"Round in Baxter Street," said Mike, confidently.
"It is a pretty good shirt for Baxter Street," remarked Mr. O'Connor. "How much did you pay for it?"
"Fifty cents," answered Mike, glibly.
"This may all be true, Mike," said the superintendent; "but I am not certain about it. This boy here says it is his shirt, and he thinks that you stole it from him while he was lying asleep in City Hall Park yesterday."
"It's a lie he's tellin', sir," said Mike. "I never seed him afore."
Here seemed to be a conflict of evidence. Of the two Ben seemed the more likely to tell the truth. Still it was possible that he might be mistaken, and Mike might be right after all.
"Have you any other proof that the shirt is yours?" asked Mr. O'Connor, turning to Ben.
"Yes," said Ben, "my name is marked on the shirt, just below the waist."
"We can settle the matter quickly then. Mike, pull out the shirt, so that we can see it."
Mike made some objection, which was quickly overruled. The shirt, being examined, bore the name of "Benj. Brandon," just as Ben had said.