"STOP THAT MAN! STOP THAT MAN."
I kept looking back, and had just begun to congratulate myself on my success, when suddenly my horse came to a full stop, and I landed forward astride his neck, hanging on by his mane. I then discovered a large policeman holding him by the bit.
I dismounted, and as the gentleman who had been running behind came up to where we were, the police officer said to him:
"Mr. Cavanaugh, what shall I do with the horse?"
"Take him back to the stable, for the time being," was the answer.
I then said:
"I now recognize you as the gentleman and detective whom I was introduced to a few weeks ago by an acquaintance from Bronson, Mich., at which place I believe you formerly resided, and where I married my wife."
"Sure enough," he answered. "Your wife and I were school children together. Johnston is your name."
"Yes, sir."
"Well, great Heavens! you're no horse-thief!"