“I wouldn’t trust him,” said Bob, bluntly. “He may be a Senator, but he is a thief, just the same, and—stop him!”
For without warning the slim man had made a dash through the crowd. He reached the piazza, and, jumping into the road, made off as fast as his long legs would carry him.
“After him!” shrieked the elderly woman. “He has my jewels still.”
She was right. Fitt had not taken the box the sneak-thief had produced, and they were still in the slim man’s possession. Bob rushed after the fellow. The others followed, but the youth was the better runner of the two.
He caught up to the sneak-thief just as the latter was about to mount a horse which stood a short distance from the hotel.
“Give me those jewels!” he cried.
The slim man paid no attention. He probably thought Bob was only a boy and could do nothing.
Just as the man mounted the horse, Bob caught him by the side pocket of his sack coat. The pocket was torn away, and out on the road tumbled the jewel case.
Bob snatched it up. Seeing what had happened the slim man thought first to dismount and try to recover the case, but Fitt and several others were not far off, and he reconsidered the matter and galloped off at top speed.
“Have you it?” gasped the landlord, anxiously.