julius.
“My watch and chain are gone. Do you know anything about them, boy?”
“I think you had better put that question to the man you’re sittin’
with.”
“What do you mean by that, you young rascal?” demanded Ned Sanders, pale
with passion and dismay. “I think, sir, the boy behind you has taken
your watch.”
“I don’t see how he could do that,” said the other, regarding him
suspiciously. “Can you tell me where my watch is sir?”
“What should I know of your watch? Do you mean to insult me, sir?”
blustered the pickpocket.
His manner increased the suspicions of his victim, who recognized, by
his appearance and flashy attire, the class to which he belonged. He
turned to Julius, and asked, “What made you refer to this gentleman?”
“Because,” said Julius bluntly, “I saw him take it. He held up the paper
before him, while he loosened your chain. He’s got it in his pocket
now.”
“That is sufficient. Now, sir,” he said sternly, “I command you
instantly to return my watch and chain.”
“I haven’t got it. The boy lies,” said Sanders, furiously.
By this time, most of the passengers in the car had gathered around the
two. Just at this moment, too, the conductor entered.
“What’s the matter, gentlemen?” he asked.
“This man has stolen my watch,” said the stout man.
“It’s a ---- lie!” said Sanders.
“Are you willing to show us what you have in your pockets?” said the
conductor.
“No, I’m not. I am a New York merchant, and I won’t submit to an
impertinence.”
“Where is your place of business?”
“In Pearl Street,” answered Sanders, quite at random.
“Have you one of your business cards with you?”
“I believe so.”
He felt in his pocket, and appeared surprised at finding none.
“I believe I have none with me,” he admitted. “I generally have some.”
“What’s your business?”
“I’m in the clothing business?” said Sanders, with some hesitation.
“What is your name?”
“I won’t answer any more questions,” said the pickpocket, desperately.
“You have insulted me enough, all of you. Just make way, will you? I am
going to get out.”
The cars had just stopped at a way station.
Sanders attempted to arise, but his victim seized him by the arm.
“You don’t leave this car till you have surrendered my watch,” he said.
“Let go, or I’ll strike you,” said Sanders, losing his prudence in his
anger.
“You can’t get out till you have been searched,” said the conductor.
“Who is the boy that saw him take the watch?”
“I did,” said Julius.
“Where did he put it? Did you notice?”
“In his left breast pocket.”
“Show us what you have in that pocket.”
Sanders hesitated? and then drew out a handkerchief.
“There, I hope you are satisfied,” he said.
Meantime his neighbor, pressing his hand against the pocket on the
outside, exclaimed triumphantly:
“He’s got the watch. I can feel it.”
The thief uttered a profane ejaculation, and made a desperate effort to
arise, but three men threw themselves upon him, two holding him down,
while the other drew out the watch and chain, and handed them to their
owner.
“Now will you let me go?” demanded Sanders, doggedly. He felt that it
would do no good to indulge in further protestations of innocence.
“No,” said the conductor. “Gentlemen, will you guard him till we reach
the next station? Then I will place him in the hands of an officer.”
“Boy,” said Sanders, turning around, and glaring fiercely at Julius, “I
shan’t forget you. Some time I’ll make you repent what you’ve done
to-day.”
“Don’t mind him, my lad,” said the stout man, elated by the recovery of
his property. “You’ve done exactly right. But how came you to suspect
this man?”
“Because I knew him,” said Julius.
Here Sanders turned around, and scanned our hero’s face sharply.
“That’s a lie!” he said.
“It’s not a lie, Mr. Ned Sanders,” said Julius. “I’ve seen you more than
once.”
Again Sanders scanned his features sharply. This time a light dawned
upon him.
“I know you now,” he said; “you’re Jack Morgan’s boy.”
“I was,” said Julius.
“Have you left him?”
“Yes.”
“Where are you going?”
“Out West.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t want to tell me.”
“No, I don’t. I don’t care about receiving a visit from you.”
“I’ll hunt you up, and pay off old debts. I shouldn’t be in this scrape
but for you,” said Sanders, vindictively.
He relapsed into a moody silence, and said nothing more while in the
car. At the next station, which was an important place, two officers
were summoned, who took him into custody. But he managed to elude their
vigilance some hours later and escaped to New York.