Len Dardus."

"That isn't his fault," returned the officer who had advised the
sergeant to change the entry in his book. "His mother and father died
when he was three years old, and his father provided in his will that
Dardus should be his guardian, though from what the boy has told us, he
hasn't had any too happy a time of it, poor little shaver."

"Now don't go turning on the sympathy," growled the sergeant. "I don't
care whether the boy is guilty or not. All I know is that we have got to
make a case against him. It would never do to have it said that two
sharpers could rob a countryman in broad daylight in our precinct.
Haven't our reports to headquarters said, and haven't the papers said,
that our precinct has been free from all such crimes for more than six
months, and this is one of the rawest swindles that has been worked for
a long time. So you two get busy and fix up your case if you want to
stay in this precinct. If you don't, I'll tell the captain and the
inspector, and you will be sorry."

Without response, the two officers, who believed in Bob's innocence,
turned on their heels, and started toward the door of the police
station.

"Hey, you two! Go down to the court. I am going to send this boy right
down, and mind you remember what I told you," shouted the sergeant. And,
suiting his action to his words, he gave orders for Bob to be brought
from his cell and taken to the police court.

Just as Bob appeared in the outer room of the station house, Foster
entered.