"You know who I am? Why, I am as I tell you,—Allen Price," he faltered.
"Really," I replied, with assumed sarcasm.
"Yes, really."
"I know better," I returned boldly.
I was hardly prepared for what was to follow. The man caught me by the arm.
"Then what you know shall cost you dear," he cried. "I'm not to be outwitted by a country boy. Help! Police! Police!"
As he uttered his call for assistance he let drop his handbag and drew his purse from his pocket.
"I've got you, you young thief!" he cried, letting the purse fall to the sidewalk. "You didn't think to be caught as easily, did you? Help! Po—Oh, officer, I'm glad you've come!" the last to a policeman who had just hurried to the scene.
"What's the matter here?" demanded the minion of the law.
"I just caught this young fellow picking my pocket," exclaimed Mr. Allen. "Where's my pocketbook?"