"Good morning," he said hurriedly. "I have an engagement."
Mark felt that he was dismissed, and kept on his way. He hardly knew whether to be glad or sorry that his uncle's family was coming to New York. He did not care for Edgar's companionship, nor did he expect to get any of it, but he knew that his mother would like to meet her sister occasionally.
About the middle of the afternoon he found himself riding in a Fifth Avenue stage. The stage was tolerably full. Directly opposite Mark sat an old lady richly dressed, whose means were evidently large. Next to her sat a flashily dressed young man, on whose bosom glittered what might be a valuable diamond stud, conspicuous for its size. He had a diamond ring on his finger, and might easily be mistaken for a banker's son.
All at once Mark noticed some suspicious movements which led him to think that the young man might be quite different from what he appeared. A moment later he saw the young man's hand dive into the old lady's side pocket. Directly afterwards he rose and pulled the strap for the stage to stop. Mark realized that a robbery had taken place. He rose and placed himself between the young man and the door.
"Madam," he said to the old lady, "I think you have been robbed. Feel in your pockets and see."
The old lady, startled, followed Mark's advice.
"My pocketbook is gone!" she said nervously.
"Out of the way, boy!" cried the young man. "I have to get out here."
"Not yet," answered Mark firmly. "Give back the lady's pocketbook."
"Why, you insolent young rascal! What do you mean?"