oopers will generally pay twenty-five cents
for one in good condition. This is enough, in the eyes of many a young
vagabond, to pay for the risk incurred in stealing one.

Jerry prowled round the market for some time, seeking a good opportunity
to walk off with an apple or banana, or something eatable. But the
guardians of the stands seemed unusually vigilant, and he was compelled
to give up the attempt, as involving too great risk. Jerry was hungry,
and hunger is an uncomfortable feeling. He began to wish he had remained
satisfied with his old shirt, dirty as it was, and carried the new one
to some of the Baxter street dealers, from whom he could perhaps have
got fifty cents for it. Now, fifty cents would have paid for a breakfast
and a couple of cigars, and those just now would have made Jerry happy.

"What a fool I was not to think of it!" he said. "The old shirt would do
me, and I could buy a bully breakfast wid the money I'd get for this."

Just at this moment he espied an empty barrel--a barrel apparently quite
new and in an unguarded position. He resolved to take it, but the affair
must be managed slyly.

He lounged up to the barrel, and leaned upon it indolently. Then, in
apparent unconsciousness, he began to turn it, gradually changing its
position. If observed, he could easily deny all felonious intentions.
This he kept up till he got round the corner, when, glancing around to
see if he was observed, he quickly lifted it on his shoulder and marched
off.

All this happened without his being observed by the owner of the barrel.
But a policeman, who chanced to be going his rounds, had been a witness
of Jerry's little game. He remained quiet till Jerry's intentions became
evident, then walked quietly up and put his hand on his shoulder.

"Put down that barrel!" he said, authoritatively.

Jerry had been indulging in visions of the breakfast he would get with
the twenty-five cents he expected to obtain for the barrel, and the
interruption was not an agreeable one. But he determined to brazen it
out if possible.

"What for will I put it down?" he said.

"Because you have stolen it, that's why."

"No," said Jerry, "I'm carrying it round to my boss. It's his."

"Where do you work?"

"In Fourth street," said Jerry, at random.

"What number?"

"No. 136."

"Then your boss will have to get some one in your place, for you will
have to come with me."

"What for?"

"I saw you steal the barrel. You're a b