“Well, that’s cool,” grumbled the stout man. “You{28} wake me up out of a nap to ask me what time of day it is.”
Sanders turned pale when Julius asked this question, for he saw that discovery was imminent. He half arose from his seat, but it occurred to him that that would only fasten suspicion upon him. Moreover the train was going at the rate of twenty-five miles an hour, and, though he might go into another car, he could not escape from the train. He closed his lips tightly, and tried to look calm and indifferent. He had determined to brazen it out.
Notwithstanding his grumbling rejoinder, the stout man felt for his watch. Now it was his turn to start and look dismayed.
“By jove, it’s gone!” he ejaculated.
“What’s the matter, sir?” asked Julius.
“My watch and chain are gone. Do you know anything about them, boy?”
“I think you had better put that question to the man you’re sittin’ with.”
“What do you mean by that, you young rascal?” demanded Ned Sanders, pale with passion and dismay. “I think, sir, the boy behind you has taken your watch.”
“I don’t see how he could do that,” said the other, regarding him suspiciously. “Can you tell me where my watch is sir?”{29}
“What should I know of your watch? Do you mean to insult me, sir?” blustered the pickpocket.