n his face meanwhile.

"No, you won't! You don't dare!" replied the woman, her voice sounding
as though she had summoned all her courage by an effort.

Dexter suddenly sprang closer to the woman. The next instant both were
struggling for possession of the little black bag that she carried.

"Stop!" cried Mrs. Dexter desperately. "Help! He-lp!"

"Fellows, I don't know that we're bound to stand for that," muttered
Dick Prescott quickly. "She's calling for help. Come along."

Dick was off down the street like a streak, the others following, though
Dave was closest to his chum.

"Here, what are you doing, mister?" demanded Dick, as he darted up to
where the pair were struggling.

Dexter would have had the bag in his own possession by this time, had he
not turned to see what the onrush of boys meant.

"None of your business what I'm doing," he replied savagely. "You
schoolboys run along out of this."

"Don't go! Help me," pleaded the woman. "He's trying to rob me!"

"You boys clear out, or it will be worse for you!" growled Dexter.

"The lady wins!" Dick announced coolly, though he was shaking somewhat
from excitement. "You let go of her and her property."

But Dexter, his face black with scowls, still clutched tightly with his
right hand at the little handbag, to which Mrs. Dexter was clinging with
both her hands.

"You let go of that bag," challenged Dick, "or six of us will sail into
you. I think we can handle you. We'll try, anyway."

"Yes; make him let go," begged Mrs. Dexter. "I have money and jewels
here, and he is trying to take them away from me."

"Going to do as the lady wishes?" inquired Dick, stepping closer.

Abner Dexter shot another angry glare at the sextette of Grammar School
boys. They were closing in around him, and it looked as though they
meant business.

"Gus!" called Dexter sharply.

The man who had been standing a short distance away now ran up to the
spot.

"Hullo, what do you want!" asked Dick coolly. "Are you the understudy in
this game of robbery?"

"I'm an officer," retorted the fellow sharply.

"Secretary to some Chinese laundry company, eh?" jeered Dick.

"I'm a police officer," retorted the man sharply, at the same time
displaying a shield.

That put a different look on matters with some of young Prescott's
friends. Dick, however, was a boy not easily daunted.

"If you're an officer," he inquired, "why don't you get busy and do your
duty? Here's a man trying to r