Such a sight as this is by no means uncommon in a large city, and of course Paul had witnessed it many times. But for one circumstance, he would have given the young man a passing glance, and gone on. But he observed that the young man was followed. The person following was also a young man, rather flashily attired, and, as Paul thought, of suspicious appearance. It seemed to him clear that he had designs upon the first young man, whose condition was likely to make him an easy prey to an unscrupulous acquaintance.

“Where have I seen that man before?” thought Paul.

He was puzzled for a moment, and then he remembered that he had strayed one day into a court room, and seen him as a prisoner at the bar, charged with picking a pocket.

“That’s what he’s after now,” thought Paul. “I will prevent him if I can.”

The telegraph boy moderated his pace, so as not to attract the attention of the man in the rear, but kept a close watch over him.

Finally the pickpocket came to a sudden resolution, and quickening his pace came up with the man he was following.

“Excuse me, my friend,” he said, smoothly, “but I see you are in need of assistance. Won’t you take my arm? I’ll take you home, if you wish.”

“You’re very good,” said the stranger. “I’ve been drinking more than is good for me, I’m afraid.”

“We all do that sometimes,” said his new acquaintance. “I’ve been there myself. Where are you staying?”

“At the Albemarle Hotel. Am I going the right way? I’ve got turned round, I think.”

“Yes, you are on the right track. I live close by your hotel myself, so I can go along with you just as well as not.”

“Thanks; you are really very kind.”

“O, don’t mention it.”

The other made no objection to the pickpocket passing his arm through his, and the two walked on together.

“He means to rob him,” thought Paul. “What can I do to prevent it?”

He didn’t quite like to make an accusation, though he remembered the thief’s face perfectly, till he had some ground for warning the intended victim. It might be that the pickpocket was merely taking the part of the good Samaritan, though it was by no means probable.

The two men became sociable, and Paul was near enough to hear fragments of the conversation. He gathered that the stranger was from St. Louis—that he was visiting New York on a business errand, representing a firm, of which his father was the head.

The pickpocket, who had been waiting only till he could gain the stranger’s confidence, now felt that it was time to be carrying out his plans. With dexterous fingers he managed to explore the pocket of his companion, and Paul caught sight, quick as he was, of his appropriation of his victim’s wallet.

“I shall have to leave you here,” said he, abruptly, having no further motive for continuing the companionship. “Good night!”

“Good night!” said the stranger. “Sorry to lose your company!”

Paul was excited, as he might well be, for he saw that on him alone depended the frustration of the thief’s plans.

“Stop thief!” he exclaimed, in a loud voice.

The thief looked startled, and turning into Thirty Seventh Street ran towards Fifth Avenue.

Paul followed in close pursuit.

“Drop that wallet, or it will be worse for you!” exclaimed the undaunted boy.

Had the night been dark, the thief would have taken the chances, and retained his booty. But he was sure to attract attention, and might any minute run into the arms of a policeman. The risk was too great.

“There, curse you!” he muttered, throwing down the wallet. “Now stop following me!”

Paul picked up the pocketbook, and ceased the pursuit. He had accomplished all he intended, and was willing to let the thief go free, now that he had restored his plunder.

He retraced his steps to Sixth Avenue, where he found the stranger waiting for him.

“Here is your pocketbook,” he said. “You have had a narrow escape.”

“By Jove! I should think I had,” answered the young man. “How much money do you think there is in that wallet?”

“Is it a large sum?” asked Paul, his curiosity aroused.

“Fifteen hundred dollars—perhaps a little more. You’re a brave boy. But for you I should have lost it.”

“I am very glad to have been of such service,” said Paul. “If the thief only knew what a purse he had lost he would feel like murdering me.”

“What made you suspect him? You must have sharp eyes.”

“I believe I have,” answered Paul, “but I was watching him closely as I walked behind. I knew him to be a pickpocket.”

“How was that?” asked the young man.

“I once saw him in the court room at the Tombs, being tried for theft. I have not seen him since, but I recognized him at once. I saw him join you, and I suspected his motive at once.”

“You saw my condition?”

“Yes, I saw that you were not yourself.”

“I had been making a fool of myself by drinking too much. I hope you don’t drink?”

“No, sir, never.”

“You are wise. Will you walk with me to my hotel?”

“Yes, sir, where are you staying?”

“At the Albemarle. Do you know where it is?”

“O, yes,” answered Paul, smiling. He felt that he would hardly have been fit for a telegraph boy if he had not known the location of a hotel so well known.

“I have been spending the evening with a few friends who live in an apartment house near the park. The punch was remarkably good, and I drank more than was good for me. I suppose you wonder why I didn’t ride home, instead of walking?”

“It would have been safer, at any rate.”

“I had a headache and thought I might walk it off. At any rate, I should feel better for being in the open air. But I found some difficulty in steering straight, as I dare say you noticed.”

“Yes, sir, I observed it.”

“Then this fellow came along. He offered to accompany me home, and I never suspected that he was a thief. I am afraid you will think me rather green.”

“O, no; the man’s appearance might easily deceive you.”

“It did not deceive you.”

“No, for I had seen him before. But will you pardon me for saying that you were imprudent in carrying around so large a sum of money at this late hour?”

“You are quite right. I was a fool, and I am willing to admit it.”

It was not long before Paul and his new friend reached the hotel, which is in the block above the Fifth Avenue.

“Come upstairs with me,” said the young man.

“If you wish it,” answered Paul.

“I do; I have some business with you, but I won’t keep you long.”

Paul followed his new acquaintance into a handsomely furnished chamber on the third floor. He involuntarily thought of the poor tenement house room in which he and old Jerry made their home, and he wondered whether it would ever be his fortune to be as well lodged as the traveler from Missouri.

“Why not?” asked Paul, hopefully.

“Sit down,” said the stranger, pointing to a chair. “I won’t keep you long.”