Walter again. With a dexterity acquired by long practice in his peculiar profession, he turned out one pocket after another, transferring the cash and other articles to his own clothing. Then, as Walter gave a long, deep sigh, as if about to awaken, he took to his heels once more. He was in no condition to climb the wharf fence as Walter had done, but helped himself over by the use of several boxes; and was soon a long distance away.
When Walter came to his senses and opened his eyes, the glare from a bull's-eye lantern struck him, and he saw a wharf watchman eyeing him curiously.
"What are you doing here, young fellow?" were the watchman's words.
"I—I—where is he?" questioned the youth, weakly.
"He? Who?"
"The thief—the man who struck me down?"
"I haven't seen anybody but you around here."
"A thief who has my uncle's watch came in here, and I followed him, and he struck me down with a club. When—how long is it since you found me here?"
"Several minutes ago. I thought you were
