As they were turning out of the town, their attention was attracted by a disturbance on the street just ahead of them. A woman screamed, and men's voices were heard. Then came cries of: "Police! Police!"
"Some one's in trouble!" exclaimed Jack. "Let's go see what it is."
They broke into a run, and, as they approached, they saw a crowd quickly collect. It seemed to center about a man who was being held by two others, though he struggled to get away.
"Here, what's the trouble?" the boys heard a constable ask as he shouldered his way into the throng.
"This fellow tried to snatch this lady's purse and run away with it," explained one of the men who had grabbed the scoundrel. "Stand still, you brute!" he shouted at him, "or I'll shake you to pieces! Such fellows as you ought to go to the whipping-post!"
"I'll take charge of him," announced the officer. "Who is he? Does any one know?"
"Stranger in town, I guess," volunteered the other man, who had helped capture him. "Need any help, officer?"
"No, I guess I can manage him. Come along now, and behave yourself, or
I'll use my club. It hasn't been tried on any one yet."
"That's one of the new constables, I guess," said Mark, and Jack nodded.
The crowd separated to allow the officer to take out his prisoner. As the latter walked forward in the grip of the constable, he remarked in a mild voice totally at variance with his bold act: