"He stole an old chap's pocket-book yesterday afternoon, and I seed a policeman haulin' him off to the p'lice station."
"That's where he gets his good clo'es from?" suggested Jim.
"Most likely. I expect he's on his way to the Island by this time."
"Serve him right for puttin' on airs. He won't pretend to be so much better than the rest of us now."
"Wonder what Tom Wilkins'll say? He's a great friend of Dick's."
"He's a sneak," said Micky.
"That's so. I wanted to borrer a shillin' of him last week, and he wouldn't lend it to me."
This Tom Wilkins was a boot-black like the two who were expressing so unfavorable an opinion of his character. He had a mother and two sisters partially dependent upon him for support, and faithfully carried home all his earnings. This accounts for his being unwilling to lend Limpy Jim, who had no one to look out for but himself, and never considered it necessary to repay borrowed money. Tom had reason to feel friendly to Dick, for on several occasions, one of which is mentioned in the first volume of this series, Dick had given him help in time of need. He was always ready to defend Dick, when reviled by Micky and his followers, and had once or twice been attacked in consequence. Limpy Jim was right in supposing that nothing would disturb Tom more than to hear that his friend had got into trouble.
Micky, who was in a generous mood, bought a couple of cheap cigars, of which he presented one to his satellite. These were lighted, and both boys, feeling more comfortable for the hearty meal of which they had partaken, swaggered out into the street.
They re-entered the park, and began to look out for patrons.