erson who enchained his attention.

"It's Tapp--Jim Tapp," said Andy. "I'd know that slouch of his shoulders
anywhere."

The person under his inspection was swinging a light bamboo cane and
smoking a cigarette. He wore a jet black moustache and a jet black speck
of a goatee. Moustache and goatee were unmistakably of the variety Andy
had seen a circus fakir selling for twenty-five cents, back at Clifton.

Their wearer kept his back to the lighted windows, so that his face was
in partial shadow. He also kept taking sidelong glances up and down the
curb, as if expecting some one.

Andy watched him for fully five minutes, made up his mind, and at last
stealthily glided up behind him.

Seizing both the fellow's arms, he whirled him around face to face, let
go of him, and with two quick movements of one hand tore the false
moustache and the false goatee from his face. His surmises were correct.
It was Jim Tapp.

The latter gave Andy a quick, startled glance.

"Wildwood!" he said, and switched his cane towards Andy's face.

"No, you don't!" cried Andy, grasping his arms again. "Jim Tapp, the
circus people want you."

"Let go. Nobody wants me. I've done nothing."

"Call Benares Brothers, the stake your partner hit me with, the stolen
mail bag, nothing?" demanded Andy. "You'll come along with me or I'll
call the police."

Tapp glanced sharply about. So far nobody seemed to particularly notice
them. He threw out his own arms and grasped Andy in turn. Thus
interlocked, he threw out a foot. Andy was taken off his guard. He went
toppling, but he never let go of his antagonist. Both landed with a
crash on the board sidewalk.

There was a vacant lot just next to a brilliantly lighted store. As they
took a roll, they landed nearly at the inner edge of the walk.

"There!" panted Andy, "you won't trip me again."

He was the stronger of the two, and got Tapp on his back. Sitting
astride of him, Andy caught both hands at the wrists.

"Let go!" panted Tapp. "Say, don't draw a crowd. I'll go with you."

"You'll go with a policeman," declared Andy, glancing along the walk.
"There'll be one here soon, for the crowd's coming."

"Fight! fight!" yelled three or four urchins, dashing up to the spot.

Others came hurrying along from inspecting the store windows.

"What's the row?" demanded a man.

"Fair fight. Let him up. Give him a chance," growled a low-browed
fellow, also approaching.

"What is it? what is it?" inquired