"Very possibly," said Leslie, too much used to slight rebuffs to pay them any great attention.
"Well, I shall walk down faster than you—bye-bye, old fellow. Look in at my place to-morrow and let us see whether we can arrange to do anything more in opposition to His High Mightiness Superintendent and Provost Marshal Kennedy," said Harding, moving away.
"Look! look! over there!" said Leslie, just as his friend was leaving him. "There is a piece of infernal impudence!"
The two friends were yet on the East side of Broadway, as they had come out from Broome Street. The procession had passed from the street, and the crowd on the sidewalks had materially cleared away. Leslie had been looking across at the passengers on the "shilling side." Two ladies, neatly dressed in street costume, and wearing light gypsies, were walking together, downward. Behind them, and so close that he nearly trod upon their dresses, a tall man was walking apparently upon tip-toe and leaning over so that his head was almost between theirs. He was evidently not of their party—was apparently listening to their conversation and scanning the necks and busts before him somewhat too closely; they all the while unconscious what a miserable libel on humanity was dogging them. He looked foreign—perhaps French, especially in the extraordinary curve and bell of his black round hat,—was well-dressed, and seemed to be gray-haired enough to know better.
"Impudence? I should think so," replied Harding, as he caught sight of the two girls and their unobserved follower. "That dirty hound would rob a church! Oh, if I could only see that taller one turn around, now, and fetch him such a slap in the face that it would ring for a twelvemonth! Why, by Heavens, Leslie!" he said, looking closer. "I ought to know that figure, and I do. Come over, and let us see the end of this."
"And your bank account?" asked Leslie.
"Oh, never mind that—come along!" and in half a minute they were across the street and close behind the ladies and their persecutor. The latter kept his place, dodging his head around at every opportunity as if to get a sight of the face of the taller girl, and both apparently yet unconscious of his presence.
"Do you see a policeman?" asked Harding, in a low voice. "I will have that fellow taken up."
"Not a policeman!" answered Leslie. "If you know either of the ladies, take the scoundrel by the collar, or let me."
"I do know the taller girl," said Harding, "and—"