Now there had been some one following Gabriel for the last five minutes, and when he looked around, this person, who was an organ-grinder, quickly turned his back and began grinding out a tune. At the first sound of it Topaz started and trembled violently and snuggled so close to Gabriel that the latter, who did not connect his action with the music, was dismayed.
"Topaz, what is the matter?" he asked, and hurried along, thinking to find some park where he could sit down and try to discover what ailed his little playfellow.
As he began to hurry, the organ-grinder's black eyes snapped, and he stopped playing and beckoned to a big officer of the law who stood near.
"My dog has been stolen," he exclaimed. "Come with me, after the thief. I will pay you."
The big man obeyed and walked along, grumbling: "Is the city full of stolen dogs, I wonder?" he muttered.
"It is my dancing dog!" explained the organ-grinder. "The boy yonder is carrying him in his arms and running away. He will deny it, but I will pay you a silver coin. It is a week since I lost him."
"Stop, thief," roared the officer, beginning to run. The organ-grinder ran as well as he could with his heavy burden, and there began to be an excitement on the street, so that Gabriel, hugging his dog, stopped to see what was the matter.
What was his surprise to be confronted by the big officer and the black-eyed Italian.
"Drop that dog!" ordered the officer gruffly.
"Not till I get a string around his neck," objected the organ-grinder, and produced a cord which he knotted about Topaz's fluffy throat. Then he pulled the dog away roughly.