It is not natural for a boy of Walter's age to distrust those with whom he becomes acquainted even slightly. This lesson unfortunately is learned later in life. But the words of his fellow-traveller inspired him with conviction. He could think of no other way of accounting for his loss.

He rose from his seat.

"Where are you going?" asked the old gentleman.

"I am going to look for the thief."

"Do you expect to find him?"

"He said he was going into the smoking-car."

"My young friend, I strongly suspect that this was only to blind you. The cars have stopped at two stations since he left his seat, and if he took your money he has doubtless effected his escape."

Walter was rather taken aback by this consideration. It seemed reasonable enough, and, if true, he didn't see how he was going to get back his money.

"I dare say you are right," he said; "but I will go into the smoking-car and see."

"Come back again, and let me know whether you find him."

"Yes, sir."

Walter went through two cars, looking about him on either side, thinking it possible that the thief might have taken his seat in one of them. There was very little chance of this, however. Next he passed into the smoking-car, where, to his joy no less than his surprise, he found the man of whom he was in search playing cards with three other passengers.

He looked up carelessly as Walter approached, but did not betray the slightest confusion or sign of guilt. To let the reader into a secret, he had actually taken Walter's pocket-book, but was too cunning to keep it about him. He had taken out the money, and thrown the porte-monnaie itself from the car platform, taking an opportunity when he thought himself unobserved. As the money consisted of bills, which could not be identified as Walter's, he felt that he was in no danger of detection. He thought that he could afford to be indifferent.

"Did you get tired of waiting?" he asked, addressing our hero.

"That's pretty cool if he took the money," thought Walter.

"May I speak to you a moment?" asked Walter.

"Certainly."

"I mean alone."

"If you'll wait till I have finished the game," said the pickpocket, assuming a look of surprise. "Something private, eh?"

"Yes," said Walter, gravely.

He stood by impatiently while the game went on. He was anxious to find out as soon as possible what had become of his money, and what was the chance of recovering it.

At length the game was finished, and a new one was about to be commenced, when Walter tapped his late companion on the shoulder.

"Oh, you wanted to speak to me, did you?" he said indifferently. "Can't you wait till we have finished this game?"

"No," said Walter, resolutely, "I can't wait. It is a matter of great importance."

"Then, gentlemen, I must beg to be excused for five minutes," said the pickpocket, shrugging his shoulders, as if to express good-natured annoyance. "Now, my young friend, I am at your service."

Walter proceeded to the other end of the car, which chanced to be unoccupied. Now that the moment had come, he hardly knew how to introduce the subject. Suppose that the person he addressed were innocent, it would be rather an awkward matter to charge him with the theft.

"Did you see anything of my pocket-book?" he said, at length.

"Your pocket-book?" returned the pickpocket, arching his brows. "Why, have you lost it?"

"Yes."

"When did you discover its loss?"

"Shortly after you left me," said Walter, significantly.

"Indeed! was there much money in it?"

"Over thirty dollars."

"That is quite a loss. I hope you have some more with you."

"No, it is all I have."

"I'm very sorry indeed. I did not see it. Have you searched on the floor?"

"Yes; but it isn't there."

"That's awkward. Was your ticket in the pocket-book?"

"No, I had that in my vest-pocket."

"That's fortunate. On my honor, I'm sorry for you. I haven't much money with me, but I'll lend you a dollar or two with the greatest of pleasure."

This offer quite bewildered Walter. He felt confident that the other had stolen his money, and now here he was offering to lend him some of it. He did not care to make such a compromise, or to be bought off so cheap; so, though quite penniless, he determined to reject the offer.

"I won't borrow," he said, coldly. "I was hoping you had seen my money."

"Sorry I didn't. Better let me lend you some."

"I would rather not borrow."

Walter could not for the life of him add "Thank you," feeling no gratitude to the man who he felt well assured had robbed him.

The pickpocket turned and went back to his game, and Walter slowly left the car. He had intended to ask him point-blank whether he had taken the money, but couldn't summon the necessary courage. He went back to his old seat.

"Well," said the old gentleman who sat behind him, "I suppose you did not find your man?"

"Yes, I did."

"You didn't get your money?" he added, in surprise.

"No, he said he had not seen it."

"Did you tax him with taking it?"

"No, I hardly ventured to do that."

"Did he show any confusion?"

"No, sir, he was perfectly cool. Still, I think he took it. He offered to lend me a dollar or two."

"That was cool, certainly."

"What would you advise me to do?" asked Walter.

"I hardly know what to advise," said the other, thoughtfully.

"I don't want him to make off with my money."

"Of course not. That would be far from agreeable."

"If he could only be searched, I might find the pocket-book on him."

"In order to do that, he must be charged with the robbery."

"That is true. It will be rather awkward for a boy like me to do that."

"I'll tell you what you had better do, my young friend. Speak to the conductor."

"I think I will," said Walter.

Just at that moment the conductor entered the car. As he came up the aisle Walter stopped him, and explained his loss, and the suspicions he had formed.

"You say the man is in the smoking-car?" said the conductor, who had listened attentively.

"Yes."

"Could you point him out?"

"Yes."

"I am glad of it. I have received warning by telegraph that one of the New York swell-mob is on the train, probably intent on mischief, but no description came with it, and I had no clue to the person. I have no doubt that the man you speak of is the party. If so, he is familiarly known as 'Slippery Dick.'"

"Do you think you can get back my money?" asked Walter, anxiously.

"I think there is a chance of it. Come with me and point out your man."

Walter gladly accompanied the conductor to the smoking-car. His old acquaintance was busily engaged as before in a game, and laughing heartily at some favorable turn.

"There he is," said Walter, indicating him with his finger.

The conductor walked up to him, and tapped him on the shoulder.

"What's wanted?" he asked, looking up. "You've looked at my ticket."

"I wish to speak to you a moment."

He rose without making any opposition, and walked to the other end of the car.

"Well," he said, and there was a slight nervousness in his tone, "what's the matter? Wasn't my ticket all right?"

"No trouble about that. The thing is, will you restore this boy's pocket-book?"

"Sir," said the pickpocket, blustering, "do you mean to insult me? What have I to do with his pocket-book?"

"You sat beside him, and he missed it directly after you left him."

"What is that to me? You may search me if you like. You will find only one pocket-book upon me, and that is my own."

"I am aware of that," said the conductor, coolly. "I saw you take the money out and throw it from the car platform."

The pickpocket turned pale.

"You are mistaken in the person," he said.

"No, I am not. I advise you to restore the money forthwith."

Without a word the thief, finding himself cornered, took from his pocket a roll of bills, which he handed to Walter.

"Is that right?" asked the conductor.

"Yes," said our hero, after counting his money.

"So far, so good. And now, Slippery Dick," he continued, turning to the thief, "I advise you to leave the cars at the next station, or I will have you arrested. Take your choice."

The detected rogue was not long in making his choice. Already the cars had slackened their speed, and a short distance ahead appeared a small station. The place seemed to be one of very little importance. One man, however, appeared to have business there. Walter saw his quondam acquaintance jump on the platform, and congratulated himself that his only loss was a porte-monnaie whose value did not exceed one dollar.

I will only add that the conductor on seeing the pocket-book thrown away had thought nothing of it, supposing it to be an old one, but as soon as he heard of the robbery suspected at once the thief and his motive.