precious red coat of mine--and
her eyes lit on me. "Oh--you wicked boy, you told a lie!" she gasped.
"You did read my letter."

I laughed; laughed out loud, it was such a bully thing to watch
Moriway's face.

But that was an unlucky laugh of mine; it turned his wrath on me. He
made a dive toward me. I ducked and ran. Oh, how I ran! But if he
hadn't slipped on the curb he'd have had me. As he fell, though, he
let out a yell.

"Stop thief! stop thief! Thief! Thief! Thief!"

May you never hear it, Mag, behind you when you've somebody else's
diamonds in your pocket. It sounds--it sounds the way the bay of the
hounds must sound to the hare. It seems to fly along with the air; at
the same time to be behind you, at your side, even in front of you.

I heard it bellowed in a dozen different voices, and every now and then
I could hear Moriway as I pelted on--that brassy, cruel bellow of his
that made my heart sick.

And then all at once I heard a policeman's whistle.

That whistle was like a signal--I saw the gates of the Correction open
before me. I saw your Nance, Tom, in a neat striped dress, and she was
behind bars--bars--bars! There were bars everywhere before me. In
fact, I felt them against my very hands, for in my mad race I had shot
up a blind alley--a street that ended in a garden behind an iron fence.

I grabbed the diamonds to throw them from me, but I couldn't--I just
couldn't! I jumped the fence where the gate was low, and with that
whistle flying shrill and shriller after me I ran to the house.

I might have jumped from the frying-pan? Of course, I might. But it
was all fire to me. To be caught at the end is at least no worse than
to be caught at the beginning. Anyhow, it was my one chance, and I
took it as unhesitatingly as a rat takes a leap into a trap to escape a
terrier. Only--only, it was my luck that the trap wasn't set! The
room was empty. I pushed open a glass door, and fell over an open
trunk that stood beside it.

It bruised my knee and tore my hand, but oh!--it was nuts to me. For it
was a woman's trunk filled with women's things.

A skirt! A blessed skirt! And not a striped one. I threw off the
bell-boy's jacket and I got into that dear dress so quick it made my
head swim.

The jacket was a bit tight but I didn't button it, and I'd just got a
stiff little hat perched on my head when I heard the tramp of men on
the sidewalk, and in the dusk saw the cop's buttons