Mr. Farrant slid to the ground; evidently he had quite made up his mind how the affair would end. Mr. Broad took the watch from the counter, replaced it in his pocket, and waited for the boy to answer. Jim looked helplessly from one to the other of the two men. What could he say? How could he prove his innocence? No magistrate would believe his story, and, as likely as not, Curly would deny it, in order to save himself. A boy of Curly’s doubtful character was not likely to admit being in possession of a stolen sixpence. "It is no good," said he wearily; "I have told the truth. I am not a thief, Mr. Broad. I have never stolen a ha’penny in my life, either from you or from any one else." *CHAPTER XIII.* *AN AMATEUR DETECTIVE.* When Dick Boden set off after the two boys he had no definite object in view beyond keeping them in sight. As yet he did not quite grasp the meaning of what he had seen, though his suspicions were fully aroused. Curly and his companion displayed no particular hurry in getting clear of the neighbourhood. They strolled along quietly, and without attracting attention, for the street was deserted, and the only light was that thrown out by the public lamps. At the first corner they stopped a moment, and then, turning to the right, plunged into a narrow but busy street, much frequented by hawkers and all kinds of barrow-merchants. Quickening his steps, Dick followed, but they were already swallowed up by the throng of people. In the middle of the road a policeman stood on point duty, and Dick felt a strong desire to accost him; but what could he say? He had really nothing to go on except his own suspicion that in some way the two boys had been up to mischief, but the officer was not likely to interfere on that account. Putting this idea aside, Dick edged his way through the crowd, keeping a sharp lookout for his quarry. For some time he saw nothing of them, and began to fear they had dodged up one of the narrow courts, when he caught sight of them standing by a hand-cart piled with bananas. "All ripe! all ripe!" the owner was shouting at the top of his voice. "Here you are! Two for three-ha’pence. The finest fruit in Beauleigh.—Out o’ the way, matey, if you don’t want to buy; you’re keeping off good customers.—Sold again, and got the money! Come on; it’s like giving ’em away at the price!" "Let’s have four," said Bryant, "and don’t pick out all the little uns." "Here ye are, sonny," cried the hawker, taking the three coppers; "we’re in luck to-night. Sold again!" Bryant shared the bananas with his companion, and both fell to without delay. Evidently they were in high spirits, and enjoying themselves thoroughly, only stopping in their feast to nudge each other playfully. "It’s wonderful how flush of money they seem!" thought Dick.