CHAPTER XIII.

  IN WHICH PHIL HAS ANOTHER MISHAP, AND IS TAKEN TO A POLICE STATION.

  I had measured the form and estimated the muscle of Lynch before Ipaid my respects to him. He had threatened me when I met him on thepreceding day, and I came to the conclusion that, after passing throughone Indian campaign, I should not run away from such a puny fellow ashe was. As a boy I was strong, as a man he was weak, and having himunder me I had all the advantage. He struggled but a moment, and thenchanged his tone.

  "Don't make a row, Phil," said he, panting under the exhaustion of hisefforts.

  "You do know me, then," I replied, puffing not less than he.

  "I do. Let me up, Phil, and I will give you your money."

  "I don't think I shall take your word again," I added, with a candorbecoming the exciting occasion.

  "Let me up, Phil; there will be a crowd around us in a moment."

  "No matter; I won't let you up till you give me some security for yourgood behavior."

  "Better let him up as quick as possible," interposed Mr. Farringford."There are some men coming down the street."

  "I will hold on to him till he makes it safe for me to let him go," Ireplied.

  "Put your hand into my breast pocket, and take out my pocket-book. Itcontains over two hundred dollars," said Lynch.

  I followed his directions; but I was not satisfied in regard to thecontents of the pocket-book. It might be stuffed with brown paper foraught I knew, for I had read about some of the tricks of swindlers ingreat cities, in the newspapers, since I came to St. Louis.

  "Take it, Mr. Farringford, and see what is in it," I added, handing itto my father.

  "Let me up, Phil," pleaded Lynch.

  "Not yet, Mr. Lynchpinne."

  "If you are not satisfied, take the purse out of my side pocket. Itcontains fifty or sixty dollars in gold."

  I took the purse from his pocket, and it was heavy enough to be filledwith gold.

  "Now let me up, Phil. Don't get up a row here."

  I was not quite satisfied that we had a sufficient security for themoney I had lost, and I wished my father to examine the purse after hehad reported on the contents of the pocket-book.

  "What's the row?" demanded a couple of men coming out of the street bywhich we had reached our present position.

  "Let me up, Phil," said Lynch, in a low tone.

  "Let him up," said my father, in a tone so earnest that I could notdisregard it.

  Lynch sprang to his feet, and began to brush the dirt from his clothes.

  "What's the trouble?" repeated the two strangers.

  "No trouble," replied Lynch. "Come, we will go up to Forstellar's andsettle the matter."

  Without waiting to have the matter discussed, Lynch started at arapid pace, and my father and I followed him. The two strangers, whomanifested a strong interest in the proceedings, again demanded anexplanation; and as they received none, they came up the street afterus.

  "I'm not going to any gambling-house to settle the matter," said I,placing myself at the side of Lynch.

  "Where will you go?" demanded he, impatiently.

  "Come to my boarding-house."

  "No; I am not going to be led into any trap."

  "There is no trap about it. You will see no one but a woman."

  "I don't care about going to a private house."

  "And I don't care about going to a gambling-saloon."

  "You have all my money. Do you mean to keep the whole of it?"

  "If I should it would be serving you right; but I don't intend to takeany more than belongs to me. Will you go to the Planters' Hotel?" Iasked.

  "Why not go to Forstellar's? It is nearer, and I am in a hurry."

  "I won't go into such a place if I can help it."

  "You need not go up stairs--only into the bar-room."

  "No; I won't go where you can call in the aid of your friends."

  "Very well; I will go to the Planters' Hotel," he replied.

  As we were walking up the street we passed a policeman. I had cometo feel a peculiar interest in this class of men; and from the factthat I had met two of them in the same evening, I concluded that thetraditions stored up against them were false. It is not quite possiblefor a police officer to be everywhere at the same instant; and, asthere are a thousand places within his beat where he cannot be, to theone where he is, the chances are altogether against his being alwayswhere he happens to be wanted. I say that, having seen two policemen inthe same evening, I felt a renewed respect and regard for the order,and I naturally looked behind me as I passed the second one, in orderto obtain a good view of the man.

  I was not exactly pleased to notice that the two men who had followedus from Front Street stopped him, or rather induced him to join them;and the three followed us. I had no doubt the inquisitive strangersmade our little party the subject of a familiar conversation with thepoliceman, as they walked up the street. However, I did not feel muchconcerned about the circumstance; for, having been brought up beyondthe practicable reach of the law, I had no suspicion that I had doneanything wrong; and a new mishap was necessary in order to convince meof the error of taking the law into my own hands.

  I mentioned the fact to Lynch that a policeman was following us. He didnot take the matter so coolly as I did, and I am not sure he did notregret that he had taken the trouble to relieve me of my shot-bag. Iwas very well pleased with myself, and thought I had managed my caseremarkably well. I had full security for the money I had lost, andten minutes in the hotel would enable me to recover possession of myfunds. The next day was Saturday, and I intended to purchase some newclothes, so that I could go to Sunday school, to church, and to theprayer-meeting on the evening of the holy day. All these things werenew to me, and the anticipation of them was very pleasant. I meant,with my money, to put my wardrobe in a condition that would satisfyMrs. Greenough, who had promised to go with me to the Sunday school,and to all the meetings.

  PHIL GETS LYNCH AT A DISADVANTAGE. Page 147.]

  "Come, hurry up," said Lynch, while I was passing these pleasantreflections through my mind. "That policeman will make trouble for us."

  "I'm not afraid of him."

  "But I am," replied my companion, sharply. "If you get me into ascrape, it will go harder with you than with me."

  I did not see how that could be, but I was willing to meet the viewsof Lynch as long as no treachery was apparent in his conduct. If hewished to leave us, he could do so, for we had all his money. Wereached the Planters' Hotel, closely followed by the policeman and thetwo strangers. When we were about to enter the bar-room, the officerstepped in front of us, and stopped our further progress.

  "I learn that an assault was committed, under suspicious circumstances,near the levee," said the officer. "I should like to know about it."

  "I was robbed of my purse and pocket-book," replied Lynch, promptly.

  "Who did it?" demanded the officer, with energy.

  "This man and this boy," answered Lynch.

  "It is no such thing!" I protested, startled at the charge of myunprincipled companion.

  "But that young fellow was holding him down," interposed one of thestrangers. "He let him up just as Gray and I came out of Plum Street."

  "That's so," added Lynch, in the tone and manner of a martyr. "Theytook from me all my money, and were going to take my watch when theywere interrupted."

  "It is a false and groundless accusation," said Mr. Farringford,vehemently.

  "Ah, Farringford, are you in the scrape?" exclaimed Mr. Gray.

  "I am not in the scrape. There is no scrape," replied my father, verymuch agitated, for he probably realized better than I did the nature ofour proceedings.

  "I will conduct you all to the police office, and we will look into thematter," said the official, as he took me upon one arm, and my fatherupon the other.

  Lynch walked with the two gentlemen, one of whom, it appeared, wasconnected with the Metropolitan Police Department, which exp
lainedhis interest in the affair. I heard him telling his story to them,and I had no doubt they were greatly edified by it. We arrived at thestation, and were presented to a sergeant of police, who imposed uponhimself the task of investigating the affair. Mr. Gray stated that hehad found me holding Lynch upon the ground, while Farringford waslooking into a pocket-book under the street lamp.

  "What have you to say?" said the sergeant to Lynch.

  "I was going across the levee to a steamboat, when this man and boysprang upon me and knocked me down before I knew what they were about,"replied Lynch. "They took from me my pocket-book, which contains overtwo hundred dollars, and my purse, with fifty or sixty dollars in it,mostly in gold."

  "Do you know either of these parties?" asked the sergeant.

  "I know Farringford--everybody knows him," replied Lynch. "I don't knowthe boy."

  "I am sorry to see that Farringford has been reduced to anything ofthis sort," added Mr. Gray, glancing at the trembling inebriate.

  "Gentlemen, I am willing to wait till this transaction can beinvestigated for the vindication of my character," replied Farringford,straightening himself up as much as his tottering limbs would permit.

  "Give me your name, if you please," said the sergeant to Lynch.

  "My name is Lynch."

  "Full name, if you please."

  "Samuel Lynch."

  "_Alias_ Leonidas Lynchpinne," I added; "the name he called himself bywhen I first saw him."

  "Your business, if you please?" continued the official, as he wrotedown the name.

  "I have no regular business at the present time."

  "That's so!" exclaimed Farringford. "His business is very irregular. Inother words, he is a blackleg, at Forstellar's or on the river."

  "No matter what he is; you can't knock him down and rob him in thestreets of St. Louis," said the sergeant. "Have you either thepocket-book or the purse, Farringford?"

  "I have the pocket-book," replied my father, producing it.

  "Did you take this from Mr. Lynch?" asked the officer, as thepocket-book was handed to him.

  "I did not."

  "His son did," said Lynch, with a sneer.

  "What do you mean by his son?" demanded Mr. Gray, with a smile.

  "He told me the boy was his son."

  "When did he tell you so?" asked the sergeant, quietly.

  "After he had knocked me down," replied Lynch, wincing under thequestion, which was evidently put for a purpose.

  "Then you talked over their relationship while the boy held you on theground?" suggested Mr. Gray.

  "No; Farringford only called the boy his son."

  "What did he say to him?"

  "He called him his son, and told him to hold me fast."

  "Before he took your pocket-book from you?"

  "No; afterwards, while he was looking to see what was in it."

  "This is not the way robberies are usually committed," added thesergeant. "I never heard of one robber holding a man down while theother looked to see what the pocket-book contained."

  "Did Farringford call you his son?" asked Mr. Gray, turning to me.

  "Yes, sir, he did; but not while I held Lynch down. It was while wewere in Plum Street," I replied.

  "What trick were you engaged in?" demanded Mr. Gray, rather sternly."Why did he call you his son?"

  "I am his son. He is my father," I answered.

  Farringford looked at me with an expression of disapproval, as if toreproach me for the falsehood he believed I had uttered.