"I hope it didn't affect your appetite much," said Dick.
"But it did. I appeal to Mr. Fosdick whether I ate anything to speak of."
"I thought Miss Peyton had a better appetite than usual," said Fosdick.
"That is too bad of you, Mr. Fosdick," said Miss Peyton. "I'm sure I didn't eat more than my canary bird."
"Just the way it affected me," said Dick. "It always improves my appetite to see you eat, Miss Peyton."
Miss Peyton looked as if she hardly knew whether to understand this remark as complimentary or otherwise.
That evening, at the dinner-table, Clifton drew a copy of the "Express" from his pocket, and said, "By Jove, Hunter, here's a capital joke on you! I'll read it. 'A boy, named Richard Hunter, was charged with picking a pocket on Chatham Street; but it appearing that the theft was committed by another party, he was released from custody.'"
Dick's heart beat a little quicker while this was being read, but he maintained his self-possession.
"Of course," said he, "that was the important business that detained me. But I hope you won't mention it, for the sake of my family."
"I'd make the young rascal change his name, if I were you," said Clifton, "if he's going to get into the Police record."