r would meet with a check which he was far from anticipating.

Without answering Ben, the latter took the valise, and was about moving
away, when the quiet-looking man suddenly quickened his pace, and laid
his hand on his arm.

The burglar, for he was really one, started, and turned pale.

"What do you want?"

"You know what I want," said the detective, quietly. "I want you."

"What do you want me for?" demanded the other; but it was easy to see
that he was nervous and alarmed.

"You know that also," said the detective; "but I don't mind telling
you. You came from Philadelphia this morning, and your name is 'Sly
Bill.' You are a noted burglar, and I shall take you into immediate
custody."

"You're mistaken," said Bill. "You've got hold of the wrong man."

"That will soon be seen. Have the kindness to accompany me to the
station-house, and I'll take a look into that valise of yours."

Bill was physically a stronger man than the detective, but he succumbed
at once to the tone of quiet authority with which he spoke, and prepared
to follow, though by no means with alacrity.

"Here, my lad," said the detective, beckoning Ben, who came up. "Come
and see me at this place, to-morrow," he continued, producing a card,
"and I won't forget the promise I made you."

"All right," said Ben.

"I'm in luck ag'in," he said to himself. "At this rate it won't take me
long to make fifty dollars. Smashin' baggage for burglars pays pretty
well."

He bethought himself of his papers, of which half remained unsold. He
sold some on the way back to the wharf, where, after a while, he got
another job, for which, being at some distance, he was paid fifty cents.

At five in the afternoon he reported himself at the news-stand.

"I've sold all the papers you gave me," he said, "and here's the money.
I guess I can sell more to-morrow."

The news-dealer paid him the commission agreed upon, amounting to
eighteen cents, Ben, of course, retaining besides the five cents which
had been paid him extra in the morning. This made his earnings for the
day ninety-eight cents, besides the dollars promised by the detective.

CHAPTER XXIII.

THE SURPRISE.

Ben had certainly met with good luck so far. Even his temporary
detention at the station-house he regarded as a piece of good luck,
since he was paid handsomely for the confinement, while his bed there
was considerably more comfortable than he often enjoyed. His adventure
with the bur