“And some like to take up a double allowance of room,” thought Frank; but he did not say so.  He saw that the woman had a bad temper, and thought it wisest to say nothing.

Frank had never ridden up the city as far as this, and it was with much interest that he looked out of the car windows at the stores on either side.  Third Avenue is a broad street, but in the character of its houses and stores it is quite inferior to Broadway, though better than some of the avenues further east.  Fifth Avenue, as most of my readers already know, is the finest street in the city, being lined with splendid private residences, occupied by the wealthier classes.  Many of the cross streets also boast houses which may be considered palaces, so elegant are they externally and internally.  Frank caught glimpses of some of these as he was carried towards the Park.

After the first conversation, already mentioned, with the lady at his side, he supposed he should have nothing further to do with her.  But in this he was mistaken.  While he was busy looking out of the car window, she plunged her hand into her pocket in search of her purse, which she was unable to find.  Instantly she jumped to the conclusion that it had been stolen, and her suspicions fastened upon Frank, with whom she was already provoked for “crowding her,” as she termed it.

“Conductor!” she exclaimed in a sharp voice.

“What’s wanted, ma’am?” returned that functionary.

“I want you to come here right off.”

“What’s the matter?”

“My purse has been stolen.  There was four dollars and eighty cents in it.  I know, because I counted it when I paid my fare.”

“Who stole it?”

“That boy,” she said pointing to Frank, who listened to the charge in the most intense astonishment.  “He crowded in here on purpose to rob me, and I want you to search him right off.”

“That’s a lie!” exclaimed Dick, indignantly.

“Oh, you’re in league with him, I dare say,” said the woman spitefully.  “You’re as bad as he is, I’ll be bound.”

“You’re a nice female, you be!” said Dick, ironically.

“Don’t you dare to call me a female, sir,” said the lady, furiously.

“Why, you aint a man in disguise, be you?” said Dick.

“You are very much mistaken, madam,” said Frank, quietly.  “The conductor may search me, if you desire it.”

A charge of theft, made in a crowded car, of course made quite a sensation.  Cautious passengers instinctively put their hands on their pockets, to make sure that they, too, had not been robbed.  As for Frank, his face flushed, and he felt very indignant that he should even be suspected of so mean a crime.  He had been carefully brought up, and been taught to regard stealing as low and wicked.

Dick, on the contrary, thought it a capital joke that such a charge should have been made against his companion.  Though he had brought himself up, and known plenty of boys and men, too, who would steal, he had never done so himself.  He thought it mean.  But he could not be expected to regard it as Frank did.  He had been too familiar with it in others to look upon it with horror.