"Who took my basket?" he inquired of an applewoman, who kept a stand close by.
"There was a bye here just now—bigger than you. He must have run off wid it when my back was turned away."
"Where did he go?" asked Jack, anxiously.
"I didn't mind."
"What was he like?"
"Shure I've seed him here afore wid you. You called him Tim."
"It was Tim Roach!" exclaimed Jack. "He's a mean boy. He took it to get me into trouble."
"Shure he looks like a thafe."
The tears started to Jack's eyes.
"I don't know what to do," he said, piteously. "I am afraid Peggy will beat me when I get home."