Meanwhile the passengers rather sided with the boys.  Appearances go a great ways, and Frank did not look like a thief.

“I think you must be mistaken, madam,” said a gentleman sitting opposite.  “The lad does not look as if he would steal.”

“You can’t tell by looks,” said the lady, sourly.  “They’re deceitful; villains are generally well dressed.”

“Be they?” said Dick.  “You’d ought to see me with my Washington coat on.  You’d think I was the biggest villain ever you saw.”

“I’ve no doubt you are,” said the lady, scowling in the direction of our hero.

“Thank you, ma’am,” said Dick. “’Tisn’t often I get such fine compliments.”

“None of your impudence,” said the lady, wrathfully.  “I believe you’re the worst of the two.”

Meanwhile the car had been stopped.

“How long are we going to stop here?” demanded a passenger, impatiently.  “I’m in a hurry, if none of the rest of you are.”

“I want my pocket-book,” said the lady, defiantly.

“Well, ma’am, I haven’t got it, and I don’t see as it’s doing you any good detaining us all here.”

“Conductor, will you call a policeman to search that young scamp?” continued the aggrieved lady.  “You don’t expect I’m going to lose my money, and do nothing about it.”

“I’ll turn my pockets inside out if you want me to,” said Frank, proudly.  “There’s no need of a policeman.  The conductor, or any one else, may search me.”

“Well, youngster,” said the conductor, “if the lady agrees, I’ll search you.”

The lady signified her assent.

Frank accordingly turned his pockets inside out, but nothing was revealed except his own porte-monnaie and a penknife.

“Well, ma’am, are you satisfied?” asked the conductor.

“No, I aint,” said she, decidedly.

“You don’t think he’s got it still?”

“No, but he’s passed it over to his confederate, that boy there that’s so full of impudence.”

“That’s me,” said Dick, comically.

“He confesses it,” said the lady; “I want him searched.”

“All right,” said Dick, “I’m ready for the operation, only, as I’ve got valooable property about me, be careful not to drop any of my Erie Bonds.”

The conductor’s hand forthwith dove into Dick’s pocket, and drew out a rusty jack-knife, a battered cent, about fifty cents in change, and the capacious pocket-book which he had received from the swindler who was anxious to get back to his sick family in Boston.

“Is that yours, ma’am?” asked the conductor, holding up the wallet which excited some amazement, by its size, among the other passengers.

“It seems to me you carry a large pocket-book for a young man of your age,” said the conductor.

“That’s what I carry my cash and valooable papers in,” said Dick.

“I suppose that isn’t yours, ma’am,” said the conductor, turning to the lady.