One of the men who were offering advice chanced to see him, and cried:

"There goes the boy! He was probably standing in with the swindlers. Why
don't you arrest him, Mr. Officer?"

"That's the thing to do," agreed several others, and the policeman,
evidently thinking that it would be a wise procedure for him to seize
some one in connection with the swindle, leaped after Bob, grasped him
roughly by the shoulder, and started for the station-house, followed by
Simpkins and those of the crowd who had nothing better to do.

Arrived at the police station, the countryman and the patrolman both
talked at once, while Bob stood in silence, overcome by the disgrace of
his arrest.

Taking his pencil, the sergeant stopped the countryman's torrent of
words, and began to ask him questions as to his meeting with the
strangers, eliciting the information that he had met them coming over on
the ferry-boat from Jersey City, and that the business deal they had
proposed was the betting of fifteen hundred dollars on a race horse that
was sure to win.

"It's a pity there isn't a law to keep you country people out of the
cities," grunted the sergeant, when the details of the story had been
told him, and then, turning to the policeman, he said:

"You did right in bringing along the boy, McCarty. He is evidently one
of the gang, or he wouldn't have been passing along the street just as
he was. We may be able to learn from him who the 'con' men are, and
where they hang out. Search him, and then take him back to a cell. I'll