"Hold on, officer, there's your man," said Oscar, pointing to the retreating thief.
"Oh, you can't play that on me," said the officer, and he commenced without further inquiry to cuff his prisoner over the head in a very rough manner, when suddenly the dude wrested himself clear and let the officer have one on the ear, and then the crowd laughed and jeered as the cop went reeling. Another officer arrived on the field. He also happened to be a fresh Alec. He didn't stop to ask a question but drew his club and made a rush at the supposed thief; the latter had no time to make an explanation. It was take a knock on the head or fight. He decided to fight and explain afterward, so he let "copper" number two have one, and it did appear marvelous, the ease with which he dropped the knights of the brass buttons. Cop number one had regained his feet, and drawing his club was about to make a rush, when Oscar threw back the lapel of his coat, and the officer's eyes rested on a little silver badge that caused him to recoil as though he had been confronted by a ghost.
Both policemen fell to their blunder and the detective said:
"Go and hunt up your right men now and don't be so fast next time."
Assuming his chappie walk our hero ambled away. On the following morning there appeared an account in the papers, telling how a detective, very smartly dressed, had knocked out and captured two pickpockets when a policeman came along and mistaking the detective for the thief permitted the real thief to depart.
A day or two passed when our hero, who made a daily practice to look over the personals in all the journals, saw a little advertisement which read as follows:
"If the detective who recovered an old lady's pocketbook will send his address to Mrs. I. F., Station B, he will hear of something to his advantage."
"Well," ejaculated the officer, "that means me. Now let us see—what shall we do?"
It did not take the detective very long to decide upon his course. He wrote the letter, and proceeding to Station B, mailed it, then he lay around for several hours until he saw a very nice-looking young lady call and ask for a letter addressed to "I. F." The letter was delivered and the girl started off with the detective on her track. He trailed her to an old-fashioned house in a very excellent neighborhood.
The girl meantime entered the house and delivered the letter to an old lady—the same old lady who had been robbed. The latter said, as the girl entered the room to the left of the hall: