“Oh, no!” cried Lettie, “I can’t!”
“Oh, well! I can take it off myself,” he said. “If it’s tight I’ll just take finger and all,” and he took out and opened a great clasp knife.
Then Lettie saw the uselessness of protest, and with despair in her heart she drew off the ring and dropped it into the dirty hand extended to receive it. Instantly it followed the beads and watch into his pocket, and he stood aside, leaving the path open for her to pass, saying, with a horrid grin, “Now you may go, miss, and thank you kindly for your generosity.”
Along that path Lettie flew till she reached one of the main avenues where people were constantly passing, when she fell into a seat, wild-eyed, and almost fainting.
“What’s the matter?” asked a gruff policeman who came near. “What you been doing, miss?”
“Oh, go after the thief!” she cried; “I’ve been robbed.”
“Which way did he go?” asked the man, evidently not believing her, the idea of being robbed in broad daylight, here in the park, appearing to seem absurd to him.
“Down that path,” cried Lettie excitedly, “a great rough man with a big stick! Oh! do go! he has my gold beads and my diamond ring and”—
Whether the policeman did not care to encounter a rough thief with a big stick, or whether he really did not believe her, he here interrupted with:—
“I guess he has your sense, too! I think I better run you in—you’ll do fine for the crazy ward!”