“No,” said Dick. “Didn’t I tell you them were papers of no valoo to anybody but the owner? If the lady’d like to borrow, I won’t charge no interest.”
“Where is my money, then?” said the lady, in some discomfiture. “I shouldn’t wonder if one of the young scamps had thrown it out of the window.”
“You’d better search your pocket once more,” said the gentleman opposite. “I don’t believe either of the boys is in fault. They don’t look to me as if they would steal.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Frank.
The lady followed out the suggestion, and, plunging her hand once more into her pocket, drew out a small porte-monnaie. She hardly knew whether to be glad or sorry at this discovery. It placed her in rather an awkward position after the fuss she had made, and the detention to which she had subjected the passengers, now, as it proved, for nothing.
“Is that the pocket-book you thought stolen?” asked the conductor.
“Yes,” said she, rather confusedly.
“Then you’ve been keeping me waiting all this time for nothing,” he said, sharply. “I wish you’d take care to be sure next time before you make such a disturbance for nothing. I’ve lost five minutes, and shall not be on time.”
“I can’t help it,” was the cross reply; “I didn’t know it was in my pocket.”
“It seems to me you owe an apology to the boys you accused of a theft which they have not committed,” said the gentleman opposite.