The officer ran up, exclaiming:
“What’s the row? What’s the trouble here?”
“Nothing!” exclaimed Witherby. “What do you mean by this, Dexter?”
“I make a charge of assault and battery against this fellow,” said Larry boldly. “He tried to pick my pocket, I think.”
“I did not!” cried Witherby. “It’s all a mistake!”
“Well, I’ll take you both down to the station house, and you can explain to the captain,” spoke the officer, and a little later, when the patrol wagon came, Larry and his captive were put into it. This was just what the young reporter wanted, but Witherby was very angry.
“There is something back of this!” cried the former bank clerk, when Larry had told of the collision. “You’re not having me arrested for colliding with you, Dexter. What is it?”
“You’re wanted for robbing the Consolidated Bank of one million dollars!” said Larry quietly, “and President Bentfield will soon be here to press the charge. I ask that he be held until then,” he said to the police captain.
“A million dollars!” gasped the police official. “You don’t mean to say this is the fellow who is responsible for that big Wall Street bank mystery?”
Larry nodded.