"I remember now feeling something at my pocket when I put my
hand up to my collar. That bug business was only a ruse! Well, I
_am_ a fool! And after all Mr. Joyce and Doc Linyard told me, too!"
The thought of how he had been taken in made Richard fairly sick, and
the tears of vexation sprang into his eyes as he stood deliberating
upon what to do next.
Just then a burly policeman came lounging along. Richard touched him
on the arm.
"I have been robbed," he said.
"Robbed? Where? When?" exclaimed the officer, all attention.
Richard told him all he knew of his case.
"I think I know the chap," said the officer. "But I can do nothing
now. He is likely a mile away by this time."
"Will you watch out for him?" asked Richard.
"I don't care so much for the money as I do for the letters."
"Better come over to the station and make a complaint."
"Is it far? I've got an engagement at three o'clock that I don't want
to miss."
"Won't take ten minutes. Come on."
At the station Richard was required to leave his full name and address,
describe what had been stolen, and give a full description of the
person he suspected was the thief.
"I can't give you much hopes of recovery," said the officer in charge.
"Dollar bills are very much alike, and if the thief finds that he
cannot put the letters to account he will probably destroy them.
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