"You are wasting your time, sir; you will have to look elsewhere for your pocket-book."
The man went off, muttering that he had no doubt it was his; but he saw clearly that he had failed. However, he was not yet at the end of his resources. At the corner of Broadway and Fulton Streets he was greeted by another young man of similar appearance.
"Well, Jack, what luck?"
"I came away as poor as I went."
"Then you couldn't hit the description?"
"No, he was too many for me."
"Anyway, you found out something. Give me a few hints, and I'll try my luck."
"He asked me if the pocket-book was brown, and I said yes. That's wrong. You'd better say it's black, or some other color."
"All right. I'll remember. What else did he ask you?"
"Where I lost it."