"What's he been doing?"
"I caught him with his hand in my pocket," said the man. "He's a thieving young vagabond."
"That's a lie!" exclaimed Ben, rather startled at the unexpected turn which affairs had taken. "He's a pickpocket."
The real culprit shrugged his shoulders. "You aint quite smart enough, boy," he said.
"Has he taken anything of yours?" asked the policeman, who supposed Ben to be what he was represented.
"No," said the pickpocket; "but he came near taking a money letter which I have in my pocket."
Here, with astonishing effrontery, he displayed the letter which he had stolen from Ben.
"That's my letter," said Ben. "He took it from my pocket."
"A likely story," smiled the pickpocket, in serene superiority. "The letter is for Mrs. Abercrombie, a friend of mine, and contains fifty dollars. I incautiously wrote upon the envelope 'Money enclosed,' which attracted the attention of this young vagabond, as I held it in my hand. On replacing it in my pocket, he tried to get possession of it."
"That's a lie from beginning to end," exclaimed Ben, impetuously. "He's tryin' to make me out a thief, when he's one himself."