loring fingers merely slid along
a smooth and unbroken frontal surface.

"Wot t'ell? Wot t'ell?" muttered the footpad in bewilderment. "Say,
where're you got yore leather and yore kittle hid? Speak up quick!"

"I'm--I'm--not carrying a watch or a purse to-night," quavered Mr.
Leary. "These--these clothes I happen to be wearing are not made with
places in them for a watch or anything. And you've already taken what
money I had--it was all in my overcoat pocket."

"Yep; a pinch of chicken feed and wot felt like about four one-bone
bills." The highwayman's accent was both ominous and contemptuous. "Say,
wotcher mean drillin' round dis town in some kinder funny riggin'
wit'out no plunder on you? I gotta right to belt you one acrost the
bean."

"I'd rather you didn't do that," protested Mr. Leary in all seriousness.
"If--if you'd only give me your address I could send you some money in
the morning to pay you for your trouble----"

"Cut out de kiddin'," broke in the disgusted marauder. His tone changed
slightly for the better. "Say, near as I kin tell by feelin' it, dat
ain't such a bum benny you're sportin'. I'll jest take dat along wit'
me. Letcher arms down easy and hold 'em straight out from yore sides
while I gits it offen you. And no funny business!"

"Oh, please, please, don't take my overcoat," implored Mr. Leary,
plunged by these words into a deeper panic. "Anything but that!
I--you--you really mustn't leave me without my overcoat."

"Wot else is dere to take?"

Even as he uttered the scornful question the thief had wrested the
garment from Mr. Leary's helpless form and was backing away into the
darkness.

Out of impenetrable gloom came his farewell warning: "Stay right where
you are for fi' minutes wit'out movin' or makin' a yelp. If you wiggle
before de time is up I gotta pal right yere watchin' you, and he'll sure
plug you. He ain't no easy-goin' guy like wot I am. You're gittin' off
lucky it's me stuck you up, stidder him."

With these words he was gone--gone with Mr. Leary's overcoat, with Mr.
Leary's last cent, with his latchkey, with his cardcase, with all by
which Mr. Leary might hope to identify himself before a wary and
incredulous world for what he was. He was gone, leaving there in the
protecting ledge of shadow the straw-hatted, socked-and-slippered,
leg-gartered figure of a plump being, clad otherwise in a single
vestment which began at the line of a becomingly low neckband and
terminated in