The Camp Fire Girls on the Farm | Page 9

said Farmer Weeks, reaching quickly
for the wallet.
But Mike was too quick for him, and in a moment he had opened the
wallet, and could see that it was empty, except for a few torn pieces of
paper, evidently put in it to stuff it out, and deceive people into
thinking that it contained a wad of bills.
"What sort of game are yez tryin' to put up on us here?" demanded the
policeman, angrily. "Here, take yer book--"
"She's as much guilty of theft as if there had been a hundred dollars in
it," said Farmer Weeks, recovering from his dismay at the exposure of
the trick. "You arrest her or I'll--"
"What will yez do, ye spalpeen?" said the policeman. "If ye get gay wid
me I'll run yez in--and don't be afther forgettin' that, either!"
As he spoke he turned, angrily, to observe a small boy who was
tugging at his sleeve.
"Say, mister, say," begged the boy, "listen here a minute, will yer? I
seen the old guy slip his purse into her pocket. She never took it."
Tom's eyes, as he heard, lighted up.
"By Gad, Mike, that's what he did!" he exclaimed. "Did you hear how
ready he was to tell just which pocket she had it in? How'd he have
known that--unless he put it there, eh?"

"It's a lie!" stormed Farmer Weeks. "Here, are you going to lock that
girl up as a thief or not?"
"Indade and I'm not," said the officer, warmly. "Drop her wrist--quick!"
He stepped forward as he spoke, and Weeks, seeing by the gleam in the
Irishman's eye that he had gone too far, quickly released Bessie. As she
moved away from him he stood still, red-eyed and trembling with rage.
"An' what's more, you old scalawag," said the policeman, "I'm going to
run you in. Maybe you never heard tell of perjury, but it's worse than
pickin' pockets, let me tell you."
His heavy hand dropped to Weeks' shoulder, but he was too slow. With
a yell of fright the old farmer, displaying an agility with which no one
would have been ready to credit him, turned and dove headlong
through the crowd.
The policeman started to give chase, but Tom Norris restrained him. He
was laughing heartily.
"What's the use? Let him be, Mike," he said. "My, but it was as good as
a play to see you handle him. Gosh! Watch the old beggar run, will
you?"
Indeed, Weeks was running as fast as he could, and, even as they
watched him, he disappeared inside the station.
"That's a good riddance. Maybe he'll go home and stay there," said the
conductor. "He won't try his dirty tricks on you again," he added,
turning to Bessie. "If he does, you'll have a friend in Mike, here."
"True for you, Tom Norris!" said the policeman. "I'm glad ye turned up,
boy. Ye saved me from makin' a fool of meself, I'm thinkin'. The old
omadhoun! To think he'd put up a job like that on a slip of a girl, and
him ould enough to be her father--or her grandfather!"
"Well, I've helped you out again, haven't I?" said Tom Norris. "Are you

living here in the city now? Suppose you tell me why old Weeks is so
mean to you, now that we've the time."
"I will, and gladly," said Bessie. "But I haven't so very much time. Can
you walk with me as I go home?"
So, with Tom Norris to look after her, Bessie began her trip back to the
Mercer house, and, on the way, she told him the story of her flight from
Hedgeville, and the adventures that had happened since its beginning.
"I suppose I was foolish to go after Jake Hoover that way," she
concluded, "but I thought I might be able to help. I didn't like to see
him following Mr. Jamieson that way, when he was trying to be so nice
to us."
"Maybe you were foolish," said Tom. "But don't let it worry you too
much. You meant well, and I guess there's lots of us are foolish without
having as good an excuse as that."
"Oh, there's Mr. Jamieson now!" cried Bessie, suddenly spying the
young lawyer on the other side of the street. "I think I'd better tell him
what's happened, don't you, Mr. Norris?"
"I do indeed. Stay here, I'll run over. The young fellow with the brown
suit, is it?"
Bessie nodded, and Tom Norris ran across the street and was back in a
moment with Jamieson, who was mightily surprised to see Bessie,
whom he had left only a short time before at the Mercer house. He
frowned very thoughtfully as he heard her story.
"I'm not going to scold you for