CHAPTER XIX.
WHICH IS THE GUILTY PARTY?
It was an exciting moment for Ben. He felt that his character forhonesty was at stake. In case the pickpocket succeeded in getting offwith the letter and money, Mr. Sampson would no doubt come to theconclusion that he had appropriated the fifty dollars to his own use,while his story of the robbery would be regarded as an impudentfabrication. He might even be arrested, and sentenced to the Island fortheft. If this should happen, though he were innocent, Ben felt that heshould not be willing to make himself known to his sister or hisparents. But there was a chance of getting back the money, and heresolved to do his best.
The pickpocket turned down a side street, his object being to get out ofthe range of observation as soon as possible. But one thing he did notanticipate, and this was Ben's immediate discovery of his loss. On thissubject he was soon enlightened. He saw Ben jump from the horse-car, andhis first impulse was to run. He made a quick movement in advance, andthen paused. It occurred to him that he occupied a position of advantagewith regard to his accuser, being respectably dressed, while Ben wasmerely a ragged street boy, whose word probably would not inspire muchconfidence. This vantage ground he would give up by having recourse toflight, as this would be a virtual acknowledgment of guilt. He resolvedinstantaneously to assume an attitude of conscious integrity, and frowndown upon Ben from the heights of assumed respectability. There was onedanger, however, that he was known to some of the police force in histrue character. But he must take the risk of recognition.
On landing in the middle of the street, Ben lost no time; but, runningup to the pickpocket, caught him by the arm.
"What do you want, boy?" he demanded, in a tone of indifference.
"I want my money," said Ben.
"I don't understand you," said the pickpocket loftily.
"Look here, mister," said Ben, impatiently; "you know well enough what Imean. You took a letter with money in it out of my pocket. Just hand itback, and I won't say anything about it."
"You're an impudent young rascal," returned the "gentleman," affectingto be outraged by such a charge. "Do you dare to accuse a gentleman likeme of robbing a ragmuffin like you?"
"Yes, I do," said Ben, boldly.
"Then you're either crazy or impudent, I don't know which."
"Call me what you please; but give me back my money."
"I don't believe you ever had five dollars in your possession. How muchdo you mean to say there was in this letter?"
"Fifty dollars," answered Ben.
The pickpocket had an object in asking this question. He wanted to learnwhether the sum of money was sufficient to make it worth his while tokeep it. Had it been three or four dollars, he might have given it up,to avoid risk and trouble. But on finding that it was fifty dollars hedetermined to hold on to it at all hazards.
"Clear out, boy," he said, fiercely. "I shan't stand any of yourimpudence."
"Give me my money, then."
"If you don't stop that, I'll knock you down," repeated the pickpocket,shaking off Ben's grasp, and moving forward rapidly.
If he expected to frighten our hero away thus easily, he was very muchmistaken. Ben had too much at stake to give up the attempt to recoverthe letter. He ran forward, and, seizing the man by the arm, hereiterated, in a tone of firm determination, "Give me my money, or I'llcall a copp."
"Take that, you young villain!" exclaimed the badgered thief, bringinghis fist in contact with Ben's face in such a manner as to cause theblood to flow.
In a physical contest it was clear that Ben would get the worst of it.He was but a boy of sixteen, strong, indeed, of his age; but still whatcould he expect to accomplish against a tall man of mature age? He sawthat he needed help, and he called out at the top of his lungs, "Help!Police!"
His antagonist was adroit, and a life spent in eluding the law had madehim quick-witted. He turned the tables upon Ben by turning round,grasping him firmly by the arm, and repeating in a voice louder thanBen's, "Help! Police!"
Contrary to the usual custom in such cases, a policeman happened to benear, and hurried to the spot where he was apparently wanted.
"What's the row?" he asked.
Before Ben had time to prefer his charge, the pickpocket said glibly:--
"Policeman, I give this boy in charge."
"What's he been doing?"
"I caught him with his hand in my pocket," said the man. "He's athieving young vagabond."
"That's a lie!" exclaimed Ben, rather startled at the unexpected turnwhich affairs had taken. "He's a pickpocket."
The real culprit shrugged his shoulders. "You aint quite smart enough,boy," he said.
"Has he taken anything of yours?" asked the policeman, who supposed Bento be what he was represented.
"No," said the pickpocket; "but he came near taking a money letter whichI have in my pocket."
Here, with astonishing effrontery, he displayed the letter which he hadstolen from Ben.
"That's _my_ letter," said Ben. "He took it from my pocket."
"A likely story," smiled the pickpocket, in serene superiority. "Theletter is for Mrs. Abercrombie, a friend of mine, and contains fiftydollars. I incautiously wrote upon the envelope 'Money enclosed,' whichattracted the attention of this young vagabond, as I held it in my hand.On replacing it in my pocket, he tried to get possession of it."
"That's a lie from beginning to end," exclaimed Ben, impetuously. "He'stryin' to make me out a thief, when he's one himself."
"Well, what is your story?" asked the policeman, who, however, hadalready decided in his own mind that Ben was the guilty party.
"I was ridin' in the Fourth Avenue cars along side of this man," saidBen, "when he put his hand in my pocket, and took out the letter thathe's just showed you. I jumped out after him, and asked him to give itback, when he fetched me a lick in the face."
"Do you mean to say that a ragamuffin like you had fifty dollars?"demanded the thief.
"No," said Ben, "the money wasn't mine. I was carryin' it up to Mrs.Abercrombie, who lives on Madison Avenue."
"It's a likely story that a ragamuffin like you would be trusted with somuch money."
"If you don't believe it," said Ben, "go to Mr. Abercrombie's office inWall Street. Mr. Sampson gave it to me only a few minutes ago. If hesays he didn't, just carry me to the station-house as quick as you wantto."
This confident assertion of Ben's put matters in rather a differentlight. It seemed straightforward, and the reference might easily provewhich was the real culprit. The pickpocket saw that the officer wavered,and rejoined hastily, "You must expect the officer's a fool to believeyour ridiculous story."
"It's not so ridiculous," answered the policeman, scrutinizing thespeaker with sudden suspicion. "I am not sure but the boy is right."
"I'm willing to let the matter drop," said the pickpocket,magnanimously; "as he didn't succeed in getting my money, I will notprosecute. You may let him go, Mr. Officer."
"Not so fast," said the policeman, his suspicions of the other partygetting stronger and more clearly defined. "I haven't any authority todo as you say."
"Very well, take him along then. I suppose the law must take itscourse."
"Yes, it must."
"Very well, boy, I'm sorry you've got into such a scrape; but it's yourown fault. Good morning, officer."
"You're in too much of a hurry," said the policeman, coolly; "you mustgo along with me too."
"Really," said the thief, nervously, "I hope you'll excuse me. I've gotan important engagement this morning, and--I--in fact it will beexcessively inconvenient."
"I'm sorry to put you to inconvenience, but it can't be helped."
"Really, Mr. Officer--"
"It's no use. I shall need you. Oblige me by handing me that letter."
"Here it is," said the thief, unwillingly surrendering it. "Really, it'sexcessively provoking. I'd rather lose the money than break myengagement. I'll promise to be on hand at the trial, whenever it comesoff; if
you keep the money it will be a guaranty of my appearance."
"I don't know about that," answered the officer "As to being present atthe trial, I mean that you shall be."
"Of course, I promised that."
"There's one little matter you seem to forget," said the officer; "yourappearance may be quite as necessary as the boy's. It may be your trialand not his."
"Do you mean to insult me?" demanded the pickpocket, haughtily.
"Not by no manner of means. I aint the judge, you know. If your story isall right, it'll appear so."
"Of course; but I shall have to break my engagement."
"Well, that can't be helped as I see. Come along, if _you_ please."
He tucked one arm in that of the man, and the other in Ben's, and movedtowards the station-house. Of the two Ben seemed to be much the moreunconcerned. He was confident that his innocence would be proclaimed,while the other was equally convinced that trouble awaited him.
"Well, boy, how do you like going to the station-house?" asked thepoliceman.
"I don't mind as long as he goes with me," answered Ben. "What I wasmost afraid of was that I'd lose the money, and then Mr. Sampson wouldhave taken me for a thief."
Meanwhile the other party was rapidly getting more and more nervous. Hefelt that he was marching to his fate, and that the only way of escapewas by flight, and that immediate; for they were very near thestation-house. Just as Ben pronounced the last words, the thief gatheredall his strength, and broke from the grasp of the officer, whose holdwas momentarily relaxed. Once free he showed an astonishing rapidity.
The officer hesitated for an instant, for he had another prisoner toguard.
"Go after him," exclaimed Ben, eagerly. "Don't let him escape. I'll staywhere I am."
The conviction that the escaped party was the real thief determined thepoliceman to follow Ben's advice. He let him go, and started in rapidpursuit of the fugitive.
Ben sat down on a doorstep, and awaited anxiously the result of thechase.
Ben, the Luggage Boy; Or, Among the Wharves Page 19
