“All, right, come along, we’ll go down there.”
Around the corner they started and when within a block of the street the boy again changed the place of purchase.
“I buyed it of Mr. Jones, way out on this street.”
That was five blocks away.
“Now this is the last time,” said one of the officers, “if you change the place again, look out.”
But when they had walked four squares the boy again made an effort to change.
“No, you don’t my chappy,” said one of the officers, “We know you stole it. We knew it from the first. Now you own to the truth or we will take you to the president, and then what?”
The boy squirmed considerable, but every movement gave evidence that he stole it.
“Now, where did you get it?” was bluntly asked, as the boy was backed up against a building.
This was too much for him. He owned he “hooked it.” Naming a prominent department store as the place he took it.