The newsboy knew the voice at once. There was no need for him to turn his head. He felt that the hand of fate, in the person of the tall, black-bearded man, had overtaken him. But it was not the first time that the hand of vengeance or justice had fallen upon him, and no one knew better than Skinny that such a grasp is not always a sure one. Without even turning his head or uttering a single sound the boy simply slid out of his jacket, twisted himself free and darted around the nearest corner, leaving his captor standing on the sidewalk with the ragged jacket in his hand and on his face a look of rage that it was well for Skinny’s peace of mind that he did not see.
“I’ll catch him yet, the young vagabond, and find out what he’s been doing all this time!” muttered the tall man between his teeth as he looked down at the shabby garment which remained in his hand as evidence of the brief captivity and sudden, eel-like escape of Skinny the Swiper. He was about to throw the jacket in the gutter, for it would look odd to be seen carrying it through the crowded streets, when his eye fell upon the corner of an envelope protruding from an inside pocket, and thinking that it might contain a clue to the boy’s haunts in the city, he took it out and examined it. It was simply a letter written two days before, but it was the signature of Bruce Decker which arrested the attention of the man who read it and brought a sudden gleam into his eyes.
When Bruce returned to New York after his short vacation in the country, he received such a hearty welcome from every member of the company, that he realized the fact that it is a good thing for one to go away now and then if only to indicate the value of one’s services.
He had not only enjoyed himself during his absence and gained new health and strength from the clear lake air but he had also proved to the chief and his subordinates that he was a decidedly useful boy. The many little duties which he performed about the quarters had been done so quietly and unostentatiously as well as effectively that it was not until he was out of the city that the others realized how much trouble he saved them. As it was, the men had to burden their minds with a number of small details which had previously been left entirely in Bruce’s hands, and every time that one of them was called upon to feed the horses or perform some small duty for the chief he thought of Bruce and wondered how much longer that boy was going to stay away.