“The dude!” he muttered. “Thinks he’s too good to talk with the likes o’ me. I’ll get even with him.” He waited an instant and then followed Rex at a distance. Presently something that he espied ahead caused him to scan the sidewalk and the street next it closely. Then he stepped out into the roadway and picked up a piece of coal that had dropped from a passing cart. He quickened his steps and nearly caught up with Rex just as the latter was passing a Chinese laundry. “Run for your life! Runaway team behind you!” he exclaimed suddenly, darting forward and calling out the words almost in Rex’s ear. At the same instant he flung the piece of coal he had picked up straight into the window of the Chinese laundry. There was a crash of glass and Rex, connecting the sound with the warning he had received, immediately took to his heels. “There he goes!” called out the red faced youth to the Chinaman who promptly appeared in the door of his shop. The Celestial’s almond eyes caught sight of Rex’s fleeing figure. It was enough. He dropped his iron and rushed after Rex, the conscienceless hoodlum joining in the chase. Rex, hearing no further sound to tell him that a dangerous runaway was close upon him, had just decided to slacken his pace and turn around to investigate, when he felt a hand laid on his shoulder. “Me got you,” crowed a wheezy voice in his ear. “Now for pleecy man.” Rex was horrified to find himself in the grasp of a Chinese laundryman. “Let go of me! What do you want?” he cried, struggling to get free. “You breakee glass. You go to jailee. Here pleecyman now.” True enough, among the crowd that had hastily collected, was a blue-coated officer. “Make him let me go,” exclaimed Rex, appealing to the representative of the law. “I didn’t do anything to him.” “Yes, he did,” called out a bystander, whose sympathies had been awakened for the much suffering heathen. “I saw him running for all he was worth. That’s pretty strong evidence, isn’t it?” The policeman appeared to think so, for he came up and caught Rex by the arm. CHAPTER VII REGINAND’S HUMILIATION Rex never felt so humiliated in his life. Here he was, surrounded by a crowd, captured by a policeman and accused by a miserable Chinaman of breaking a pane of glass. “It’s all a mistake, I tell you,” he cried, starting to wrest himself loose from the officer’s grasp, and then suddenly remaining passive as he reflected that this was undignified. “What did you run for then!” questioned the policeman. “Because he told me to—the fellow with the red face,” and Rex looked around in the throng to pick out the cause of his misfortune, but that individual had discreetly disappeared. “I don’t see him now,” he went on. “I guess you don’t,” put in the bystander who had already spoken. “Do you run every time anybody tells you to?” “He said there was a runaway team behind me. Then I heard the glass break. He must have thrown the stone himself.”