Then was the critical moment for Ben. Was he to allow the thief to
escape with the money. Ben hated to get into a disturbance, but he
felt that it would be wrong and cowardly to be silent.

"Before you get out," he said, "hand that lady her pocketbook."

The face of the pickpocket changed and he darted a malignant glance at
Ben.

"What do you mean, you young scoundrel?" he said.

"You have taken that lady's pocketbook," persisted Ben.

"Do you mean to insult me?"

"I saw you do it."

With a half exclamation of anger, the young man darted to the door.
But he was brought to a standstill by the business man, who placed
himself in his way.

"Not so fast, young man," he said resolutely.

"Out of the way!" exclaimed the thief, in a rage. "It's all a base
lie. I never was so insulted in my life."

"Do you miss your pocketbook, madam?" asked the gentleman, turning to
the lady who had been robbed.

"Yes," she answered. "It was in the pocket next to this man."