"None of your nonsense," said the man angrily. "If you don't give up
that pocket-book, I'll call a policeman."

"I wish you would," said Dick. "They'll know most likely whether
it's Stewart or Astor that's lost the pocket-book, and I can get 'em
to return it."

The "dropper," whose object it was to recover the pocket-book, in
order to try the same game on a more satisfactory customer, was
irritated by Dick's refusal, and above all by the coolness he
displayed. He resolved to make one more attempt.

"Do you want to pass the night in the Tombs?" he asked.

"Thank you for your very obligin' proposal," said Dick; "but it aint
convenient to-day. Any other time, when you'd like to have me come
and stop with you, I'm agreeable; but my two youngest children is
down with the measles, and I expect I'll have to set up all night
to take care of 'em. Is the Tombs, in gineral, a pleasant place of
residence?"

Dick asked this question with an air of so much earnestness that
Frank could scarcely forbear laughing, though it is hardly necessary
to say that the dropper was by no means so inclined.

"You'll know sometime," he said, scowling.

"I'll make you a fair offer," said Dick. "If I get more'n fifty
dollars as a reward for my honesty, I'll divide with you. But I say,
aint it most time to go back to your sick family in Boston?"