He snatched the watch which hung at Ruth’s waist-belt, snapped the slender guard that held it, and made off.
When sufficiently out of danger of pursuit, he paused under a lamp to examine his prize. To his intense disgust he found that the little watch, instead of being a gold one, as he had expected, was only a silver one, of comparatively little value.
“Well, your first haul in this line ain’t worth much,” he grumbled. “Hows’ever, I’ve got coppers enough for a night’s lodgin’ an’ grub.”
Saying which he pocketed the watch, and went on his way.
Meanwhile Ruth, having given vent to a sob of relief when the man left her, ran towards home as fast as she could, never pausing till she reached the Miss Seawards’ door, which chanced to be a little nearer than her own. Against this she plunged with wonderful violence for one so gentle and tender, and then hammered it with her knuckles in a way that would have done credit to a lightweight prize-fighter.
The door was opened hastily by Liffie Lee, who, being a much lighter weight than her assailant, went down before her rush.
“Lawk! Miss Ruth,” she exclaimed, on recovering her feet, “w’at’s a-’appened?”
But she asked the question of the empty air, for Ruth was already half sobbing, half laughing on the sofa, with a highly agitated sister on either side trying to calm her.
“Oh! what a little donkey I am,” she exclaimed, flinging off her bonnet and attempting to laugh.
“What has happened?” gasped Jessie.