"I have no pocketbook."
As he spoke he dexterously dropped it to the floor of the stage.
"Here's your pocketbook, ma'am," said a nurse girl, picking it up.
"Thank you!" responded the old lady, relieved.
"What did I tell you?" exclaimed the dude triumphantly. "Boy, you're too fresh! I am a young man of high family. It is most ridiculous to charge me with stealing."
"I saw you with your hand in the lady's pocket," said Mark calmly.
"It's a lie! But I ought not to be surprised. I know you now. You were sent to the Island last summer for stealing. I remember seeing you on trial at Jefferson Market police court."
Suspicious glances were directed at Mark, for most people are inclined to believe evil of their neighbors—but the stout man only laughed.
"That is too thin, my friend!" he said. "Of course your motive in bringing a charge against this boy is plain.
"Let me out, sir!" stormed the crook.