an impudent young rascal," returned the "gentleman," affecting
to be outraged by such a charge. "Do you dare to accuse a gentleman like
me of robbing a ragmuffin like you?"

"Yes, I do," said Ben, boldly.

"Then you're either crazy or impudent, I don't know which."

"Call me what you please; but give me back my money."

"I don't believe you ever had five dollars in your possession. How much
do you mean to say there was in this letter?"

"Fifty dollars," answered Ben.

The pickpocket had an object in asking this question. He wanted to learn
whether the sum of money was sufficient to make it worth his while to
keep it. Had it been three or four dollars, he might have given it up,
to avoid risk and trouble. But on finding that it was fifty dollars he
determined to hold on to it at all hazards.

"Clear out, boy," he said, fiercely. "I shan't stand any of your
impudence."

"Give me my money, then."

"If you don't stop that, I'll knock you down," repeated the pickpocket,
shaking off Ben's grasp, and moving forward rapidly.

If he expected to frighten our hero away thus easily, he was very much
mistaken. Ben had too much at stake to give up the attempt to recover
the letter. He ran forward, and, seizing the man by the arm, he
reiterated, in a tone of firm determination, "Give me my money, or I'll
call a copp."

"Take that, you young villain!" exclaimed the badgered thief, bringing
his fist in contact with Ben's face in such a manner as to cause the
blood to flow.

In a physical contest it was clear that Ben would get the worst of it.
He was but a boy of sixteen, strong, indeed, of his age; but still what
could he expect to accomplish against a tall man of mature age? He saw
that he needed help, and he called out at the top of his lungs, "Help!
Police!"

His antagonist was adroit, and a life spent in eluding the law had made
him quick-witted. He turned the tables upon Ben by turning round,
grasping him firmly by the arm, and repeating in a voice louder than
Ben's, "Help! Police!"

Contrary to the usual custom in such cases, a policeman happened to be
near, and hurried to the spot where he was apparently wanted.

"What's the row?" he asked.

Before Ben had time to prefer his charge, the pickpocket said glibly:--

"Policeman, I give this boy in charge."

"What's he been doing?"

"I caught him with his hand in my pocket," said the man. "He's a
thieving young vagabond."

"That's a lie!" exclaimed Ben, rat