"He's gone—and the five dollars is gone, too!" groaned Nelson, and his heart sank. He knew that it would be useless to attempt to follow the bully. Billy would keep out of sight so long as the money lasted. When it was spent he would re-appear in New York and deny everything, and to prove that he was a thief would be next to impossible, for, so far as Nelson knew, nobody had seen the money taken.
He had now but fifty cents left, and a stock of papers worth half a dollar more, if sold. With a heavy heart he walked away from the ferryhouse in the direction from whence he had come.
Nelson had scarcely taken his stand at the corner again when a young lady, very stylishly dressed, came out of a neighboring store, looked at him, and smiled.
"Did you catch him?" she asked sweetly.
"Who, miss; the big boy who stole my money?" questioned Nelson quickly.
"Yes."
"No, ma'am; he got away, on a Brooklyn ferryboat."
"And how much did he steal from you?"
"Five dollars."