Again, he could hardly expect Mr. Broad to continue to employ him. Of course he would be dismissed, and no one would care to engage a boy who had lost his situation under such suspicious circumstances. It seemed to him just then that he had recklessly spoiled his career before it had fairly begun. His thoughts were very, very bitter; but he had not altogether lost his moral courage, and readily confessed that he was only reaping what he had sown. This, however, was but poor consolation, and it was with a heavy heart that he at last went into the house. "Dick has brought good news, mother," he cried, trying to speak cheerfully: "the police have caught Peters with the money on him. I am going to bed now. We shall have to be up early in the morning." And he kissed her good-night. *CHAPTER XV.* *"WHEN THIEVES FALL OUT."* Fortunately for Jim’s peace of mind the next day was not a particularly busy one at the police court. He and Dick sat with Mr. Broad and the tobacconist in the space reserved for witnesses, while in the public portion of the building only a few people besides his mother and Mrs. Boden had assembled. Presently a small side-door was opened, and the two youthful prisoners took their places in the dock. Curly was still smiling and cheerful, but his companion in misfortune looked even more miserable than on the preceding night. When the charge had been read over, Mr. Broad proceeded to make his statement, describing how he had marked the coins and placed them in the till, and how, on returning to the shop, he had found they were gone. Then Jim went into the witness-box, feeling horribly uncomfortable. He thought the two magistrates regarded him contemptuously, and as if they thought his proper place was in the dock with the prisoners. However, he managed to give a connected account of what had passed, and was stepping down again when one of the magistrates observed, "If this witness speaks the truth, it is clear that the prisoner Peters could not have been in the shop." "I wasn’t, sir," spoke up Curly. "I never put my foot inside it." "We suggest that he was acting as a blind," said the inspector—"that he engaged the shop-boy’s attention while the other prisoner stole the money. I think the next witness will make that clear." "Very well," said the magistrate; "let him he called." "Richard Boden!" Dick stepped into the box, took the oath, and began his story without the least hesitation. As he proceeded Curly’s confident smile began to fade: the witness was not leaving him a single loophole for escape. The evidence was so clear and simple and yet so conclusive that, as one constable remarked in a whisper, the prisoners had not "the ghost of a chance." "Uncommon smart boy that," he added graciously. "Ought to join the force when he’s old enough."