MR. CROSSCRAB IS ROBBED
Jimmy was in despair. He did not see how he was going to convince the
sergeant in the station-house that he was innocent of the charge.
Certainly to the policeman and the Italian it did look as if Jimmy had
deliberately jumped on the cart, thus upsetting it.
And another matter worried Jimmy. He knew that if the stories of the
policeman and peddler were believed he would probably be locked up over
night for a hearing before the magistrate the next morning. Meanwhile
who would look after Dick?
"Crimps! but this is bad luck!" thought Jimmy. "If I only had some one
to go my bail maybe I could get off."
But he could think of no one on whom he might call. Jimmy's
acquaintance was not among those capable of signing bail bonds.
A big crowd had gathered when the arrest was made, and Jimmy looked in
vain among the throng for some friendly person by whom he could send
word to Mr. Snowden of his plight He thought the manager might be able
to help him.
Then when the officer led him away quite a number of newsboys and
bootblacks followed. Reaching the precinct station-house, Jimmy was
taken inside and made to stand in front of the big brass railing
surrounding the desk, while the sergeant prepared to hear what the
policeman had to say.
"Here's a kid that upset the Italian's cart," explained the bluecoat.
"I seen him do it."
"Dat's a'right, Mr. Police," added the peddler. "He badda de boy.
Knocka alla de banan in de streeta."
"What's your name?" asked the sergeant, drawing the blotter, or slate,
toward him. On this were written the names of prisoners, and Jimmy,
who had often been in station-houses when men were locked up, knew what
was coming next.
"You're not going to lock me up, are you?" he asked.
"That's what we are," replied the sergeant. "This business of annoying
the Italians has got to stop." He was only carrying out the orders of
his superiors.
"But I didn't do it."
"Well, you can prove that to the judge in the morning and he'll let you
go."
"Sure he done it," repeated the policeman. "I seen him."
Which was true enough as far as it went. The officer was honestly
mistaken, as was the Italian. The sergeant wrote down Jimmy's name and
other information which the lad gave.
"Anybody go your bail?" and the sergeant looked up on asking the usual
question, for in such minor offenses as this he was empowered to take
bail for prisoners.
"If you could send to Mr. Snowden, manager of the Newsboys' Lodging
House, I'm sure he would," said Jimmy.
"Got any money to pay for a messenger?"
"Sure," and the newsboy hauled out a handful of change.
"All right," remarked the sergeant indifferently. "Doorman, lock him
up and then call a messenger for him."
Even though he was to be locked in a cell, Jimmy did not mind it so
much, now that there was a chance to get word to Mr. Snowden. He was
searched, his money being all that was returned to him, his knife and
some other possessions being retained by the sergeant until he should
be bailed or discharged. Then the doorman summoned a district
messenger boy, to whom Jimmy talked through the bars of his cell,
instructing him to inform Mr. Snowden what had happened and ask him to
come to the police-station.
Meanwhile the policeman had gone back on his beat, and the Italian,
having been instructed to appear at court in the morning, was allowed
to go. He had left his cart in front of the station-house, and his
stock of bananas was much less when he came out, as the temptation of
the fruit had been too much for the crowd of boys.
Mr. Snowden came promptly in response to Jimmy's request, and soon
arranged for bail for the lad. So a few hours after he was arrested
Jimmy was free again, but he would have to be tried in the morning.
"I'd advise you," said the sergeant, who took more interest in Jimmy's
case when he heard from the lodging-house superintendent what sort of a
lad the newsboy was, "to hunt up these two chaps you say pushed you.
If you see them call a policeman and have them arrested. You can make
a charge against them."
"But will a cop--I mean a policeman--arrest them on my say-so?" asked
Jimmy.
"I guess so. Wait, I'll give you a note, and you can show it to the
officer nearest at hand when you see those two chaps," and the sergeant
wrote out a note for Jimmy.
Then with Mr. Snowden the boy left the station-house, his mind made up
to search for Mike and Bulldog and cause their arrest. And this was
not so much because he was vindictive as that he wanted to be cleared
of the unjust charge.
"How's Dick?" asked Jimmy of the lodging-house manager.
"Not quite so well," was the grave answer. "But don't worry. I guess
he'll be all right."
"I suppose I'd better go back and take care of him instead of chasing
after Mike and Bulldog."
"No, perhaps it will be well for you to stay away. He will be sure to
question you, and if he hears of your arrest it might excite him. I
will tell him you are all right, but that you have some business to
attend to. Meanwhile you can look for those two young rowdies. I hope
you find them. I'll look out for Dick; so don't worry."
After a hasty supper Jimmy set out to find the two bullies, with the
note from the sergeant safe in his pocket. He knew where Mike and
Bulldog usually were to be found at night--in the neighborhood of some
of the moving picture shows--and thither Jimmy went.
As he walked down the Bowery he saw a crowd in front of a
brilliantly-lighted store, the proprietor of which, to draw trade, had
installed a small cage of monkeys. There was quite a throng of men and
boys watching the antics of the creatures.
As Jimmy approached the outer line of people he saw, standing close
together near the window, the two bullies whom he sought. This was
unexpected good luck, and he looked around for a policeman. He saw one
not far off, and then seeing a newsboy whom he knew, Jimmy quietly
whispered to the latter to summon the officer.
"What fer?" asked the lad.
"You'll see in a minute. There's going to be some fun."
For Jimmy had made up his mind to grab both the bullies and hold them
until the officer could arrive, regardless of what they might do to
him, though he knew they would beat and kick him in an endeavor to get
away. But he calculated it could not last long, as just before he
prepared to tackle the two he saw the officer start toward the throng.
"Now for it," said Jimmy in a whisper to himself.
But just then something most unexpected happened. As Jimmy crept
closer to the two unsuspecting ones he saw the hand of Mike Conroy slip
into the pocket of a man standing near him. Softly and slowly the hand
was inserted, and a moment later it was withdrawn, holding a pocketbook.
"He's picking that man's pocket!" thought Jimmy. "Now I can make
another charge against him."
He made a sudden grab for Mike. At the same instant the man who had
been robbed turned around, for he felt some movement in his pocket.
"Mr. Crosscrab!" exclaimed Jimmy, as he saw the man's face.
"Why, Jimmy, I've been looking for you!" cried the young man. "But
what's this? My pocketbook!"
For he saw it in Mike's hand, which Jimmy held in a firm grasp.
"He stole it!" cried Jimmy.
"I did not! I found it on de sidewalk, an' I were jest goin' t' hand
it back t' him!" cried the bully.
"Hold him, Mr. Crosscrab!" cried Jimmy, making a grab for Bulldog, who,
seeing how matters were going, was trying to sneak away. Mr. Crosscrab
acted promptly, and Mike struggled in vain to get loose.
"Let me go or I'll smash youse a good one!" threatened Bulldog, but
Jimmy held grimly on.
"What's the row?" asked the policeman, hurrying through the crowd that
had encircled the four.
"He tried to rob me," explained Mr. Crosscrab, and it was very evident,
for the pocketbook had fallen to the sidewalk when Mike opened his hand.
"All right. I'll take him in. You'll have to come along and make a
charge."
"I'll do it."
"And I want this one arrested!" exclaimed Jimmy.
"What for?" and the officer looked surprised. "Are there two of 'em?"
"This fellow upset an Italian's cart by pushing me into it to-day,"
explained Jimmy, keeping hold of Bulldog despite the latter's efforts
to get away. "I was arrested for it, and the sergeant said I should
have him and Mike locked up as witnesses. Here's a note," and with
much difficulty Jimmy took it out and handed it to the policeman.
"I didn't do it. It was Mike," declared Bulldog.
"Youse done it yerself," said Mike.
The policeman quickly read the note. Meanwhile Mr. Crosscrab had been
holding Mike, and the crowd was now so thick that Bulldog had no chance
to escape, even if he had dared risk it with an officer at hand.
"All right. I'll lock 'em both up," said the officer, taking one arm
of each of the prisoners. "Make way there. I'll ring for the wagon."
"I'll do it for you," volunteered Jimmy, for he had once opened a
patrol box and sent in a call for a policeman who had his hands full
with a refractory prisoner.
"All right. You're a smart kid. Here's my key," and the bluecoat
passed it over, temporarily letting go of Mike, but grabbing him again
as the thief started to run.
Meanwhile Mr. Crosscrab had picked up his pocketbook, and with Jimmy
followed the officer and his two prisoners, while the crowd trailed
along in the rear. The patrol box was soon reached and Jimmy sent in
the call. In a few minutes the wagon arrived, and Mike and Bulldog,
both protesting their innocence, were taken to the station-house.