As Richard came out of the door the street boy shoved against him. The doors were heavy, and for an instant Richard found his way blocked. He pushed back the opposite door, and attempted to pass.
"Say, mister, dere's a big bug on your collar!" exclaimed the urchin, pointing to Richard's neck.
Now, as I'm sure every one knows, to merely have such a thing mentioned is to feel the insect in question. Such was the case with Richard, and still holding the door with one hand he put the other up to his neck.
This was the would-be thief's chance. With a dexterity worthy of a better cause the urchin transferred the slip, money and letters to his own pocket. It was done in less than three seconds, and then he darted back into the crowd upon the street.
Of course Richard found no bug, and he was considerably perplexed by the urchin's actions, never dreaming of what had really occurred.
"I suppose that boy was fooling me," he thought. "Maybe it's one of those silly jokes that become all the rage every now and then."
Richard walked to the corner of Ann Street. St. Paul's clock now pointed to ten minutes to two, and he had no time to waste.
"Watch protectors, gents, only ten cents each! May some day save you the loss of a valuable timepiece! Step right up now; only a dime! Regular price fifty cents!"
It was a street vender who made this announcement. He stood upon the curbstone, a small tray of his wares suspended from his shoulders.
"Here's just what you want, sir," he said, addressing Richard.