“Then let’s sneak out into the audience and get behind him,” suggested Veve. “Perhaps we can see him better then.”
“All right,” agreed Connie. “Don’t look at him when we walk past.”
The girls found vacant seats almost directly behind the man. Connie was certain he was the same person she had seen that morning at the railroad station. But was he Pickpocket Joe?
“I wish he would turn his face this way,” she whispered to Veve.
“Watch me! I’ll make him do it.”
Deliberately, Veve gave the man a little kick with her shoe. The fellow turned around quickly enough then.
“Say, be careful,” he said, scowling. “That’s my back you’re kicking.”
Now the man didn’t really glance at Veve or Connie. On the other hand, the girls obtained an excellent view of his face. Plainly, he had a large mole on his cheek.
“It’s Pickpocket Joe!” whispered Connie after the man had turned around again. “Now what shall we do?”
“We ought to get Clem Gregg.”