THE CAPTURE
Arnold’s gaze sped in the direction indicated, but for an instant the
crowd interfered. “Are you sure?” he asked incredulously.
“Yes,” whispered Toby. “I saw him! Now look, Arn!”
Well, whether he was the man who had taken Toby’s purse or not, at
least he tallied surprisingly with Toby’s description. He was standing
with his back to the counter in front of a fan-shaped display of
ladies’ umbrellas, looking impatiently and frowningly about him for
all the world like a man kept waiting at an appointment. So well did
he look the part, in fact, that Arnold was quite certain that Toby
must be wrong. But a closer examination of the man convinced him that
he was only acting, for the eyes under the pulled-down brim of a black
felt hat darted swiftly hither and thither, reminding Arnold too much
of a hawk. Some twenty feet of aisle space, crowded with shoppers,
separated the boys from the man in the brown overcoat, and it was
only by raising himself on his tiptoes that Arnold could catch brief
glimpses of the latter.
“What are you going to do?” Arnold whispered excitedly.
Toby deliberated. Then he shook his head. “I don’t know. If there was a
policeman here――”
“They have detectives in these stores, I think,” said the other. “Only
I don’t know how a fellow would know one if he saw him.”
“I might keep an eye on him while you found a policeman,” suggested
Toby, doubtfully.
“Suppose he went off before I got the officer, though?”
“That’s the trouble. We might ask a clerk to send for one, or――or find
the proprietor――”
But the man in the brown overcoat settled the matter then and there by
leaving his place at the counter and mingling with the outgoing throng.
More by luck than anything else, Arnold saw and tugged Toby’s coat
sleeve. “Come on!” he said quickly. “He’s going!”
The boys hurried toward the door, or tried to hurry, but their quarry
was lost to sight for a moment and when they reached the sidewalk
nothing was to be seen of him.
“Which way?” demanded Arnold.
Toby, craning his head, dodging about, pushed and scowled at, was at
a loss, and the adventure would have ended there and then had not
Arnold’s gaze caught a brief flash of light brown between the jostling
throng. “I think I see him,” he cried. “Come on, Toby!” He pushed his
way to the edge of the broad sidewalk, Toby following at his heels,
just in time to see the man disappear behind a car at the far side
of the street. Without pause they dashed after. That they escaped
injury in the seething traffic was only by the veriest good fortune.
An automobile almost ran them down half-way across, a trolley car
ground its brakes in seeming chagrin as they leaped out of its path,
and, after that, they were forced to remain marooned between track and
curbing for many moments before a tiny break in the line of vehicles
allowed them to squeeze through.
As might have been expected, by the time they found themselves on the
sidewalk, very much out of breath, the brown overcoat was once more
gone from view, and although they gazed up and down the street no
glimpse of it rewarded them. Toby’s countenance took on an expression
of despair that was almost ludicrous and Arnold fretted and fumed.
“If we hadn’t been held up out there we’d have caught him,” he declared
as they stood undecidedly on the edge of the sidewalk. “Now he’s gone
for good, I guess.”
Toby nodded dolorous assent. “I wish I’d just gone up and grabbed hold
of him when I had the chance,” he said. “Which way was he going, do you
think?”
“He wasn’t going any way. He was headed straight across the street.”
“Why, then――” Toby stopped and ran his gaze over the fronts of the
buildings. Almost opposite where they stood was the entrance of a
small, third-rate hotel. “I’ll bet he went in there,” said Toby with
conviction. “Maybe he lives there.”
Arnold viewed the hostelry and shook his head. “I wouldn’t be surprised
if that is just where he went, but I don’t believe he lives there.
Perhaps if we wait awhile he will come out again. What do you think?”
“I guess it’s all we can do,” replied Toby. “But we had better get
out of sight a little more, for if he came out and saw us he might
recognize me and run.”
The suggestion was a good one since this side of the thoroughfare was
far less crowded and their present position was in fair view of the
entrance. So they retired to a near-by doorway from which, by peering
around the corner of a plate-glass window, they could watch the hotel
entrance. It promised to be tiresome work and there were all sorts
of things happening every minute to distract their gaze. But Fortune
favored them again and very shortly, for they had been there less than
five minutes when Toby uttered a warning hiss and Arnold, whose gaze
had wandered for an instant, looked around in time to see the man
in the brown overcoat emerge from the hotel. He paused for a moment
outside the doorway and speculatively looked up and down the street.
Finally he turned eastward and strolled unhurriedly toward them. The
boys withdrew further into their doorway, turning their backs and
becoming on the instant extremely interested in the window display. But
the man didn’t even glance in their direction and as soon as he had
passed the boys slipped out from concealment and followed.
During the next seven or eight minutes, which time the man consumed
in reaching the corner, there were many pauses. Their quarry paused
frequently to look into windows or survey the passers. Once he stopped
and backed up against a building while his gaze speculatively followed
two richly-dressed women. But apparently he decided that the women
presented small chance for the display of his talents, for he went on
again. All the time the boys looked anxiously for a policeman, but a
policeman when wanted is an extremely rare thing, and not one appeared
in sight all the way along the block. At the corner the traffic signal
was set at “Stop” and the man in the brown overcoat paused just back
of the curb, one of an impatient throng of a dozen or so persons.
Toby and Arnold stopped at a discreet distance. In the center of the
intersecting thoroughfares, in command of the traffic signal, was a
very tall and very efficient-looking policeman. The boys consulted
hurriedly. Then they advanced toward the man in the brown overcoat. The
northward and southward streams of hurrying vehicles continued. Toby
drew up at the man’s right and Arnold on his other side. It was Toby
who opened negotiations.
“We were going to point you out to the policeman,” he said softly,
trying to keep his voice steady, “but we decided to give you a chance
first.”
The man turned and scowled down with shifty eyes.
“What do you want?” he demanded threateningly.
“My purse and eight dollars and fifty cents,” said Toby. “If you try to
get away we’ll grab you and yell. Keep close, Arn!”
The pickpocket glanced swiftly around at Arnold who was pressing
closely against his left shoulder. Then his eyes darted up and down the
avenue. At that moment the crossing officer’s whistle sounded shrilly
and the signal turned. The little throng by the curb surged forward and
with a sudden dart the man followed. But Toby had seized one arm and
Arnold the other, and not fifty feet away was the policeman. The man
in the brown overcoat tried, with a snarl, to throw off his captors,
but they clung like leeches, and fearing to attract embarrassing
attention the man slowed down to a hurried walk. Three abreast, the
boys clinging affectionately to him, they crossed the street. Once
across the pickpocket stopped of his own choice.
“What is this?” he asked indignantly. “A hold-up?”
“If you want to call it that,” answered Toby steadily. “All I want is
the purse you stole from my pocket in Eastman’s. You hand it over and
we’ll let you go.”
“Aw, I never saw you before,” snarled the man. “Get out of here before
I hand you something, kids. It won’t be no purse, neither!” He tugged
in an effort to free himself from their grasps, but they held on hard.
“Want us to shout?” asked Arnold significantly. The man’s belligerent
gaze wavered. He cast a swift and dubious look toward the officer.
“Well, what is it you want?” he muttered.
“You know,” said Toby. “A small yellow coin-purse with eight dollars
in it. Come on, now. You’d better be sensible.”
“I ain’t got any purse, honest. You can search me, boys!”
“Then you threw it away,” responded Toby. “It cost me seventy-five
cents, but it was sort of ripping on the seams, so we’ll call it fifty.
Eight-fifty is what I want from you then.”
“Well, I’ll be blowed!” said the man with a trace of unwilling
admiration. Then he actually chuckled. “Say, kid, you’ve got your
nerve, all right, ain’t you? Say, I kinder think maybe you ought to
have it. You was decent not to squeal to the cop. All right, kid, you
win! But you got to let go my arms if you want me to dig for it.”
Toby questioned Arnold with a glance. “Give him his right arm, Toby,”
said Arnold. “If he starts to go, grab him again. I’ve got him here.”
“Aw, say, can’t you believe a feller?” asked the man aggrievedly. “I
said I’d loosen up an’ I’ll do it. Gee, you rich guys is the limit!
What’s eight dollars to fellers like you, anyway? Why don’t you give
the rest of us a chance to live?”
He thrust the hand Toby had released between the buttons of his
overcoat and fumbled an instant, while Toby watched narrowly and Arnold
clung like grim death to the other arm.
“Why don’t you pick out an honest way to live?” asked Toby.
The man shrugged his shoulders. “Guess I wasn’t brung up right,” he
answered, with a grin. “It ain’t so easy to walk the straight an’
narrer when you get started all wrong, kid. Here’s your money. I threw
the purse away. It ain’t safe to keep purses around you. Let me have
that other hand so’s I can count it off, can’t you?”
He had brought out a roll of bills quite two inches thick. Toby
hesitated, dubious. “Promise not to run?” he asked finally.
“Word of honor, kid!”
“Let him go, Arn.”
“Thank you, gentlemen,” said the man in the brown overcoat ironically.
“Now then, got fifty cents? Here’s your nine dollars.” He peeled off
a five and four ones and Arnold produced a fifty cent piece and the
exchange was made. As Toby slipped the recovered wealth into an inner
pocket the man said: “That’s right, kid. Let me tell you something.
Don’t never carry money in an outside pocket. Leastways, not in this
town! ’Tain’t safe. An’ it’s an awful temptation to fellers like me. So
long, cullies. Good luck!”
“Good-by,” said Toby.
The man in the brown overcoat smiled, winked, pulled his hat to a new
angle and sauntered off and was soon lost to sight in the throng. Toby
drew a deep sigh of relief and satisfaction.
“Jiminy, Arn, I never thought I’d get that back, did you?”
“I never did, Toby. You certainly were lucky. He wasn’t such a bad sort
after all, was he?”
“N――no.” Toby gazed thoughtfully at the busy scene before them. “I dare
say there’s a lot in what he said, Arn. About getting started right,
I mean. I guess lots of folks wouldn’t be dishonest if they’d had the
right sort of――of bringing up, eh?”
“I guess so. Look here, it’s nearly one o’clock! What’ll you do about
buying your presents?”
“I guess it’s too late now.” Toby’s face fell.
“I tell you what we’ll do. We’ll find a telephone and send word we
won’t be home for luncheon, eh? We’ll get a bite to eat somewhere and
then you can shop until nearly three. You can do a lot in two hours.
What do you say?”
“Would you mind? I’d like awfully to do that.”
“Not a bit. It’ll be fun. I know a place near here where we can get
fine eats. Come on!”
But, although Toby came on, when Arnold turned to speak to him a minute
later he wasn’t there. Impatiently Arnold turned back. Toby had paused
a few yards in the rear.
“For the love of mud, Toby, get a move on, can’t you?” exclaimed
Arnold. “What’s wrong now?”
“Nothing,” was the satisfied response. “I only just stopped to see if
my money was still there. I won’t feel really safe until I’ve spent it,
I guess!”