It wasn't a very pretty place
to come to in those days, what with the robbers and other bad people
who infested it. And now let us go and find a seat, child, and I'll
show you one or two little pictures I picked up in the shop this
morning; and you can send them in your next letter, to Joel and David,
if you like."
Old Mr. King took out his pocket-book, and had just opened it, when a
man darted out from the thick shrubbery behind him, cast a long,
searching glance around, and quick as lightning, threw himself against
the stately old gentleman, and seized the pocket-book.
It was then that Phronsie screamed long and loud.
"What ho!" exclaimed Mr. King, starting around to do battle; but the
man was just disappearing around the clump of shrubbery.
"Which way?" Tom Selwyn dashed up. It didn't seem as if Phronsie's cry
had died on her lips.
Old Mr. King pointed without a word. And Polly and Jasper were close at
hand. Polly flew to Phronsie, who was clinging to Grandpapa's hand, and
wailing bitterly. "What is it? Oh! what is it?" cried Polly.
"My pocket-book," said Grandpapa; "some fellow has seized it, and
frightened this poor child almost to death." He seemed to care a great
deal more about that than any loss of the money.
"Which way?" cried Jasper, in his turn, and was off like a shot on
getting his answer.
Tom saw the fellow slink with the manner of one who knew the ins and
outs of the place well,--now gliding, and ducking low in the sparser
growth, now making a bold run around some exposed curve, now dashing
into a dense part of the wood.
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