“Here comes one of them now,” replied Breeze, as he handed a five-cent piece to a breathless small boy, who came running up just in front of a big policeman.
"THAT GENTLEMAN THERE REFUSES TO RETURN A GOLD BALL AND CHAIN THAT I HANDED HIM FOR EXAMINATION."
To this officer Breeze said, “That gentleman there,” pointing to the dark-skinned jeweller, “refuses to return a gold ball and chain that I handed him for examination. He says he thinks I stole them, and he has locked them up in a drawer. I think I can bring one of the best-known men in New York to vouch for my honesty; but it may be some time before I can find him. Now, I want to know if you will take this trinket, as the gentleman calls it, and keep it for me until I return?”
“Why not just as well leave it where it is?” interrupted the jeweller, eagerly. “It will be perfectly safe here, as this officer knows.”
“No,” said Breeze, “that will not do. You must give it to the officer at once, or else I shall go to the police-station, and enter a complaint against you for stealing.”
The partners whispered together for a minute. Evidently the bold stand taken by the lad, and his prompt action, had made a decided impression upon them.
Before they could reach a decision as to what they should do, the officer spoke up and said,
“The young man is right. If there is any stolen property in the question, the proper place for it is in the station-house. So, if you will just hand over this article, whatever it is, I will take it there.”
There was no appeal from this decision. The locket was reluctantly given up to the officer, who took both it and Breeze to the station-house near by. Here the sergeant in charge listened attentively to all that he had to say, as well as to the story Breeze had to tell.