Events followed with surprising celerity. The car halted with a jerk, one of the "moll-buzzers"--the "stall," by the way--opened the near platform gate, jumped into the roadway, and disappeared as completely as if the earth had swallowed him. The other seemed to vanish into thin air and simultaneously a police officer appeared at both front and rear doors. Instinctively my eyes sought Sal. She was in the act of getting out from among the others, and by a single swift movement stood in front of me. Then she made a scarcely audible sound with her lips--something like the ghost of a kiss--and as her right hand passed to the left, apparently for the purpose of opening a hand-bag which was hanging from her left wrist, I felt something drop into the folds of a newspaper which I was carrying in an upright fashion between my hands, its lower edges resting on my knee. The woman had recognized me as of the Under World, had given me the thief's call for help and caution, and had planted her "swag" on me without further parley. Indeed, there wasn't time for talk, only time for action. The next instant, the excited little woman who had been "touched," burst into the car, accompanied by a third policeman. "Now, madam," said the detective, brusquely, "is there anybody here whom you think lifted your purse? If so, pick the person out and we will go to the station house." The woman hesitated, glancing from face to face. "This is infamous," said Sal, in a tone of well-bred anger to a lady who was standing by her side. "We are all of us, so it seems, practically accused of theft." And she moved toward the front door. "You will excuse me, lady," said the officer on guard, "but you will please stop in the car until this party has said her say out." Sal flushed indignantly, and drew herself up with magnificent haughtiness. Then she pulled out her cardcase. "If you don't know me, my good man," she remarked, quietly, "I suppose you have heard of my husband?" And she passed him a pasteboard. The detective simply wilted as he glanced at the card. "I beg your pardon, madam," he said. "No offense meant; line of duty, you know, madam." And, mumbling more apologies, he helped her off the car and made way for her through the crowd that had gathered. Later I learned that Sal had "sized up" the detective as unknown to her. She had the audacity to make it appear--on her cards--that she was the wife of a certain member of the judiciary who was the owner of an international reputation.