"Right!" nodded Harry.
"They must all be members of the same gang of thieves, then," flashed d.i.c.k. "I"ve read in the newspapers that the thieves who work the Christmas trade generally go in gangs. By crackey! Did you see that?"
"Yes!" muttered Tom Reade excitedly.
"What?" questioned Greg.
"Why," explained d.i.c.k, "Mr. Slim put his hand in a woman"s skirt pocket.
He slipped a wallet from her pocket to his."
"That"s what he did," nodded Tom.
"Come along," urged d.i.c.k. "We"ll see if we can come across a policeman before Mr. Slim gets all the money in the town."
Falling in by twos the Grammar School boys, full of excitement, trailed after the slim, neatly dressed thief.
Two blocks lower down the boys ran across Policeman Whalen, who, in citizen"s clothes, had been turned out to watch for thieves.
In an undertone d.i.c.k called attention to the slim fellow, who was still moving along in the moving crowds of shopping women. Whalen cautiously took up the trail, while d.i.c.k & Co. fell back somewhat.
Two minutes later Whalen made a sudden leap forward, seizing the suspected young man by the coat collar.
"Stand by, till I shake ye down!" roared the policeman, thrashing the thief about until the slim one"s teeth chattered. A small morocco purse fell to the sidewalk.
"Why, that"s mine!" cried a woman.
"I know it, ma"am. I saw this spalpeen take it from your pocket," nodded Policeman Whalen. "Come along with me, lad! And ye come, too, ma"am, and claim your pocketbook."
"Oh, I"m so glad you saw him do it," quivered the young woman, her face white from the shock caused by the thought of losing her Christmas money.
"I wouldn"t have seen him do it," admitted Whalen honestly, "only d.i.c.k Prescott called my attention to the spalpeen."
The prisoner, who realized that he could not twist himself away from the strong clutch of the policeman, scowled at d.i.c.k as the young woman thanked him.
A crowd formed in an instant, but Whalen broke up the excitement by starting promptly along with his captive.
d.i.c.k & Co. turned and followed a little way. The crowd that kept in the wake of the policeman was soon a dense one.
"You"ll be sorry for this, youngster!" growled a low, angry voice just behind d.i.c.k.
Like a flash Prescott wheeled. It was not plain, however, who, in all that throng, had spoken to him. But d.i.c.k"s roving gaze soon made out, several yards away, a man in brown, wearing a gray overcoat. The fellow was marching along with the throng as though he, too, were an idle spectator.
"That"s the fit-thrower"s other friend," flashed through d.i.c.k"s mind.
"He must have been the fellow who spoke behind me just now, too."
"Oh, let"s not go any further," proposed Tom Reade. "We"ve seen folks arrested before this."
"Come along," said d.i.c.k shortly, not caring to explain his reasons just at this moment.
So the chums kept on in the wake of the crowd. A block further on a uniformed policeman stepped forward to have a look at Whalen"s prisoner.
"Moll-buzzer," explained Policeman Whalen briefly to his brother of the force. A "moll-buzzer" is a thief who robs women in crowds.
The uniformed policeman fell back and the crowd moved forward, but d.i.c.k seized the second policeman"s coat sleeve.
"There"s another of the gang," whispered d.i.c.k, pointing to the black-moustached man in the gray overcoat.
"Are you sure?" demanded officer number two.
"Positive," whispered d.i.c.k. "At least, we saw them talking together early this morning."
At this moment the man in the gray overcoat turned. He saw d.i.c.k and the policeman talking in low tones. Without waiting an instant the man in the gray overcoat darted forward, trying to break through the crowd.
"Grab him!" shouted the policeman.
Three or four men moved closer to obey.
"Look out!" yelled some one frantically. "He"s got a pistol."
The citizen helpers drew away quickly at that information, but the delay had been enough to enable the policeman to close in on his man. With his locust stick the officer struck down the pistol hand and s.n.a.t.c.hed away the weapon. An instant later two prisoners were marching toward the police station, the second one having been taken only on suspicion.
"Bully for you, d.i.c.k Prescott!" cried Grocer Smith, laying a heavy but approving hand across d.i.c.k"s shoulders.
"Oh, we all recognized the pair," Prescott answered modestly. "They were together this morning, and the fit-thrower was with them."
"You boys will be sorry for making unfounded charges of this sort,"
called back the black-moustached prisoner angrily. "Wait and see if you"re not."
"Cut out the gloom, man!" ordered the uniformed policeman, giving his captive a twist that hurt. "Don"t be trying to frighten small boys."
At the station house the crowd hung about outside.
"Going inside, d.i.c.k!" asked Dave eagerly.
"No one has asked us to. I guess we"d better wait out here unless we"re invited inside."
The young woman, whose pocketbook had been taken, went inside. She identified her property and made a charge against the pick-pocket. Both prisoners again heard the name of d.i.c.k Prescott mentioned.
The crowd melted after a little. Later the two prisoners were taken before Justice Lee. Mr. Slim was sent away for six months on the charge of pocket picking. The thick set captive in the gray overcoat, because he could not give a good account of himself, was sentenced to ninety days in the workhouse for vagrancy. Police and court were determined to do all in their power to protect the Christmas shoppers.
"Now, as to our camping plans," d.i.c.k resumed, a little later in the afternoon. "You fellows who aren"t yet sure that you can get leave to go, will have to keep right on the trail until that permission is given.
You can say that some of us are going, and that may help you some at home."
"It may help the rest," suggested Dan Dalzell mournfully, "but nothing will do me any good. I"m dished. No camping out in winter is going to come my way."
"Oh, I wouldn"t be too sure," urged d.i.c.k. "But, at least, you can be sure you won"t go if you don"t try some more coaxing."